4. Cole

FOUR

Cole

11:11 am

I can't believe my eyes. For the third time in a week, there he is—Buster Hankel, standing right in front of me at the pool gate. Why is life insisting on trying to break me lately?

Seeing him, along with this sweltering heat, makes me want to crawl into a cool, dark cave and sleep for a month until this heat lets up and my luck turns around.

"Mommy, look! Watch Pinky jump in!" Maddie squeals as she throws her float in the pool, oblivious to the tension in the air. She clutches her own mini inflatable flamingo, a gift from her grandmother.

I force a smile. "I see, sweetie. Why don't you go put your things down on that chair over there?"

As Maddie scampers off, I turn to watch Buster walk away. His perfect physique is on full display in his short shorts and sweaty gray t-shirt. His back muscles fill it out perfectly, highlighting his tapered waist.

I hate that I notice.

Why does it feel like I'm fending off bad omens everywhere I turn? And of all the places in Birmingham? As big as this city is, why now do we keep running into each other?

I turn back to the pool and give Maddie the okay to dive in. Then I take off my cover-up and grab a lounge chair under an umbrella.

Maddie splashes in the shallow end, her giggles a stark contrast to the turmoil in my head. Almost five years ago now, I told Buster I wasn't looking for anything serious. So why does seeing him now, after all this time, still make my heart race?

Maddie's giggles echo across the pool area. It's a welcome distraction from my thoughts about Buster and the general cursing of my bad luck lately.

My phone buzzes in my bag. I fish it out, grateful for the interruption.

It's a text from Liesle.

Hey, sister from the same mister! Anna's been begging for a play day with Maddie. Any chance we could steal her for the day and night?

I smile, knowing how much Maddie adores her cousin.

Hey! That sounds great. We're at the pool now. Could drop her off after lunch?

Perfect! We'll be ready. Anna's gonna flip!

Maddie will, too. See you in a couple hours!

I put my phone away and call out to Maddie. "Hey, sweetie! Guess what? Aunt Liesle just invited you for a sleepover with Anna!"

Maddie's eyes light up. She splashes excitedly, nearly dropping her flamingo. "Really? Can we go now?"

I laugh. "After lunch, okay? We've got some time to swim first."

"Yay!" She dives back into the water, her excitement palpable.

Watching her play, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. A night to myself is just what I need after this crazy week. Maybe I'll finally have time to properly process everything that's happened—the accident at the theme park, the health inspection drama, and now Buster's constant reappearance in my life.

I push those thoughts aside, for now, focusing on Maddie's joy. We have a perfect summer morning and final weekend before she starts preschool. I intend to make the most of it.

12:38 pm

I buckle Maddie into her car seat. Her little body is practically vibrating with excitement.

"You ready for your sleepover, sweetie?"

"Yes! Can we go now? Can we go fast?"

I chuckle, sliding into the driver's seat. "We'll go as fast as the speed limit allows, okay?"

As we pull out of the parking lot, the midday sun beats down on Birmingham. The city shimmers in the August heat, a mirage of concrete and glass. Traffic moves sluggishly as if the heat has melted the asphalt and glued tires to the road.

We pass Vulcan Park, the tall iron statue against the cloudless sky. Maddie presses her face against the window, pointing at the colossus.

"Look, Mommy! It's the big man!"

"That's right, honey. The Vulcan's watching over us."

I glance up at the towering figure, the largest cast iron statue in the world. The Vulcan has always been a symbol of Birmingham's industrial roots, a reminder of the city's history in the iron and steel industry. To most, it's just a statue, but to me, it holds a deeper significance.

Growing up, my dad used to take me to Vulcan Park. He'd tell me stories about how the statue represented the Roman god of fire and forge, symbolizing Birmingham's strength and resilience. I remember feeling so small next to it yet somehow inspired to be strong and unyielding, just like the Vulcan.

Now, as Maddie points out the statue, I can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with determination. Life hasn't been easy, especially as a single mom running a cafe. But every time I see the Vulcan, I'm reminded of those stories and the strength they instilled in me.

We wind through the streets, past restaurants with outdoor patios where brave souls attempt to eat despite the sweltering temperature. The sidewalks are mostly empty, save for the occasional jogger or dog walker seeking shade under awnings or trees.

As we approach Five Points South, the fountain in the center of the intersection sprays a fine mist into the air. It's a small oasis in the urban heat island.

"Can we play in the fountain, Mommy, please?" Maddie asks, dragging out the eeeeeee in please, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Maybe when it's not so hot, sweetie. Even with the water, we would fry today. Plus, you're going to hang out with Anna. Aren't you excited to do that?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! I can't wait to see Anna. We will build a fort, have a tea party, and sleep on a pallet on the floor."

I love they have this sweet relationship and can grow up together. Liesle and I were always so close. Anna is like having a big sister for her.

Our parents were older when they had us. By the time I came along, my mom was forty-one. They worked hard for Liesle. I was a surprise—and, of course, the prize child, as I would say.

Both of our parents passed away at a relatively young age, leaving only the two of us since we were in our twenties.

We continue our journey, passing by the lush green of Railroad Park. Even in the midday heat, I spot a few determined souls on the walking trails. It would be an excellent way to clear my head today if it wasn't so hot.

Maddie's excitement grows as we near Liesle's neighborhood. She starts singing a made-up song about her upcoming adventures with Anna.

I follow Liesle into her kitchen, the sound of little feet thundering up the stairs fading as Maddie and Anna disappear to play.

"You look like you could use a drink," Liesle says, opening the fridge. "I've got sweet tea, lemonade, or I can make you an iced coffee?"

"Just water's fine, thanks. With lots of ice."

She nods, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice and water. We move to the living room, settling onto her plush couch. A bowl of pistachios sits on the coffee table, and I grab a handful.

"So, what's up?" Liesle crosses her arms across her chest and leans back in her chair. "You've got that look."

I sigh, cracking open a pistachio. "You're not going to believe this. I've run into Buster Hankel three times in the last week."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Buster? As in, ghosted-you-four-years-ago Buster?"

"The very same." I pop the nut into my mouth, chewing slowly. "It's been almost five years now, not that I'm counting. It's been... weird."

"I bet. Where'd you see him?"

I take a long sip of water, the ice clinking against the glass. "Well, the first time was at Alabama Adventure last Saturday. And let me tell you, that was a ridiculous day."

Liesle leans forward, her eyes widening. "Oh no, were you there when that guy fell?"

"Liesle! Oh, my God! I can't believe I haven't told you this yet. Not only was I there, I had his guts all over me. Ruined my favorite tank top."

"Shut up! How did you not call me immediately?!"

"It was honestly so awful. Maddie, of course, was with me. I was traumatized, and I had to keep my shit together so Madeline didn't lose hers. And then Star came over that night. And the punches just keep coming."

"Coles. I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine. Was it just the worst?"

I nod, feeling my stomach clench at the memory. "Yeah, it was... God, Liesle, it was awful. One minute, Madeline and I were excited about which ride we would do first. And, then the next, there's this horrible sound and..." I trail off, shuddering.

"That must have been terrifying," Liesle says softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand.

"It was. And then, out of nowhere, there's Buster. He tried to talk to me, but I just... I could barely process what had just happened, much less try to talk to him after nothing for years. I couldn't deal with it. Not then."

"I don't blame you. That's a lot to process without throwing in a blast from the past."

I nod, grabbing another pistachio. "Then I almost ran into him on the street a few days later. I was rushing to a meeting with the health inspector—don't even get me started on that mess—and there he was. I barely said two words."

"And the third time?"

"Just this morning, at our pool. I don't know what he was doing there, but he was walking around with his big Peter Pan smile, all wide-eyed, checking the place out. He must be there with someone that lives there, I guess. I don't know, I didn't ask."

Liesle's eyes widen. "No way. Well, you know, things happen in threes. It will probably be another four or five years before you see him again."

"I hope so," I mutter.

2:12 pm

I walk into my condo, the silence enveloping me like a cool blanket. The door clicks shut behind me, sealing off the outside world. I stand there for a moment, letting the quiet seep into my bones.

With a heavy sigh, I drop my keys on the side table and kick off my shoes. My feet sink into the plush carpet as I reach the sofa. I collapse onto it, my body melting into the soft cushions.

The emptiness of the condo wraps around me. No cartoons blaring from the TV. No little voice asking for a snack. No toys scattered across the floor. Just... nothing.

I close my eyes, letting my head fall back against the couch. The nothingness fills me, a strange mix of relief and loneliness. It's been so long since I've had a moment like this—no demands, no responsibilities, no one needing anything from me.

My breath slows, matching the quiet rhythm of the room. The tension in my shoulders begins to unwind, knots loosening that I didn't even realize were there. In this stillness, my mind starts to empty, and the constant chatter of thoughts and worries fade into the background.

I don't move. I don't think. I just... exist. In this moment, there's no café to worry about, no health inspectors, no ex-lovers popping up out of nowhere. It's just me and the silence, suspended in time.

2:49 pm

I pull myself off the sofa, the quiet moment slipping away as I stretch my arms above my head. My muscles protest, reminding me that it's been too long since I've done anything active. A barre class is precisely what I need to shake off this funk.

I pad into my bedroom, rifling through my drawer for my favorite workout clothes. The soft, stretchy fabric of my leggings and tank top feels good against my skin. I slip on my sneakers, double-knotting the laces, and make sure I have some sticky socks to put on when I get there.

Glancing at my watch, I see it's just after three. Perfect. If I hustle, I'll have just enough time to make the 3:30 class.

I grab my Lululemon fanny pack from the hook by the door, checking its contents. The key, license, credit card, and phone are all accounted for. I snap the pack around my waist, adjusting it to sit comfortably across my body.

As I step outside, the afternoon sun hits my face, a warm breeze ruffling my hair. I set off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace, my sneakers slapping against the pavement as I take long strides.

The walk to the studio is familiar, my body moving on autopilot. I pass by the local coffee shop, resisting the urge to pop in for a quick iced latte and a bit of corporate espionage. There is nothing wrong with checking out the competition to get ideas to incorporate into my shop, right? Sigh. No time for that now.

As I walk, I feel the tension in my body falling off behind me with each step. The rhythmic movement of my legs, the steady in and out of my breath—it's already working its magic. By the time I reach the studio, I feel more centered and like myself.

When I push open the glass door, the familiar smell of eucalyptus and lavender in the studio hugs me immediately. The receptionist greets me with a smile as I check in for class. Somehow, I've made it here with a few minutes to spare.

Elixir Proper

4:41 pm

On my walk home, I pop in for a drink at the trendy cocktail bar I've been craving since halfway through my barre class. It is a slight detour but in my general direction.

The cool air inside is a welcome relief after my workout and walking in the August heat. My muscles ache pleasantly, reminding me of the intense workout I just powered through. My inner thighs are still shanking from the tiny but powerful pliés.

The bar is still quiet, with only a handful of patrons scattered at tables. It won't stay this way for long, especially on a weekend. I make my way to the sleek marble bar, sliding onto a plush leather stool. The bartender, a guy with an impressive beard and a perfectly curated tattoo sleeve sneaking out from his rolled-up sleeves, nods in my direction.

"What can I get you?"

"Vodka gimlet, please," I say, my mouth already watering at the thought. Elixir's bespoke version of this classic is something I frequently dream about.

He gets to work, his movements precise and practiced. I watch as he measures out the house-infused vodka, fresh lime juice, and a touch of their secret simple syrup. The shaker moves in a mesmerizing blur, and soon, he's pouring the pale green liquid into a chilled coupe glass.

The first sip is heaven—tart, slightly sweet, with a complexity that dances on my tongue. I close my eyes for a moment, savoring it. I catch my reflection in the mirror behind the bar when I open them. My cheeks are still flushed from the workout, and my hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. I feel like I look... alive. Energized.

It's a nice change. This was just what the doctor ordered.

I take another sip, feeling the tension of the past week start to melt away. The vodka gimlet works its magic, and for the first time in days, I'm not thinking about all of the pressures and stressors in my life right now. It's just me, this perfect drink, and the quiet hum of the bar around me.