Apricot Jam

Chapter One

Tucked away in the corner of St. Louis, there was a small coffee shop called Audrey’s. It was a small, independently run café, known for its cinnamon rolls, homemade mocha sauce, and the owner’s sunny, friendly disposition.

Audrey had originally been against naming the café after herself. But, as the non-majority partner between herself and her more successful, financially independent aunt, she’d lost the battle.

Auntie Janice had insisted. Audrey was the owner of this coffee shop in every way that mattered: she should be proud of that and stake a claim. A man would, Auntie Janice had said, eyes bright like she’d already known that she’d won. Which, of course, with that simple statement, she had.

Auntie Janice had returned to her suburban retirement community three months after the café had opened, citing her old bones and her niece’s complete competence. Now, six more months in, Audrey was finally starting to feel like she was on solid footing without her aunt there. Knowing that more than a little of her aunt’s retirement fund was bustling inside of the shop’s maintenance, Audrey clung to her aunt’s approval and her mission to be in the black by the one-year mark.

Audrey was doing well; better than her accountant had anticipated, and her nightmares suggested. She was absolutely on track for a one-year solvency. She was well loved by the community, well-patronized by quiet, respectful customers, and overall had no real issues to overcome now that she’d been here long enough to get into a routine.

Her only real obstacle? Penelope King.

For as long as she’d been under her employ, Penelope had been the bane of Audrey’s existence. Bad at her job, surly, sarcastic, and clumsy, Penelope was the worst barista to ever set foot in St. Louis.

And yet Penelope was also the one demand that her aunt had made. She was the daughter of a long-dead best friend, and Auntie Janice had insisted that come hell or high water, Penelope would always have a job at Audrey’s.

Neither of the women seemed pleased with this arrangement, but the difference was, Penelope could quit. Audrey absolutely, in unequivocal terms, could not fire her. She prayed for the day that Penelope would up and leave, and never return. Peace would return to her business, and probably the whole city of St. Louis. She was sure of it.

Maybe, if she just explained this to Auntie, she’d give up this demand and let peace reign.

This isn’t what I ordered!

Audrey allowed herself one moment of deep despair, eyes falling shut and hands clenching the cleaning rag, before she plastered on her best customer smile and quickly darted to the front of the shop, where Penelope was scowling at Mr. Evans, a Monday through Friday regular.

"I made you what you asked," Penelope said, tossing her golden red hair out of her eyes. Audrey’s eye twitched. What she wouldn’t give for Penelope to at least tie her long hair back, as she’d asked her a million times. It made her skin crawl with fear that one day a customer would find a hair in their drink.

Mr. Evans’ face was turning a bright shade of purple, the familiar one he got before he started yelling at people, and Audrey had half a thought of regret for getting into the customer service industry, before she remembered that, really, it wasn’t Mr. Evans that was the problem. It was Penelope and her inability to feign politeness even for the sake of keeping Audrey’s business from crumbling to the ground.

Before she could say anything else and make it any worse, Audrey waved, a bit too big and eager, grabbing Mr. Evans’ attention. He turned and a look of relief covered his features: it was pretty well-known that Audrey was all about keeping the peace, and Penelope was all about not noticing the peace had been broken.

Hi, Mr. Evans, Audrey said, inserting herself quickly between Penelope and the front cabinet where the register sat. Their hips brushed and Audrey not so subtly bumped her out of the way. What seems to be the problem?

I ordered a latte, he said. And this is a cappuccino.

Shooting Penelope a pleading look to just stay quiet, Audrey quickly accepted the to-go cup from Mr. Evan’s outstretched hand. And, sure enough, it was light as air.

Yes, it most certainly is. A common mistake, but not one that you’d like to keep, I imagine. Diplomacy was hard. Audrey desperately wanted to just fire Penelope. Only deep familial affection— and knowing she would be outvoted by the majority shareholder— kept Penelope employed.

He asked for a light latte, Penelope scoffed, turning her scowl to Audrey. "How is that not a cappuccino?"

Audrey rolled her eyes to the ceiling and, not for the first time, prayed for a strike of lightning to take her out of this situation.

But, as was customary at this point, no lightning came. Audrey just pointed silently to the chart she’d posted above the espresso machine that listed the differences between various popular coffee drinks. Penelope nodded without even glancing over.

Audrey bit hard on her bottom lip. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything, her aunt’s voice rang in her ears, a leftover from her childhood. At least not around the customers, Audrey allowed, before setting out to remake the latte exactly as Mr. Evans ordered it. She handed it to him, thanking him for his patronage, and didn’t even wince when he walked out without replying or tipping.

He’d be back. He’d dealt with Penelope’s obnoxious version of service several times and always returned. Audrey was at least a little certain that this wasn’t the end of his patronage.

Rude, Penelope grumbled as soon as the door closed.

Audrey whirled around on her. "You’re rude," she corrected.

Penelope, unsurprisingly, was not offended by that. Sorry, she said cheerfully. As if noticing that she was skating on thin ice, she grabbed a rag and started wiping down the counter. Audrey watched her for a moment and then sighed.

Question for you, Penelope said, leaning her hip against the side of the counter. There was barely enough room across for them both to be back here, in the long but narrow space, and Audrey had to pivot with her back against the countertop on the other side in order to accommodate Penelope’s wide stance.

What is it? she asked, wringing the towel between her hands.[1] She didn’t like being this close to Penelope. There was something about the way she smelled— cinnamon and coffee, halfway from here and halfway her own— that made Audrey’s head dizzy. She didn’t, for very good reason, ever look into it farther than that. She did her best to think about Penelope King as infrequently as physically possible.

Why is it that even when no one is here— Penelope waved a hand, ignoring the five customers that actually were here; they were college students on a deadline, though, and, therefore, inconsequential— you can’t loosen up for a second?

I don’t know what you mean, Audrey said. Something sharp was poking into her back, putting her on edge. If she squirmed, though, she’d press right up against Penelope. Even ignoring the obvious harassment implications of that, Audrey just… didn’t want to be that close to her.

You’re so uptight, Penelope continued, oblivious to Audrey’s discomfort. She pursed her lips, folding her arms underneath her chest, and Audrey’s eyes burned. "I just think you would be happier if you relaxed a little."

Audrey’s head pulsed. It wasn’t quite a headache, but it was close enough. "What would make me happy, she said, voice a little strangled, is if my one, well-paid employee got back to work."

Penelope didn’t blink. She looked at Audrey, a look of disappointment flickering across her face, before she nodded. Audrey watched with relief as Penelope walked away, around the counter to the back room, and she released the breath she’d been holding.

God, that woman drove her absolutely crazy. She needed a break from her incessant rude chatter. Maybe she’d make her redraw the chalkboard menu. It was a little smudged, after all, and it was the one job that Penelope seemed to take seriously and without complaint.

Luckily, a line of post-drop-off parents came into the shop, and Audrey was dutifully and properly distracted. Penelope stayed out of sight, which was for the best.

After the parents were all served with their whipped cream coffees and pastries, the morning rush trickled away. The shop was quiet for the rest of the morning. She shooed Penelope to the back when the older, more finicky customers came in, and they avoided another incident. Audrey noticed that Penelope seemed rather pleased by this development, and she vowed to make her watch the informational training video from the ’80s again just to wipe the self-satisfied smirk off her face.

The lunch crowd wandered in around eleven, and after a quick glance in Penelope’s direction, Audrey sighed and let her take over the register. She was less likely to mess up if all she had to do was charge people, Audrey decided, and fled to the back to start whipping up today’s special.

As a two-sometimes-three-person operation, Audrey’s only had two non-bakery items available at a time. Today was grilled cheese and a veggie wrap. Audrey prepped ten of each, waiting for the orders to come in. She heard Penelope laughing and the chatter of the crowd; a peek out the storeroom door showed that the place was filling up quite nicely. Audrey nodded to herself, satisfied. With the threat of good tips on the line, Penelope would be on her best behavior.

They got through the lunch rush with almost all of their dignity. Yes, Penelope told one customer that her outfit was ugly, but thankfully the woman was gay and flattered by Penelope’s wink at the end of her insult. And, yes, Audrey did in fact burn her wrist on the grill, but she was so used to these little injuries that she simply covered it with Neosporin and wrapped it in one fluid motion.

It’s time for my break! Penelope called from the front without even bothering to check in with Audrey. Rolling her eyes, Audrey nodded. Then she scoffed at herself. As if her approval mattered to Penelope.

She knew that her opinion held little weight for Penelope, and it would take some serious boss-voice to get her to hold off on her break once she’d decided she wanted it. Luckily, this was something that Audrey actually agreed with. Overworked employees did bad work, she knew, and Penelope was not good enough to have any leeway at all.

Audrey cleaned the back room, keeping an eye on the front the best she could. Not for the first time, she considered hiring another worker. The sometimes-barista Keith only came in during the evening shifts for open mic nights, since Penelope refused to do evening shifts, but his college schedule prevented him from taking over more during the day.

And on days like today, when it felt like people were flowing in one by