COOL BEANS by Erynn Mangum Page A

I was at Cal-Hudson by then.”
    “He was a sweet boy.” Mom’s still gushing. “I never understood why you two broke up. You were the cutest couple ever!”
    “He played football,” Dad tells Kate. “He got a scholarship to Stanford as a running back.”
    “Impressive,” Kate says.
    “He tore his knee last game of freshman year. Never went back.” Dad finishes his little tale, and then everyone looks at me.
    “Anyway …” I finish my story quietly. “Jen met him, and now they’re dating, and she doesn’t know that we dated because we hadn’t met yet when Travis and I were together, and now Travis doesn’t recognize me. Has anyone seen the server? I’m starving.”
    “Didn’t he get some high honors senior year at Stanford?” Mom asks. “I seem to remember Gloria saying something about that.”
    Apparently, Mom is the only one who didn’t hear me because Dad, Zach, and Kate are all staring at me like I’m holding a betta fish in my mouth like Giselle on
Enchanted.
    “What?” Zach asks. “How could he not recognize you? He was going to marry you, for Pete’s sake.”
    “Who doesn’t recognize you?” Mom asks.
    “He’s dating Jen? Weird.” Dad shakes his head. “Is that weird for you?”
    “Who’s dating Jen?” Mom asks.
    “I think … I think you might want to tell her … um, soon,” Kate stutters.
    “You haven’t told who what?” Mom asks.
    “That’s — wow.” Zach sits back against the bench and looks at me, eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry, kid. That’s got to be awkward — Jen and Travis dating.”
    “What?” Mom gasps. “Travis is dating your roommate?”
    I just sigh.
    I am so full that I don’t think I’ll be able to eat for a good week, maybe two. I puff my cheeks out and look at Calvin, who’s happily sticking his head out the window as we drive to Mom and Dad’s after dinner.
    “No more eating. Ever again,” I tell him.
    Based on his expression of sheer joy, he doesn’t believe me. Either that, or he knows where we’re going. Calvin loves Mom and Dad’s house. Dad lets him on the couches, while Jen and I have a strict “no dogs on anything resembling furniture” rule. He’s a spoiled granddog.
    I pull up beside their mailbox and let an ecstatic beagle out of the car. He half-runs, half-hops a dog dance to the front door.
    “Hi, Calvin!” Mom says in a high-pitched voice as I open the door.
    “Roo! Roo!”
    She laughs as he tucks his tail under him and runs to her like she’s his longlost best friend. “Wow. Okay. Easy boy.”
    “Calvin,” I call, with warning in my tone, as I pull off my jacket. “No jumping.”
    He immediately falls to the floor, and Mom starts giving him a deep-tissue back rub. “Is you a good wittle puppy? Yes, you is!” She baby talks to him. He just moans like a cat.
    No wonder my dog loves this place so much.
    Zach watches the whole thing, arms crossed. “Huh. How come when I run to you, you never give me a back rub?” he asks Kate.
    She smiles. “Your ears aren’t as cute.”
    “Well, thanks.”
    After another hour of sitting straight-backed on the sofa and making awkward small talk, I decide to go home. “Come on, Cal,” I call. He gives me a grudging look from Dad’s lap, where he’s now getting a tummy rub.
    “Leaving already, sweetheart?” Mom asks from the recliner.
    “I have to open at Cool Beans this week,” I explain, finding my coat and purse.
    “What time do you open?” Zach asks.
    “Seven, but that means I’m there by about six thirty.”
    He waves his hand. “That’s nothing. My early surgeries are all scheduled for six o’clock in the morning. Consider yourself lucky you’re not operating on someone when you get to work all tired.”
    I bite back a sigh. “Right, right.” I know he’s not trying to point out the vast difference in our careers, but it sure feels like it.
    “It was nice seeing you again, Maya,” Kate says politely. It looks like she’s debating giving me a hug, but