Allie Pleiter - Small-Town Fireman

“Dylan, we enjoyed our morning,” pronounced Half Decaf, who had introduced himself as an accountant from a big firm Karla only barely recognized. “I’ll have my assistant set us up for another later in the season.” He sent a smile Karla’s way. “And I’ll be sure to leave time for breakfast.”

Dylan shot Karla a grinning thumbs-up as he headed out the door with the exiting half of the group. So far, the first-ever Coffee Catch seemed to be a success.

“Dylan said this was your idea?” Jim asked when Karla brought their food orders to the table. At Grandpa’s suggestion, Karla had asked Emily to come in a bit early so that Karla could give the fishermen her nearly undivided attention, only slipping out to make the all-too-occasional coffee drink for another customer. The executives seemed to enjoy the exclusive service—which had been the point all along.

“Seemed a nicer way to end an early morning than just getting back in the car,” Karla replied. After a second, she quipped, “The espresso machine is too heavy to roll down to the dock.”

“Smart and funny.” Jim nodded to his two companions. “And all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“I’m from Chicago, actually,” Karla explained. “Just finished culinary school. I’m helping my grandfather out while he’s laid up from hip surgery.”

“Culinary school. That explains a lot. So, Karla, what do you want to do after you finish helping Grandpa out?”

It seemed like a hundred years since anyone had asked her that question. Everyone in Gordon Falls only inquired how long she planned on staying—nobody seemed to care that she had shelved big plans to do time behind the counter. “I want to open a downtown breakfast eatery. A coffee shop like this, only a bit less...” She didn’t know how to finish that sentence without seeming to put down her grandfather’s beloved establishment.

“Rustic?” Jim finished for her.

Karla felt her face flush. “Well, yes.” She didn’t want to insult Grandpa’s place, just wanted to explain—especially to someone like him—that her dream had a lot more style and sophistication.

“It’s a well-used real-estate term. Useful when explaining grilled cheese to the panini crowd.”

She managed to laugh at that. “I get it.”

“It’s a very good grilled cheese,” Jim added. “Takes me back, you know?”

“I’m glad you liked it.” She looked at the other men. “Your breakfasts all okay?”

The other two nodded behind full mouths. “Hmm.”

Jim pulled out his wallet and handed Karla one of those top-level charge cards. “I’ll get this, boys.” He also pulled out a business card. “When you get ready to open that place, Karla Kennedy, you give me a call. I’m good at spotting people who will go far in this world.” He pointed at her. “You may just be the best catch of the day.”

Karla slipped the business card in her pocket and smiled. She’d been moaning to God in her prayer journal last night that being cooped up in Gordon Falls was feeling like a colossal detour. This morning, however, felt like God’s personalized reminder that she could pursue her dream even while out here. The card in her pocket—and the contact it represented—served as a deposit on the future she had beyond the counter at Karl’s.

The massive tip Shoemacher added to the meager breakfast tab? Well that was very nice, as well.

* * *

“So.” Jesse Sykes, a fellow volunteer fireman at the Gordon Falls Volunteer Fire Department, pulled on a gray T-shirt and shook his still-wet hair as they stood in the locker room later that afternoon. “How was the big rig gig?”

Dylan yawned—it was tiring to pull a shift as a volunteer firefighter right after a full morning of playing host to a bunch of city visitors. It was 3:00 p.m. and he’d been up for eleven hours already. “Not bad, actually.”

Jesse took one last swipe at his hair before tossing the towel he held into the large canvas laundry bin in the corner. They’d just finished a demonstration at the high school, so it wasn’t as if they’d just come in off a fire, but the heavy gear could make a guy sweat in January, much less June. “Today was the day you took them to Karl’s afterward, right? How’d that go?”

“It’s a nice perk—no pun intended.” Dylan rubbed his own hair dry. “Puts just the right cap on the morning, especially if the fish haven’t been biting, which they weren’t this morning.” One of the worst parts of the charter fishing business was that the satisfaction of his customers sometimes depended on the participation of Gordon Falls’ finned inhabitants. This morning the fish had not been cooperative.

“Came in empty-handed?”

“Not completely, but there’s always—” he made quotation marks with his fingers in the air “—the big one that got away.” He laughed. “A lot of them got away this morning. Makes it hard to keep the customers happy, you know?”

“I can imagine.” Jesse smirked. “Hey, I think the coffee thing’s a pretty clever idea, actually. A way to add to the experience no matter how the fish are biting—and a bit more sophisticated than coffee in a thermos. Anything you can do to pull in the high-end crowd is always a good thing, right? You’ve got bills to pay.”

Dylan shut his locker door and spun the lock. “Those boat loans don’t care that I’ve just about run through my savings getting this thing up and running. As for the coffee, the whole thing was Karla Kennedy’s idea, actually.”

“Karla? Karl’s granddaughter?”

“She’s studying restaurant management, or something like that. I’d have never thought of it, being a ‘coffee in the thermos’ kind of guy.” He smiled ruefully. “Although I did like whatever it was she made me the other day. Had cinnamon in it, and frothy milk. I gave up all that stuff when I stopped working downtown, but now I think maybe I might go back to some of it.”

“So you talked shop with clever little Karla Kennedy.” Jesse hoisted a bag over his shoulder. “There’s brains behind those big blue eyes.” He waggled one eyebrow at Dylan. “Reeling in more than the fishermen, are we?”

“She’s not my type and I don’t think I’m hers.” Dylan leaned against the locker he’d just shut. “Karla’s definitely a city girl. I get the feeling she can’t get back to Chicago fast enough. You should have seen her charming up my customers—she definitely prefers a high-end kind of guy.”

Jesse fished a watch out of his pocket and put it on. “You’re a high-end kind of guy. You just do it in a down-home kind of way now.”

“You just contradicted yourself, Sykes.” Dylan sat down on the locker-room bench and began tightening the laces on his work boots.

“Not necessarily.” Jesse tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, wait a minute—I thought you told me this morning’s fishermen were guys in their forties.”

“They were.” Dylan tied off the knot.

“So I highly doubt Karla was fishing for dates from them.”

“I didn’t say she was flirting with them.”

“Maybe not with words.” Jesse set his bag back down. “Look at you. You didn’t even realize you were jealous.”

“Cut it out, okay?” He was not jealous of the attention Karla had paid those businessmen.

“Likely she was just being nice. You know, making business contacts. You said she wants to open her own place back in Chicago, right?”

“She mentioned it a few dozen times.”

“So she talked to you. A lot. And she made you coffee. And you said she gave you a free lunch the other day. Do the math here, buddy.”

Dylan didn’t even bother to reply. He only shot Jesse a glare as he stood up to go.

“Man, we have to get you out more. You’re spending way too much time with fish instead of females.”