“One breakfast special and black coffee delivered! Thanks for waiting!”

Constantine blinked back to awareness as the server girl put down a plate of piping hot meal and a cup of coffee in front of her. She looked at her side, where she could see the miles of flat land covered in tall weeds through a clear glass. Right, she just went out for breakfast at a small café a short walk away. She rubbed her tired eyes, trying to stay more awake.

She did not plan on staying up all night, but she got caught up reading through all the notes and letters that covered every available space within the book. She failed to notice that the sun was already up until the soft morning light entered through the window. 

Knowing that she still needs to finish packing all the stuff in her Great Aunt’s house, a proper breakfast was in order. The realtor did tell her that it will probably take time to prepare the papers, so at least she still has enough time—

“Oh wow,” Constantine unconsciously blurted as she looked at her spoon in surprise, then at her plate. She was half asleep when she gave her orders earlier. Needless to say, it is a good surprise to find the food this delicious.

“You like it?” the woman who brought her plate earlier walked closer to her, a wide smile on her face. She had her wild curly dark hair tied up in a handkerchief, and her chin was stained in flour. “You were pretty much murmuring when I asked for your order, and you looked dead in your seat, so I thought I’d just bring you the breakfast special for the day. Well, actually, you said something about breakfast, and I thought that this was the closest thing I had on the menu, so I went ahead and prepared it. I was kinda worried that I messed up the order and offended you, so I was so relieved that you seemed to like it!”

The young woman said all of that in a single breath, which was actually impressive. Constantine blinked and replied, “No, I’m not offended. The food tastes delicious. Are you the cook here?”

“Cook, server, and owner, all in one,” the girl nodded. “Never really needed staff because. . . well.” She gestured at the place; more specifically, at the lack of customers. “Many of the residents in these parts are old folks, and not all of them are willing to move outside at this early in the day. Mornings here are often chilly, especially around November to early February.” The young woman tilted her head slightly to the side, looking at Constantine curiously. “Did you just move here? I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before. Oh! If you don’t mind me asking,” she quickly added.

 “Oh no, I don’t live here. I was only packing up the stuff my late great aunt owned before it was officially listed for sale.” Constantine took a sip of the coffee and thought this was the best cup she had ever had in her life. 

“Oh! You’re Old Mrs. Onner’s relative!” the girl exclaimed. “We were wondering what’s going to happen to that house after her death last year. Sweet lady. Likes to walk around the neighborhood in the afternoon.”

"You know her, then?"

"A regular here. Said she loved my pancakes and bacon," the woman sighed, though her smile was now tinted with sadness. She quickly shook her head. "She barely had any visitors here, but I think she mentioned a nephew once. . ?"

Constantine swallowed the small lump in her throat. “Yes, that would be my late father. A letter was sent last year regarding the property, but it was buried under some other letters during my father’s funeral, so. . .”

The woman looked shocked for a moment before looking apologetic. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she told her, her voice softer. Constantine was expecting pity and awkwardness from the woman, much like how people tend to get whenever she mentioned her father, but she could only see a hint of understanding and sympathy in the other girl’s expression. Constantine gave a small smile in return, finding it easier to do today. “Thank you.”

The woman’s smile widened. “Well, I don’t really have that many friends here around my age.” She offered her hand, “My name’s Amelia. Oh! And I just turned 27 last month.”

Constantine couldn’t help but huff slightly in amusement. The other woman’s energy felt like fresh air. She reached the offered hand and shook it. “Constantine. And I’m also turning 27 this August.”

“Hey, I’m a bit older!” the woman, Amelia, exclaimed before her eyes widened and her lips quickly shut tight. Constantine raised an eyebrow as she watched the other looking sheepish. “Sorry, I tend to let my mouth run a bit.” 

Constantine shook her head, “Don’t worry, it’s harmless.” She took another bite at her breakfast. It was a simple omelette with two crispy strips of bacon and some carbs of choice. Everything was cooked to perfection; the eggs were tasty and seasoned in balance, and the bacon was perfectly cooked and crackled as she bit into it. “These are really good.”

“Thanks,” Amelia grinned. “Learned the recipe from my grandma. Best cook I have ever met.” She sounded quite proud as she said it. “She even helped me decorate this place. It was an antique store previously, and there’s, like, a ton of things to sort out. It was almost overwhelming. Grandma, bless her soul, thankfully has a good enough sense of style to help me choose which tables and chairs to get so it wouldn’t clash.”

She’s quite a talkative one, Constantine thought, unbothered as she continued with her meal. Amelia jumped from topic to topic without any splutter or pause, excitedly talking about the small town (“They called this side of town Cornfield because most of the flatlands here were used to plant corn. I’m not sure if it’s deliberate or they just can’t think of anything.”), the café (“It picks up around noon, but I also do home deliveries.”), the people (“All the ingredients I use are fresh! I have some farmers here that I have a good relationship with, and they allow me to source my ingredients from them at a discount!”). She didn’t force Constantine to talk more about herself, which was a relief. Constantine found the talk and company comforting, the other woman’s tales adding a comforting background as she ate. After all, Anthony loved to talk during meals like this, as well.  

As she was finishing her coffee and getting ready to leave, Constantine heard a sound of what seemed to be pans falling down the floor, followed by a series of yelping cries. Alarmed, she ran towards the back, where she saw Amelia enter, and found said girl running and jumping around while trying to pull off her apron, which had caught on fire.

Constantine stood there for a second before quickly helping the woman off the burning article.

“Whew, thanks for that,” Amelia smiled, hair in disarray. She sighed, “And I was doing well this month, too. . .”

She didn’t seem to have any burns, thankfully. “So, I take it it’s. . . a common occurrence then?”

Amelia’s smile turned sheepish. “I’m already used to it. My grandma even told me that I have two left hands. Ah, but it never really got bad, thankfully, so I was never in danger before. Sorry if I worried you.”

“Well, as long as you’re fine.” The two migrated to two empty chairs in the kitchen, and after seeing that nothing seemed to be in any danger of fire after the poor apron, Constantine stood and informed the other that she would be going. “I was about to call you for my tab earlier.”

“Oh, right!” Amelia held her by the wrist and guided her back to the front counter. “Actually, I’ll just have the meal on the house, especially after that embarrassing scene you had to witness.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t—”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry!” Amelia waved away any objections. “I gave you quite a fright, and you have helped me after getting into an accident. Let me at least show my gratitude for that.” 

It took some time to convince Constantine to agree. “You’re still tidying up Mrs. Onner’s house, right?” Amelia asked her. “Just order another meal here, and we can settle it at that. I could never say no to more business opportunities.”

“Fine,” Constantine said, shaking her head in surrender. She then smiled as she heard Amelia shouting goodbye to her as she exited the café, hand waving and hair still dishevelled. No one could say that making new friends is not a good feeling.

As she stood by the porch of her great aunt’s house, something about what Amelia told her finally sank in her mind. “Great Aunt’s Marta’s last name was Onner?”

That night, as she got ready for bed, Constantine grabbed her Great Aunt’s book and opened on a random page.