While Jo had officially blocked the beige flag, in most towns, this would be followed by peace, quiet, and maybe a celebratory mimosa. In Cedar Grove, it summoned the Ceremonial Spirit of Closure™, who emerged from the espresso machine in a puff of biodegradable glitter and whispered, “Emotional boundaries established. We ride at dawn.”
“Why is everything in this café sentient,” Jo muttered, wiping sparkles off her apron.
“You’re the one who steeped feelings into the plumbing,” Matteo replied, sliding a tray of We’ve Moved On muffins toward the front counter. Each one was frosted with phrases like “It’s Not Me, It’s You,” and “Beige Flags Are Not Aesthetic.”
The Queen of the Hollow Moon was already on her third. “These are delicious,” she said, licking blackcurrant icing from her fingers. “Very passive-aggressive. I approve.”
Clorvex burst in, followed by a small parade of enchanted confetti and a banner that read BLOCKED. BLESSED. BREWED BETTER.
“Is this a breakup celebration?” Sev asked, strolling in with a tote bag full of pinecones. “Because I brought kindling for a symbolic burning.”
Jo eyed him. “You want to burn my memories?”
Sev shrugged. “Or toast marshmallows. Depends on the vibe.”
Mira appeared with a new tea blend she called “It’s Not You, It’s Herbal,” brewed with dried hibiscus, peppermint, and righteous fury. “You should take the afternoon off,” she told Jo gently. “We’ve got this.”
Jo hesitated. “What if he comes in?”
“I’ll hex his reusable cup,” Mira said calmly. “Instant chamomile-induced ghosting.”
The vampire, her vampire apparently, arrived not long after. He held two coffees, wore a charmingly outdated cravat, and somehow always looked like he’d just stepped out of a Victorian breakup ballad.
“Ready to cope with the guilt of being the ghoster?” he asked.
Jo nodded.
“Good,” he said, sliding a cinnamon roll across the table. “I brought the good coping carbs.”
From her favorite window seat, the Queen raised her espresso in salute. “Good or bad, I do approve of this one’s bone structure.”
Matteo leaned over and muttered, “That’s basically a royal endorsement.”
Jo smiled, letting the warmth of the café, her friends, and the cinnamon roll settle around her. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she was holding her breath.
Closure had arrived…with frosting.