Fawn stepped up to the coffee shop counter, where there were stools on which one could sit while waiting for an order. She hadn’t eaten anything at the party. Her nerves were already making her nauseous when she rode the elevator up to bring the tray of mooncakes. When the doors opened, she felt like all eyes were on her. 

     She had done her best to focus only on the tray and the path to table. Along the way, she could hear the snickers and comments about her clothes. As she set the tray down, a strange feeling made her look to the side of the room. Garrett was standing with his brother closely watching her. 

     When Monique made her snide remark about her Chinese culture, she looked at him again expecting him to say something. The things she and the others were saying were blatantly racist, but he did nothing. Her heart died a thousand times, and she knew he’d never be someone she could count on. 

     “Sellout,” she’d mumbled to herself as she’d left the bullpen. 

     She took a deep breath as she waited to be helped and tried to remember what Zhù had said regarding people being critical of their own kind. She’d thought about it as she’d made the cakes, and she supposed he had a point. 

     People like Garrett were raised to fit in, and when they fell into the routine, it became their identity. When they saw someone of their own culture who cared more about heritage than blending with society, perhaps they hated themselves for losing that part rather than hated the person who refused to assimilate. 

     She’d suffered in many ways to hold onto the family she couldn’t remember. She had no sympathy for people who could gleefully forsake their birthright. 

     “Good morning! What can I get you?” called out the barista, and Fawn swallowed back the tears to answer. 

     “May I have a tuna sandwich and a hot tea, please?” she ordered. 

     As the woman went to prepare the food, Fawn removed her black cloak and set it across the back of the stool. She breathed in the fresh smell of baked goods and coffee and looked across the counter at the other treats on display. 

     Garrett snuck in behind a group of customers on their lunch break so Fawn wouldn’t see him. He made his way around the tables until he was at one set a bit behind her. He wondered if she was meeting someone or had simply stopped to grab something to eat. 

     As he watched, he saw an older man approach on her left. He paid close attention to how he behaved when he intentionally sat beside her.

     “Mornin’!” Fawn heard very near her ear. 

     She turned and leaned back against the stool, her eyes wide at the man’s sudden appearance. There were other empty stools and plenty of tables free, but he’d chosen to sit next to her. She cleared her throat and looked around for the barista. 

     “Well, look at you!” he continued. His voice was somewhat loud and jovial with an accent like those of the men who spent their days at the dock. “Are ya doin’ a Christmas play? Are ya Mrs. Claus? Baaaah! You’re too young to be her! They shoulda cast you as a Christmas angel!”

     Another barista approached them with a shaking head. She was around Fawn’s age and didn’t look like the type to tolerate men and their crude behavior. 

     “Why are you bothering her?” she angrily asked. “Did she invite you to sit there? Ma’am, do you know him?” 

     Fawn shook her head and looked away to watch the one who was preparing her food. She tried to ignore what was happening beside her. She didn’t like confrontation, and she wanted to leave without trouble.

     “Oooh, I’m not botherin’ her,” the old man replied with a huff. “Darlin’, am I botherin’ you?”

     Fawn didn’t answer. She just continued watching her sandwich being made. 

     Garrett glared at the old man and wondered if he should intervene. How would she react if she knew he was there? He didn’t speak up for her at the office, so he felt he should do so now. 

     He noticed where she was looking and it appeared as though her order was almost complete. He would wait a bit longer and keep an eye on her when she left. 

     “You’re always in here bothering women,” the barista continued to admonish the older man. 

     “Well, I do apologize if the young lady is bothered,” he said in a softer tone. “Little lady, please accept my sincere apology if I said somethin’ wrong. I meant no offense. As you can see, we don’t have many attractive women in this town. A beautiful girl like you doesn’t come around often.” 

     Fawn’s eyes widened again as she looked at the two female baristas behind the counter. The one who had been making her sandwich dropped the bag containing the food in front of Fawn and handed the hot tea to her. The one who had been chastising his behavior was turning red with fury. 

     “Who are you calling ugly, dirty old man?” she angrily asked. 

     The one with Fawn’s food laughed. “What makes you think any woman, beautiful or not, would want the likes of you, Mr. Carver?” 

     “Now, look here,” he said as he straightened on his stool to defend himself, “I been married three times. That means three women wanted the likes of me.” 

     “Where are they now?” Fawn’s barista asked, the smile still wide on her face. 

     Fawn took money from a pocket inside her cloak and handed it to her. 

     “Done ran off with rich men,” Mr. Carver scoffed. 

     He huffed when the two women laughed at him and watched as Fawn slipped her cloak back on. 

     “Miss, I truly am sorry for offendin’ you,” he ashamedly apologized. “I’m old and rough around the edges. I say things that come to me without thinkin’. How about you let me pay for a cup of hot chocolate? That tea won’t keep the chill away like hot chocolate.” 

     Fawn shook her head and held her hand up to stop him as he reached for his wallet. 

     “You didn’t offend me,” she replied in a tone almost too quiet for Garrett to hear. “You needn’t buy me anything. Thank you, anyway.”

     As she started to walk away, he rested his hand on her arm. 

     “You shouldn’t be walkin’ out alone, Miss,” he told her. “At least let one of these young men here escort you to your car. Unless you have a man at home, that is. I don’t wanna get ya in trouble.” 

     She watched him laugh and saw the disapproving expressions on the two baristas, though their angry frowns had gone away. 

     “I don’t have a man at home,” she replied. “I’m broken and can’t be fixed.” 

     The barista’s looked at one another in surprise of her reply, and the older man looked away in regret for perhaps making her sad. 

     Garrett swallowed his pity for her as he watched her leave. While the baristas went about their work, he quickly followed her without being seen.