notlizzy-blog

[notlizzy-blog]

Probably more than Lucas can afford. If you weren't going to drink it, you shouldn't have ordered it.

      Okay, I totally spoiled myself on Grecian coffee — threw out a perfectly good frap solely because it didn’t taste the same as the ones I had in Athens. How much do you think it’d cost to get some beans imported?

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Something along those lines, sure.

Y’know, normally it’s the person on my side of the counter doing the venting. But I don’t mind it. Relationship troubles?

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I might talk to him later. Thanks for the offer; I might take you up on it. It's been hard trying to keep a front around him.

Well, Bossman is in the backroom if you want to talk to him. I hope you feel better soon though, if you want, I could babysit Falcon for an evening if you need some time alone?

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Did you miss the part where I said I'm going home? Fuck.

Please do it somewhere else. 

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I don't have the concentration for that today. Can't you just... tell Lucas I wasn't feeling well and I went home, or something? Or maybe I'll get more sympathy if I just said what's really on my mind.

But we need your help taking inventory at the store!

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I do not want to be anywhere but my bed today... I think I'll just go home, eat lots of of ice cream and write about how true love doesn't exist.

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Slipped into her bag mid-shift is an enveloped marked 'Lizzy'. Inside lies two tickets to Six Flags Magic Mountain and two bus passes. 'Merry Christmas Lizzy, treat yourself and the little one on me, but don't have too much fun. Love, Adrianna."

When Lizzy got home and emptied her bag, she found an envelope that wasn't there this morning. Sucking in a large breath, she peeled away the flap and tipped it upside-down. After receiving that crown from Kasey (which was still on her head), she wasn't ready for anymore gifts. At least this couldn't be anything more than a card. 

Two tickets to Six Flags Magic Mountain fell out, along with some bus passes and a small note. Lizzy lost hold of her breath and gave a sharp cough, and continued to hack while she read the message. 'Merry Christmas, Lizzy. Treat yourself and the little one on me, but don't have too much fun. Love, Adrianna.' 

Eventually, she managed to breathe normally again. She didn't deserve this, but maybe it was what she needed. If anyone could take her mind off Maxxie, it was Falcon.

[notlizzy-blog]

In the area where Lizzy leaves her things during her shift at the Neutral Ground, there is a white box and inside is a plastic crown that's been bedazzled and decorated to look like those that beauty queens get and a card with it saying: To the prettiest barista and one of the best moms that I've ever known. Merry Christmas Lizzy!

She felt pretty awful - even more so then she already was - when she lifted the crown out of the box and placed it on her head. Lizzy decided early on that she wasn’t going to give presents this year, except to Falcon. No-one was going to look after her kid if she sat back and lost ground; no-one was stepping up to pay for Christmas dinner or Santa’s fare. So she cut expenses any which way she could, fast and dirty. Except now her frugality squeezed at her brain. Kasey gave without expecting to receive and goddamn, that wasn’t fair.

It did fit like a dream, though.

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"My son," Lizzy gestured to her little boy, who had fallen asleep in the chair beside her. "I think he has a cold, or flu, or something. I don't know; he's just sick." Mother and son matched in appearance - the tips of their noses were red, and their eyes puffy - except for her, it was for an entirely different reason.

Elizabeth quietly shut the door of the examination room behind her and immediately grabbed her pen. Trying to fight off her tiredness, she inquired as gently as she could, “So, what seems to be the problem?”

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Out of Goodbyes ✐ Self Para

Opening a new tab in her web browser, she typed the same address that was in all the others - facebook.com. She'd been warned that social media was addicting, but she still didn't expect to become hooked. Now it was 2am and Lizzy didn't want to sleep, not yet. She sat bleary-eyed at her desk, her second voice chastising her as the minutes ticked by. She should go to bed, for the longer she laid in it the more sleep she'd get, and the better she could face tomorrow.

These days, within seconds of waking up, she was on the computer and drinking the feedback into her senses. Did anyone like her status; comment on her new profile picture? From there, it'd all go downhill. She'd leave the milk on the counter and realize her car keys were missing. She'd put her apron on back-to-front and accidentally give the morning rush decaf. Had she always been this way or was this the price she paid for her new life? Lizzy had two options and, either way, they suck. Should she choose sleep over her social life, or what?

The screen light illuminated the otherwise dark room and made her halo of blonde hair though. Lizzy placed her elbow on the desk and leaned against her hand, her fingernails lightly digging into the soft skin of her cheek. Her friends, all fifty or so of them, actually had the audacity to sleep at an acceptable time - and here she was, clicking the 'refresh' button again and again, just willing for someone to come online. Lizzy was bored.

Her eyes lingered over the page and locked onto the search bar. She dragged her cursor over and began to type: Elena St. Clair.

After scrolling through a few pages of results, she managed to find the profile of her former best friend. It was set to private but, even then, she managed to learn a little more about the girl she called her 'sister.' Living in Chicago. Preschool teacher. Married to Thomas Waterford. "Thomas?" Lizzy snorted. She could have had any guy she wanted, and she married Thomas?

Curiousity took hold of her. She strained through millions of profiles in search for her friends, lovers (with the exception of him; she couldn't bring herself to do it), enemies - if they were once apart of her life, Lizzy searched for them. Unsurprisingly, Richelle only had an official fan page. Max wasn't a big, famous fashion designer like their sister, and he was easier to find.

His profile was public and, scrolling down his feed, Lizzy's heart dropped.

'rip bro, you're at the concert in the sky now.'

'I can't believe you're gone... You were a great musician and an even greater friend.'

'I'm going to miss you so much, I love you xx'

'It is with great sadness that I announce the death of our son and brother, Max Oliver Redmont. He went for a walk and accidentally stepped in front of a car. Thank you for the messages of sympathy that has been sent our way. Maxxie is now with his younger sister, Avery, and we're confident he's in a good place. Please continue to keep us in your prayers. - Elroy, Nettie and Richelle Redmont.'

The house was silent but, if one listened intently, one could hear small sniffs and the blinking of briny eyes.

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"Broke Baristas Fund is a non-profit organization - I think - dedicated to improving the life quality of baristas in the Crystalmont region. Just a few dollars can provide a loaf of bread or pack of toilet paper to a coffeemaker in need."

"Can I get a Caffe Americano with that?" Obliviously innocent as his response may have been, a handful of change still hovered over the glitter bomb- "..wait, what exactly does the BBF support? Life expenses, or an extra round of shots at the next staff party?"

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The note in her hand (and in her tin) caused her words to become caught in her throat. She stared in bewilderment at it, then up at Autumn, and then down at the note again. Forty dollars? Forty dollars? That alone would be enough for Falcon's present this year - he requested a tank of sea monkeys, the 'pirate-themed one.'

She'd never made this much off a single drink. Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, Lizzy coughed and shoved the money into her apron pocket. Better not screw this up, Trestle. Your kid's Christmas is on the line. "What size would you like? Either way, I'm going to need a lot of coffee."

"I’ll gladly add to your funds if you could make something taste sweet but pack enough punch to last me roughly twelve hours." Her eyes flickered between the blonde’s nametag and the piggy bank. Autumn pulled out two twenties. One she handed to Lizzy, the other she put into the bank. "I’ve put enough bad into the world to owe it some good once in a while." 

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"I'm saying that every cent counts." She picked up the tin and gave it a shake. While she managed to acquire a few donations, it sounded mostly empty. "C'mon, bossman. Even with the smallest contribution, you can change lives."

"Are you saying that I don’t pay you enough?" Lucas teased.

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"If you give one gift this Christmas, make it to the Broke Baristas Fund." Lizzy batted her eyes and gestured towards the piggy bank on the counter. It was bright pink and decorated exclusively in glitter; it was obvious who it belonged to. "Even a dollar makes a difference. Be a good Samaritan."

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No, no. You are not getting me onto that lake. I will either fall and break an ankle or the ice will break under me. Then who'll cook the Christmas ham this year? Huh?

[notlizzy-blog]

#4: 'TIS THE SEASON

Lizzy is anything but a Grinch. 

She takes the extra time to make sure the presents are wrapped in impeccable condition, then tops them with a bow and a handmade name tag. Her sister, Richelle, used to help her, although this position has been taken over by Falcon.

Her family hosted two parties each year, separating family from friends and business associates. A lunch function occured at Daddy's office at the beginning of the month, where little Avery would indulge on Thai prawns with coconut and salmon brochettes. Other than the food, it wasn't very interesting, mostly because there was no one her age to talk to.

It was the Redmont Christmas Dinner that she looked forward to. Everyone from her cousins to that one great-uncle flocked to Chicago on Christmas Eve and stay until morning, when presents were opened. Lizzy still has the taste of Grandma Mavis' glazed ham and chocolate pudding, which she's tried to recreate (and failed). These days, it's pizza with her son.

Lizzy has so many Christmas DVDs that, if she wanted to watch them all, she's have to start in July. It was a tradition with him to watch Bad Santa at least once in December. It's her favourite Christmas film. She hasn't watched it in five years.

She will protect the eggnog with her life and make sure no one spikes it, even if she's tempted to do it herself.

Lizzy doesn't believe in Jesus or any of that lore. She makes a consious effort to keep all religious decorations out of her house, although she's made an exception for the star on top of her tree. Christmas, to her, is all about family. Before she and Falcon settled into Crystalmont, it was the only routine they had. Now that they're here, though, Lizzy's ready for a permanent spot for her tree, and her star.

[notlizzy-blog]

I certainly hope so. I still struggle with that coffee machine, sometimes - there's too many buttons! Maybe I should stick to simpler tasks. Have you got someone on decoration duty yet?

These new ones are easier, I promise.