Wake up early, get out before many others would dream of being awake. Sometimes, someone just had to get away. That and a necessity for school supplies compelled Lenora to make a trip into town. On a plus side, she also had an excuse to ask someone else to keep Kiana busy today. Without classes, Saturdays were hell when it came to avoiding the little brat cousin of hers. Besides, it was St. Patrick’s Day, and with the argument that there was Irish blood somewhere in her bloodline, she was allowed to celebrate in her own little way.

Green scarf warding of pinches of the more eager celebrators, Len lounged in as much luxury she could gain from sitting in a wooden chair at a little table. This was bliss, taking a break from her little trip into town, a little Len time as she put down the paperback she’d bought and sipped at the steaming mug before her. Some strange coffee drinking, hinting of peppermint and garnished with little green sprinkles on the whip cream in an attempt to touch the beverage with festivity for the day. It wasn’t too bad, a little oversweet, but good nonetheless. And a minuscule triumph, enjoying a drink that Kia would deem “unworthy of being called coffee because of its perverted alterations to the genuine taste.” Honestly, seven year olds really needed to be kept away from thesauruses and caffeinated beverages. The world did not need child coffee critics.

Adjusting her glasses, Len was eager to return to the mystery she held and the peace that came with passing time in cafes with a half eaten slice of pie. Not even a good book, but it was the act of reading that came with the package of peace. Eyes absorbing the words, her free hand trailed over her brown locks, absently checking for loose strands from her bun before lifting a pie-laden fork to her mouth. She liked to think of all this as perfect, just as how she imagined from what was displayed on television. Everything the way it was supposed to be.

Why couldn’t everything be more or less on a system, working out just the way it was meant? That was a mystery to her, more than deducing in the second chapter that it was the protagonist’s ex-husband’s brother who had committed the murder. And as long as she didn’t mind ordering coffee, she could probably stay here for another half an hour in her little bubble of peace.

Then her phone rang once, the shrill tune bursting her bubble with a picture that had been sent to her. Of pencils sticking out of the wall over her bed as if they’d been built right in, forming the picture of a four leaf clover. Slamming her phone shut with a hiss, Len growled. Looked as if the kid had gathered every pen and pencil in the mansion, thought to leave her “dear cousin” a holiday surprise that could be called sweet by some, a pain for the one who had to replace the stolen writing utensils and somehow remove them from the wall before she accidentally skewered herself.

No…she wouldn’t let her, at least not right. Pencil clovers aside, she wanted this to be a peaceful, perfect day where she could pretend that she didn’t have deranged relatives that somehow always ruined her picture perfect ideas of picture perfect days. Shutting off the phone, Len tossed it into her bag as she took an angry sip and was left with a mouthful of leftover cream. That was another thing she had to do if she wanted to return to her illusion of an ideal time in town. She’d thought that the rain had ruined her trip, but now, it lent a unique atmosphere as it pattered against the window. Ordering another of those minty drinks of goodness eased the stress-related headache and her wallet, but it was worth it. Tossing the end of her scarf over her shoulder, Len leaned back in her chair. This was how things always should be. As quaint and perfect as a sitcom coffee house. Only, this was a café.

With a noticeable sigh, Len abandoned her book once more to stare out the window, drawing out a romantic side of her. “Nice…” the words were muttered over the rim of her cup without realization anyone was near. Things were nice, until her elbow bumped the table and coffee splashed onto her thigh. Gasping, Len scooted back into a chair, and a person, seated in the table behind her as she grabbed for a napkin. The day didn’t like her much, did it.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t meant to hit you, spilled,” Len stumbled over the apology while she stood, curses spilled from under her breath. Couldn’t even have a nice cup of coffee, could she… Tossing the browned napkin on the table, she sighed, turning once more to the stranger behind her.

“Damn, ah, think you have another napkin?” So much for perfect. She was pretty sure she’d be leaving in embarrassment after this.

((OOC: Sorry, I typed and then edited when I discovered you’d already posted, resulting in a post that sounds off from what I really wanted. If the date is a problem, I’ll be happy to change it.))