"I HAVE THE PRETTIEST, saddest eyes he's ever seen? I mean, what the heck am I supposed to say to that?" Tara demanded.
Daniel, the other barista on duty, listened with rapt attention. "Did he touch you as he said it?"
She pretended she had to think about it, though the gesture was burned into her brain. "He tucked my hair behind my ear."
"That's so romantic," he sighed, absently placing the pre-filled coffee filter into the waiting container.
"Focus, Daniel. He thinks I'm sad."
He unfolded the next filter and held it waiting for the fresh ground beans Tara was scooping. "Honey, you are sad."
"Seriously? Is this what people see when they look at me?" More importantly, is this what her brother and sister saw? The last thing she wanted was for either of them to feel like she resented them for what she had to give up to take care of them.