Regina’s chestnut ponytail swung cheerfully as she entered the coffee shop and began to turn on the lights, the warm glow highlighting the decor of the cafe. A sufferer of Cucurbitophobia would have shrunk back in fear, as the general motif involved pumpkins in every form imaginable. A lover of all things fall and the biggest supporter of Maplewood Falls’ annual “Festival of Leaves,” Regina made sure the Autumn Nook lived up to its name.
The former “Queen of Leaves” pageant winner had moved back to her hometown after her soulsucking finance job in the big city made her realize all she wanted was to open a warm and comfortable space where the locals could gather to grab a cup of joe every morning. It also catered to the umpteen tourists who graced their hamlet every year. She reveled in the “oohs” and “aaahs” of every new visitor who walked into the Autumn Nook, glowing in their appreciation of all the work she put into creating the perfect cinnamon scented atmosphere. Since she sourced most things locally, all the baked goods were made shortly before they flew off her shelves. The fall-themed tchotchkes she offered for sale - the painted ceramic pumpkins to the hand carved woodland creatures to the ghost salt and pepper shakers - were all crafted by Maplewood Falls artisans.
Another day began with Regina welcoming customers through her door and into Autumn Nooks’ warm embrace, reminding her once again how blessed she was to be a part of this town and to live in the shadow of Foliage Peak.
Just as Regina was selling her first pumpkin muffin of the day, Emerson Montgomery cursed loudly in the solitude of the forest about a half a mile away from the Autumn Nook. The woman who ran the inn where he was staying had encouraged him to hike up to Frostfire Crest to enjoy the beautiful sunrise, which had seemed like a good idea at the time. The trek up to it was almost as bad as the march back down, over rough terrain, fallen trees and damp, slippery patches of leaves. The innkeeper apparently forgot to mention there was a wide, clear trail on the other side of town, which would have saved him forging his own way up and down the mountain, though it was on him that he hadn’t noticed it when he reached the summit for his trip back down.
“‘It’s about the journey and not the destination’ my ass,” Emerson grumbled as he finally made it out of the trees and onto the main road leading into town.
Covered in a layer of dew, leaves and a random twig, Emerson’s long stride brought him to the steps of The Autumn Nook within a few minutes. He gave his head a good shake before entering, releasing a shower of droplets and fronds from his shaggy mane.
As he stalked through the front door, cardamom and cuteness smacked him in the face. He moved cautiously into the warm and comforting space, his presence taking up as much space as his person. While anyone “not from here” caught the attention of the morning blue collar crowd, a man who looked like Paul Bunyun’s swarthy cousin literally made heads turn.
Emerson stepped up to the counter and waited for the gal in the oversized crimson sweater and skinny jeans to turn around. When she did, Regina jumped in surprise, since she hadn’t heard anyone come up behind her. The fact that the person towering over her looked like a bedraggled J Crew model didn’t help matters.
“My goodness, hello!” she said. “Are you ok? You look like you got into a wrestling match with a badger!”
Emerson glanced down and brushed some of the clinging foliage off his blue plaid shirt and onto the floor. As he looked up his features softened, the first sign that the comforting atmosphere had already begun working its magic. His immediate view may have affected it as well. The look of amusement and concern caused the cafe owner’s eyes to twinkle, which was quickly followed by the appearance of two adorable dimples as she smiled. He held her gaze for a moment too long, causing her already rosy cheeks to deepen into an attractive blush.
“More like attacked by a mountain,” Emerson replied, breaking eye contact to contemplate his disheveled appearance.
Regina nodded in sympathy. “Ah yes, Foliage Peak. It’s taken out many a good man.”
“I’ve heard a really good cup of coffee can take away the sting of defeat. Might I trouble you for one and perhaps a…” Emerson glanced up at the menus hanging on the back wall. “Apple Picking scone?”
“It’s a buttered scone with a side of apple butter,” Regina informed him. “The Lunar Magic is lemon poppyseed.”
“Because the moon likes lemons?”
“More like they taste like heaven and I wanted a slightly punny celestial name.”
“Fair enough. I could use some magic in my life, so I’ll try that one.”
Regina smirked and directed him to one of the open tables. Steam from the coffee curled artfully, wafting its way to Emerson even before she set it on the table before him. She returned with his scone on a plate bedecked with pumpkins decorated as ghosts. A dollop of whipped cream sat beside it, with a mint leaf to garnish.
Regina stood there, leaning on the back of the chair across from Emerson, to watch him take his first bite. He closed his eyes in appreciation and let out a contented “mmm.”
“You were right. Magic.” he said.
Regina blushed again. “Thanks. It’s an old family recipe with a secret ingredient. It’s won best scone at the Festival many times.”
Emerson wiped his mouth with an orange napkin shaped like a leaf. “What festival?” he asked.
“What festival?!” she repeated in shock. “Isn’t that why you’re in town? That’s what we’re most famous for, the Festival of Leaves! It’s a celebration of all things Fall - a corn maze, hayrack rides, pumpkin bowling, bobbing for apples, a chili cook off, bonfires, smores…and so much food! Everything from seasonal pies, local ciders and craft brews, pumpkin and apple flavored everything and of course, divine pastries,” she finished, sweeping her hand in the direction of the scone.
Emerson laughed pleasantly at her autumnal enthusiasm as he finished his coffee. “I had no idea I’d stumbled upon such seasonal splendor. I’ve been traveling north from the big city to do some hiking and enjoy being outdoors while the weather is so nice. Everything you named sounds fun, but not really something one does on their own.”
“Well, you’re in luck, sir!” Regina said with an enticing smile. “As the (*cough*self appointed*cough*) head of the welcoming committee, I would be happy to be your personal tour guide tomorrow, should you wish to partake in any or all of the festivities.”
Emerson beamed up at her, clearly interested. “That sounds perfect. What time do things get started? And where should I meet you?”
“The cafe is closed, since we have a booth at the festival, but we could meet up here at say, noon? We can start at the Crescent Coffee Cart and then head over to vote on the chilis, ie. lunch. And then wing it from there.”
Emerson agreed to the plan and stood up, heading to the counter to pay. Regina cashed him out and then enjoyed the view as she watched him walk out of her cafe. One of her regulars, Bob the mailman, looked up at her as the door closed. There was a strange gleam in her eye that caught his attention.
“What’s wrong, Regina?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said with a blissful laugh. “I couldn’t be better. I just met the man I’m going to marry!”
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