All five tables were full, as was the counter. The café isn’t much, really. Once upon a time it had been the priests’ residence for the old church school. My Dad bought it from the church and tore out a lot of the inside walls downstairs. He fixed up the upstairs and made us an apartment there, with stairs going up the outside at the back of the building. It may not be fancy, but it’s home. The café itself is kind of plain, but it has matching curtains and tablecloths, old photographs on the walls and good food. A counter with stools runs across the front of the room, separating it from the kitchen. What more does a place like Fort Desperation need? It’s pretty popular, and Mom is busy most of the time. “Coffee’s on the house” announced Mom in a loud voice that could barely be heard over the hubbub. We were almost killed in the stampede to the counter. I guess free coffee is hard to find these days. Sam and Geraldine and I surveyed the situation. The Smithers girls were there, with both parents.
