“Carla Makes a Situation Worse (Again)....and Again!”

Rain had already started by the time Carla and Jace stepped out of the office building. At first it was little more than a fine drizzle, soft enough that most people ignored it as they hurried toward waiting cars or the bus stop across the street. The air smelled of wet pavement, and the last of the daylight had disappeared behind thick grey clouds that promised the weather had only just begun.

Jace adjusted the two backpacks hanging from one shoulder.

"I've been carrying yours for three Fridays."

Carla glanced over at him.

"I know."

"You've become very comfortable with that arrangement."

"You haven't complained until now."

"I've complained every Friday."

"You've complained quietly."

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I think you've trained me."

"It wasn't intentional."

"I'm not convinced."

She laughed, pulling her hood over her head as another light shower drifted across the street.

Every Friday, after work, they crossed the road to Bean There before heading home. The owner already knew Jace's order before he reached the counter, while Carla usually stood in front of the chalkboard, studying the seasonal specials as though choosing a coffee required careful thought.

The routine had settled into their lives without either of them noticing. One Friday became another until it simply became what they did.

Bean There stood on the corner exactly where it always had, warm light spilling onto the wet pavement. Steam clouded the windows, and people inside laughed over mugs that looked far more inviting than the weather outside.

Jace headed toward the crossing.

After a few steps he realised Carla wasn't beside him.

She had stopped at a lamppost, staring at something leaning against its base.

"What are you looking at?"

She pointed toward a weathered wooden sign resting against the pole.

HIDDEN GROUNDS CAFÉ →

"I've never noticed this before."

Jace stepped closer and read it for himself.

"Neither have I."

Carla crouched, brushing a damp leaf away from the bottom of the sign before tracing the painted arrow with her finger.

"Do you think it's any good?"

"I've got no idea."

"We could find out."

He looked across the road.

Bean There sat less than a minute away, warm and familiar. Someone opened the café door, and the smell of fresh coffee drifted across the pavement before disappearing into the rain.

"Our coffee is over there."

"I know."

"We've already reached our destination."

She stood and looked down the narrow lane the arrow pointed toward.

"But we've never been down there."

"I've never needed to."

"Maybe we've been missing out."

He slipped his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Maybe."

She smiled.

"You don't sound curious."

"I was looking forward to coffee."

"So was I."

She nodded toward the little sign.

"I just wasn't expecting another option."

The rain settled into a steadier rhythm, tiny circles spreading across the puddles gathering along the curb.

People hurried past without paying the sign any attention. A couple crossed the road and disappeared into Bean There, shaking rain from their jackets before the door closed behind them.

Carla watched them for a moment.

"We come here every week."

"We do."

"I love this place."

"So do I."

She looked back toward the lane.

"But I spend all week doing the same things. The same office. The same desk. The same drive home." She shrugged. "A little surprise every now and then feels good."

Jace followed her gaze into the narrow street.

"This stopped being about coffee."

"It was never only about coffee."

She smiled as she said it, her attention already fixed on whatever waited beyond the first corner.

"I just want to see where it goes."

He looked at Bean There again.

Warm lights, dry chairs and fresh coffee.

Then he looked back at Carla.

She was simply waiting for him, her curiosity already carrying her toward a place she'd never seen before.

"You've already decided."

"I have."

"And if I stay here?"

"I'll probably find Hidden Grounds on my own."

He pictured the phone call that would almost certainly follow.

A long silence stretched between them before he let out a quiet breath.

"I'd like it officially recorded that this wasn't my idea."

"I'll remember that."

"You won't."

She smiled.

"You're probably right."

Without another word she turned into the narrow lane.

Jace stayed where he was for another second, watching the rain fall between the familiar café and the unfamiliar street.

Then he adjusted both backpacks and followed after her.

The lane felt like a different part of the city.

Old brick buildings stood shoulder to shoulder, their upper windows overflowing with flower boxes heavy with rain. Small independent shops lined the street, their signs swaying gently in the breeze while warm yellow light spilled across shelves filled with books, handmade pottery and old records.

Carla slowed her pace, taking everything in.

"I've worked here for three years and never knew this street existed."

"I found it once."

She glanced back.

"When?"

"There were roadworks on my usual route."

"And you came exploring?"

"I took a wrong turn."

She laughed.

"I think we tell the same story differently."

"I got lost."

"You found somewhere new."

He looked around despite himself.

The lane was quieter than the streets they used every day. Rain drummed softly against awnings, and music drifted from somewhere farther ahead before fading into the evening.

Carla smiled.

"I have a feeling this is going to be worth it."

Jace looked down the street stretching ahead of them.

"I'll decide after the coffee."

She laughed and continued walking, following the arrow toward a place neither of them had ever heard of. Behind them, Bean There disappeared from view as the rain settled over the city. The lane curved gently before opening into a small square tucked between rows of old buildings. Rain glistened on the cobblestones, reflecting the warm glow from shop windows that lined either side. A florist was pulling buckets of flowers indoors before the weather ruined them, while an elderly man carefully folded the awning outside his second-hand bookshop.

Carla slowed to a stop.

"I've walked past the main road hundreds of times."

Jace looked around.

"So have I."

"How did we never know this was here?"

"I usually look where I'm going."

"I do too."

"No."

She smiled.

"I look at everything."

"I've noticed."

A painted coffee cup caught her eye on the wall of the next building. Steam curled above it in looping swirls, and beneath it faded lettering read:

Morning Roast

The paint had cracked with age, leaving only pieces of the name behind.

"There," Carla said.

Jace glanced at the mural.

"I don't think that's our café."

"It has coffee on it."

"It also has peeling paint."

She walked closer, running her fingers over the faded letters.

"I wonder what happened to it."

"It closed."

"You know that?"

"The boarded-up windows gave me a clue."

She stepped back and laughed.

"I was trying to be optimistic."

"I appreciate the effort."

A light breeze swept through the square, carrying the rich smell of freshly baked bread.

Carla turned toward it immediately.

"Oh..."

Jace already knew.

"You smell coffee."

"I smell something."

They followed the scent around the corner until it led them to a small bakery. Fresh loaves filled the front window, and a chalkboard outside advertised cinnamon rolls and hot soup.

Carla peered through the glass.

"They have coffee."

"They do."

"We could stop here."

"We could."

She stayed where she was.

"But..."

He folded his arms.

"There it is."

"What?"

"The 'but.'"

She laughed quietly.

"We're already looking for Hidden Grounds."

"We've also been looking for twenty minutes."

"We've only just started."

He checked his watch.

"We left the office twenty-six minutes ago."

"Really?"

She sounded genuinely surprised.

"It doesn't feel that long."

"It does from my perspective."

A woman carrying a takeaway cup stepped out of the bakery, nearly bumping into Carla.

"Oh, sorry."

"No worries," the woman replied with a smile before heading into the rain.

Carla turned back.

"I should've asked."

"What?"

"If she'd heard of Hidden Grounds."

"You've decided everyone carrying coffee has information."

"It seemed reasonable."

"It feels selective."

She ignored him.

"I still think we're close."

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't know."

She looked around the little square, taking in the narrow streets leading away in different directions.

"It feels like a place that would hide a café."

He stared at her.

"I don't know how to argue with feelings about urban planning."

She grinned.

"I knew you'd understand."

"I didn't say that."

Another handwritten arrow appeared farther ahead, taped to a drainpipe.

COFFEE →

Carla's eyes lit up.

"There."

Jace walked over and studied it.

"There is no address or name on it, it could point anywhere."

She nodded.

"It could."

He looked at her.

"You still want to follow it."

"Of course."

He peeled the edge of the paper away from the pipe.

Someone had drawn the arrow with a thick black marker that had begun to bleed in the rain.

"It might've been here for months."

"It survived this long."

"I'm not sure that's the encouraging detail you think it is."

She tucked her hands into her hoodie pocket and smiled.

"I like mysteries."

"I know."

She nudged his shoulder.

"You've been smiling more than you're admitting."

"I smiled once."

"I counted three."

"You've been keeping score?"

"I've had time."

Jace smiled and shook his head. That was admittedly number four.

The rain picked up again, drumming against the roofs above them. Water spilled from overflowing gutters and splashed onto the stones below, forcing them to weave around growing puddles.

Carla pulled her hood a little farther forward.

"We should probably find this café before we drown."

"I've been suggesting coffee for half an hour."

She looked at him with complete sincerity.

"I know."

"Then why are we still walking?"

"Because if we give up now..."

She gestured toward the winding street ahead.

"...we'll never know what was at the end."

Jace followed her gaze.

He had a feeling they were about to find out.

Whether either of them liked the answer remained to be seen. The next street looked strangely familiar.

Jace slowed, his eyes drifting over the row of shops ahead. The flower shop stood on the corner with its striped awning, the bus stop sat opposite it, and the newspaper stand still displayed the same stack of evening editions.

Carla looked around before the realization settled over her face.

"I know this place."

"So do I."

She turned toward the intersection.

Across the road sat Bean There.

The lights had been switched off, chairs rested upside down on the tables, and a handwritten notice hung neatly on the glass door.

Closed. See you tomorrow.

Rain continued to fall around them, filling the silence that stretched between them.

Jace slipped his hands into his pockets and looked at Carla.

"We walked in a circle."

She stared at the café for another moment before letting out a small laugh.

"I really thought we were getting somewhere."

"You were. We just happened to arrive where we started."

She shook her head, still trying to make sense of it.

"I don't even know how we managed that."

"I've stopped asking."

He wandered back to the weathered wooden sign and picked it up. The rain had washed away enough of the white paint for older lettering to show through beneath it. Curious, he turned it over.

A faded arrow pointed in the opposite direction.

Underneath it, barely visible, were the words:

WEEKEND MARKET

He held it out to Carla.

"I think somebody reused the sign."

She stepped closer, studying the faded paint before laughing.

"So Hidden Grounds might never have been this way."

"It explains why every clue seemed to lead somewhere different."

"We spent forty-three minutes following a sign that wasn't even pointing where we thought it was."

"You spent forty-three minutes following it."

She smiled.

"You still came with me."

"I made a questionable decision."

"I call that loyalty."

He wasn't entirely sure those meant the same thing anymore.

Carla leaned the sign back against the lamppost and brushed the rain from her hands. As she stepped away, something higher up the pole caught her attention.

A bright orange flyer fluttered gently in the breeze.

She read it, and Jace saw the smile appear before she said a word.

"No."

"You haven't even looked."

"I've seen that expression before."

She pointed up at the flyer.

FREE HOT CHOCOLATE →

"What if it's amazing?"

"What if it's another piece of cardboard leading us in circles?"

She tilted her head, considering that.

"Then at least we'll know."

Jace stepped closer to read it properly.

His eyes followed the arrow.

"...Carla."

"What?"

"It's pointing back the way we came."

She looked at the arrow, then over her shoulder toward the street they had just walked through.

A slow grin spread across her face.

"Perfect."

He stared at her.

"How is that perfect?"

"We already know the route."

Before he could answer, she turned and headed back the way they'd come, following the arrow with the same quiet confidence she'd had at the beginning of the evening.

Jace remained where he was, listening to the rain drum against the pavement while he considered the very real possibility of going home alone.

It lasted all of three seconds.

He sighed and started after her.

"Jace!" Carla called from somewhere around the corner.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment before answering.

"What now?"

"I found another sign!"

A laugh escaped him despite everything.

Some lessons, it seemed, were never going to stick.