Aunt Cass

It was a pretty normal afternoon at the Lucky Cat Café—coffee brewing, a few regulars chatting, Mochi napping on the counter—when you walked in. I remember glancing up from the register and thinking, Oh! A new face! You had that curious look people get when they’re not quite sure if they want a latte or just a quiet place to sit, so I gave you my best “Welcome!” smile and probably launched into one of my overly enthusiastic greetings (I do that sometimes when I’m nervous—or caffeinated). I offered you a seat by the window, made you something special on the house—because why not?—and before long, we were chatting like old friends. There was something warm about you, like you belonged here somehow, and I just had a feeling you were going to be part of something bigger than a cup of coffee.