Welcome to Write the Story! Each month, Writers Unite! will offer a writing prompt for writers to create and share a story with everyone. WU! wants to help our members and followers generate more traffic to their platforms.  Please check out the authors’ blogs, websites, and Facebook pages and show them support. We would love to hear your thoughts about the stories and appreciate your support! 

Stills

Kelli J Gavin 

I always said I wouldn’t return. This small town was never home to me. I was here for such a short time, I don’t think anyone will remember me. When I received the letter requesting my presence from the Law Firm of Stills, Stills & Barkley, it stopped me in my tracks. I must have read through the letter three times before I understood what it was really saying. 

        -As I already knew, the owner of the coffee shop where I worked for 8 months in my late teens had passed away.

        -I am welcome to come early on the 20th of December, and attend the funeral at 11 a.m. at the Barkley Funeral Home in town. After, a light luncheon will be served at Barkley’s, the aforementioned coffee shop. At 3 p.m. Mr. Barkley from Stills, Stills & Barkley would like to meet with me at Barkley’s to hand over a large box left to me by Mrs. Stills who owned Barkley’s. 

        -I was to inform Mr. Barkley if a room at the Stills Inn should be reserved in my name for that night or if I would be leaving town right away. 

            I giggled out loud reading the letter. In the town of Stills, The Stills and Barkley families owned everything. The coffee chop, the funeral home, the inn, the two restaurants, the bank and bakery, the gas station, the thrift store, etc.. You name it. Someone with the last name of Stills or Barkley owned it. Stills  only had a population of about 7500 people, but you were a novelty if your last name wasn’t Stills or Barkley. Generation after generation called Stills home and they lead quiet, content lives. There was no reason to live anywhere else when Stills had all that they would need. 

            I lived in Stills for just over a year. My dad was a nomad by nature. Never spending too much time in any one place, I got to see most of the United States by the time I graduated high school. I loved history and road travel, so this was the highlight of my young years. Because my dad and I spent so much time together, I was his captive audience. He taught me everything he knew and emphasized the importance of being a lifelong learner. He challenged me to read books beyond my understanding and to make notes with any questions I had. We then addressed those questions at dinner each night. Because we moved so often, he also tasked me with navigation and to learn everything about each location we passed through, or even when settled for a spell. When did the town and state originate? What is the population and topography? Were there any interesting historical happenings in a specific town or state? It was almost as if my dad challenged me with verbal book reports daily. I gladly relayed all the information that I learned at local libraries, historical societies and on the internet. 

            A year long construction contract brought my dad and I to Stills. My mom had died 5 years prior of an aggressive brain tumor and since, it was just him and I. At 17, moving to the small town of Stills was probably the first time I objected. Dad told me we needed the money and the town of Stills needed someone with experience who could work on both residential and commercial properties. Dad was made the Foreman of three specific projects. He would oversee three sites, one with twelve single-family homes, the commercial building which would house the car dealership, and the new restaurant and large gift shop at the end of town. It was a big undertaking for a small town to accomplish this much in a year, but they had faith in my dad’s proven skills and he delivered. 

            Beginning my senior year actually on time with the other students my age was something that had rarely occurred in the past. Often, I would would start school at random times, November, January 1st and even April. Whenever we moved, dad always gave me a few weeks to adjust and then informed me of my start date. He would hand me money for a new backpack and school supplies and I was expected to do my best traveling around town on my own and acquire what was needed for school and clothing. The town of Stills was laid out so well with something interesting on each of the downtown streets. There were three new and used clothing stores, a bakery, a hardware store, a 99 cent store and an office supply store on Main Street alone. I was able to grab what I needed and then some. Things were so much less expensive in this small town than what we had encountered in the last two larger cities. 

            The teachers were excellent at Stills High School and I even made friends quickly. The other students were friendly and kind and helped me become comfortable in my new surroundings. I joined the choir and started taking a before school art class, but a few months into school, I was bored. I enjoyed spending time with my friends, but I needed to find an activity after school. I enjoyed the coffee at Barkley Coffee Shop so much, I figured after school I should ask if they are hiring. Mrs. Stills told me they weren’t hiring, but she would 100% hire me. She explained that she observed that I worked so hard on my homework when there, didn’t entertain conversations with friends and acquaintances until I was finished, and was always kind to the wait staff. I blushed at the minor compliments. She told me that I would need to be comfortable using the register, warming up baked goods, preparing coffee drinks, clearing tables and doing dishes. She also explained that if I closed I would need to clean the tables, floors and bathrooms. I felt I could do well with all of that and asked her if she needed to fill out an application. 

            “Sweet child. You are hired. I just ask that you show up on time when scheduled and don’t leave me hanging. Stay off your cell phone and be kind to every person who enters those doors.” Mrs. Stills replied.  

            Thrilled beyond belief, I asked when I could start. 

            “Now. You start now. Go wash your hands and I’ll get you an apron.” She smiled earnestly. 

            I loved working at Barkley Coffee Shop. I loved the employees, the customers and especially Mrs. Stills. I worked about 12-15 hours a week and enjoyed every moment of it. I learned so much about organizing everything for each new day, and even started learning how to keep the books. Mrs. Stills entrusted me to bring the deposits, cash and checks to the bank each afternoon before the bank closed and I always raced back so that she could go home and make dinner for her husband and relax. My time with Mrs. Stills was something I will always cherish. She was kind and encouraging, helped with homework when I got stuck and showed me how to make 6 baked items from scratch. I had never spent much time in the kitchen with my mom when I was little, so learning how to make baked goods was a delight. My dad loved when I then recreated them at home. Twice a month, she asked me to go to her home and cook dinner with her. She always made something easy, nutritious and delicious. I knew how to make 12 full dinners from scratch just by spending a free evening two times a month with Mrs. Stills. 

            The conversations that we had when it was just the two of us, are something I will always hold dear. She explained her heartache at never being able to have children and that she always wanted a daughter. She said she loved our time together so much and that she was touched that I enjoyed spending time with her and learning from her. She smiled and hugged me often. “You beautiful girl. The daughter I always prayed for!”

            My dad admired my baking and cooking skills as much as he was thrilled with my grades and the fact that I knew how to keep a checkbook, save money, make wise purchases and converse about things that matter. 

            Beaming at me across the dinner table one evening, my dad said, “Alyssa. You make me so happy. I love seeing you enjoy what you are doing and maturing into a well rounded human. I am so thankful that Mrs. Stills is pouring into your life and helping you grow. I feel she is an absolute God-send.”

            When my dad’s year-long contact approached it’s final month, he explained that he asked to stay on for future projects in Stills, but nothing was slated for the next six months. He said we would be leaving Stills. Leaving Stills? But that was the last thing I wanted to do. We stayed in Stills for a total of 13 months. 13 months wasn’t enough. 13 more wouldn’t be either. I had graduated and decided to take a gap year. Dad encouraged me to commit to only one year off and then promptly return to school. We moved to Chicago as my dad signed a new 18 month contract for construction work on an upscale high rise remodel. 

            Telling Mrs. Stills that we were moving again was more challenging that I ever anticipated. 

            “But what will I do without the daughter I always wanted? I am glad your dad has another job lined up, but life will never be as entertaining as when you are here. I adore you. I am exited for you and what this life has to offer. Boy oh boy. I can’t wait for the day to get a call from you telling me about some swanky big shot job you you have. The sky is the limit. You will be missed. But boy oh boy, am I exited for you.”

            The tears I shed after my final shift the day before we left, could have watered Mrs. Stills front yard for an entire summer. So many hugs and so few words were exchanged. I vowed to never return as I felt I would be opening a fresh wound of regret for ever leaving such an amazing small town such as Stills.

            Dad and I quickly settled into our new apartment in Chicago and he was excited for this new challenge. I became bored quickly with two menial jobs and decided to start college courses after the New Year. I tested well and passed exams for the 1st two full years of classes within the first three months. I enjoyed college classes at my own pace and learned that a business degree was on my horizon. Business? Did I want to go into business? 

            I finished all of my undergraduate and graduate classes within two years total. At just 21, I had a masters in business formation and reorganization. I started working for a firm that was hired by large companies when they needed help and a fresh set of eyes. Someone to come in and teach them how to redeem profitability and increase growth without mergers or acquisitions being a part of short term and long term plans. I loved what I was hired to do and excelled. 

            I exchanged frequent emails with Mrs. Stills and we spoke monthly about what I was doing and what I was experiencing in Chicago. She laughed and reminded me that if I ever needed a job, there was always one waiting for me back in Stills. Dad’s job turned into a permanent placement as construction foreman and he seemed to enjoy Chicago as much as I did. When I moved out and purchased my own apartment, he just smiled and said, “Look at my girl fly.”

            As the years passed, memories of days gone by became a bit more fuzzy. Dad always asked about Mrs Stills. When the call came from her explaining that she wasn’t feeling well and she had gone to the doctor, she was then diagnosed with Stage IV Breast Cancer and was told that chemo, radiation and surgery were all possible, but even with pursuing the greatest medical interventions, she was given a survival timeline of 12-18 months tops. 

            My heart hurt for her. My heart hurt for Mr. Stills. My heart just hurt.

            While we stayed in touch during those final months, nothing prepared me for the call that came late one evening from Mr. Stills. Mrs. Stills, the love of his life, had passed peacefully that afternoon. We cried together on the phone and I thanked him time and again for calling. He told me that information would follow about the memorial service. No formal funeral as Mrs. Stills wouldn’t like that. Just a brief memorial and luncheon would be planned. I told him I would be there, no matter what. Even knowing how difficult it would be to go back to the only town where I found joy in as a teenager. 

            I was expecting to find out about the memorial and luncheon from Mr. Stills, not by receiving a letter from Mr. Barkley at Stills, Stills & Barkley. I emailed him promptly and stated that yes, I would attend the memorial, the luncheon and would be happy to meet with him after. I also requested that a room at the Inn be reserved for me. His assistant was happy to receive my response and she promptly booked me a room. She also said that I didn’t need to pay for anything as all accommodations have been taken care of.  I thought that was odd, but thanked her for her help. Was everyone’s accommodations being taken care of, or just mine? 

            Traveling to Stills, I knew to allow many more hours than necessary as the roads may may slippery because of the newly fallen snow. I left at 6 a.m. instead of 7:30 a.m. from Chicago and was pleased that most roads were clear until I got off the freeway about 20 miles from Stills. Those 20 miles I drove to Stills brought back so many great memories, I found myself wiping away one stray tear after another. 

            It was so good to see Mr. Stills and so many other people from town. I was received so warmly, I started crying before the memorial even began. The service was beautiful and was a true celebration of life. A God-Honoring Home Going Service to remember. My heart was full as each of the people selected to share warm memories of Mrs. Stills stood at the podium with a microphone. 

            The luncheon was so delicious and I enjoyed visiting with quite a few of the people that I had worked with all those years ago at Barkley Coffee Shop and gone to school with. Mr. Stills insisted I sit with him during the luncheon and told me more than once that he was so touched that I had returned to honor his wife in her passing. 

            “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I owe my confidence, my knowledge and much of my success to your wife. She was the mom I needed. She knew she was and never missed a moment to love me and encourage me. I am forever thankful for all she did for me.” I wiped a few tears as I expressed my gratitude. 

            Saying goodbye to a number of people I had visited with throughout the day, I nodded at Mr. Barkley as he entered the back room of the Barkley Coffee Shop. I joined him and looked around as if expecting other people, but it was just us.

            “Mrs. Stills loved you very much. You were the daughter she always wanted. This box is for you.” Mr. Barkley stood and walked to the other side of the room and retrieved a large box with a lid.

            “Thank you.” I said and paused. “Am I supposed to open this” I asked. 

            “Yes. I will leave you to it. Let me know if you have any questions.” Mr. Barkley said as he exited.

            I opened the box and found a letter, on top of something wrapped in tissue paper. Opening the letter quickly, I found the beautiful handwriting of Mrs. Stills.

            My sweetest girl-

            Thank you for being you. You are the daughter I always dreamed of and prayed for. Thank you for never breaking contact with me all these years even after moving to Chicago. Your kindness has always warmed my heart. You are an amazing woman and it has been a privilege having you in my life. Please accept the contents of this box as my gift to you. I had always wanted to save money for retirement. Retirement was something that I never got to enjoy. Cancer is a beast and it has cut my life way too short. Don’t wait until retirement. Take the trip you’ve always wanted to go on. Put a down payment on a house in the country. Buy a new car. Give this money freely to a cause you wish to support. Do whatever you wish. Just do it joyfully. Do it knowing I love you. I always have sweet girl. Thank you. I will be watching over you and your dad too. I promise.

Much love and adoration, 

Mrs. Stills

P.S. Don’t argue about the contents of this box. Consider it your final Barkley Coffee Shop tip.

——-            

             I couldn’t catch my breath for a few minutes and was so glad that Mr. Barkley hadn’t returned. I removed the tissues from my purse and blew my nose and wiped my eyes. Reminding myself to take deep breaths, I stood as I prepared to untangle the tissue paper mound found in the large box on the table. 

            Money. It was a stack of $100 bills. Stack after stacks after stacks. I could hardly believe my eyes. Why cash? Oh. My final tip from Barkley Coffee Shop. Mrs. Stills was always so intentional and clever. 

            Mr. Barkley returned to me as I closed the lid of the large and heavy box on the table. “Will you be needing  any assistance getting to the Inn?”

            “No, no. I am fine. Thank you Mr. Barkley. Thank you for coordinating this for me. I appreciate you and the guidance you have given to Mr. and Mrs. Stills over the years.” I stated. 

            At the Inn that night, I took a closer look at the contents of the box. $50,000. 50. I was in shock. 

            I returned home to Chicago the next day, but stopped as I was leaving town. I wanted to take one last picture before I left my favorite small town of Stills. 

Please visit Kelli on her blog: https://kellijgavin.blogspot.com/2025/12/stills-short-story-for-writers-unite.html

Images are free use—Image by Wolfgang-1958 from Pixabay.