The Coffee Shop

I looked at myself in the mirror…at least the charred shell of what I was. The image staring back at me was one I loathed. The pale skin, the wide eyes, the sunken cheeks. When had I become so ugly? The image I had in my mind showed those same eyes sparkling, that skin radiating a golden brown, those cheeks glowing rosy red. Where had that person gone? I missed her. I sighed from deep within my soul and turned away from the mirror. It was best I let that person go. She was long gone.

I glanced tiredly at the stack of books adorning the dresser, waiting expectantly to be opened. The clock on the bed side stand glowed a scarlet 1:54…in the morning. At least three hours of homework awaited me inside those books. Three hours I just didn’t have. I sank onto the edge of the bed, fingering the teal satin comforter. I just wanted to crawl beneath that comforter, pull it over my head, and stay that way forever. What had happened to me?

Was it really that long ago that I had been up at 1:54 in the morning talking and laughing with my girlfriends, sharing cold pizza and cans of Coke on the floor of my dorm room? It had only been a few months, and yet I felt like I had aged years in that time. Mom was right. Enjoy life when you’re young because once responsibility hits….

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­ ______________________



“What’s the matter? Can’t keep up?”

I peered through sweat soaked bangs at Kyle’s lopsided grin.

“Whatever! You know I can keep up with anything you do!” I threw back.

Kyle laughed as I caught up to him, breathing hard. My lungs felt about ready to burst. I leaned over, hands laced behind my head, as I gasped for air.

“Really now?” he taunted.

I slugged him in the stomach. He doubled over, clutching his side in a mock gesture of pain. “Really now,” I repeated. I straightened and swept my bangs back from my sticky forehead.

“Think you can take another lap then?”

I reached for my water bottle and took a long swig. “Naw, you go ahead. I’ve toned up enough for one day.”

“Keeping up with anything I do, huh?” he ribbed.

“Well if you were in good a shape as me, you wouldn’t have to do another lap.”

Kyle busted up laughing, and I joined him. Both of us knew he’d outrun me in a marathon any day, but we were always going back and forth. He turned away from me to check the time, and I allowed my eyes to wander. I admired the way his sweaty t shirt clung to his muscular back and arms. I wished I had that body.

“Well,” he turned back to me, “Its after three. I guess we both better be getting back if we’re going to make it to the church dinner tonight.”

“Oh that’s right,” I smacked my forehead. “I totally forgot about that! And just look at me!” I pulled my sticky t shirt away from my sweat soaked body.

“Whatsa matter?” Kyle grinned, “You look as good as you always do.”

I glared at him. “That was so not a compliment.” I grabbed my water bottle and turned down the path towards the parking lot. “Well guess what?” I threw over my shoulder, “so do you.”

I could hear Kyle laughing all the way to the truck.

_________________________

The clock glowed 1:58 am. Why had that scene come to my mind? I dragged myself off the edge of the bed and to the kitchen for another Mountain Dew. If I was ever gonna get any work done tonight, I’d need a little encouragement. Kyle. Not something that came to mind everyday. In fact, it had been quite a while since any thoughts of him had passed through my already cluttered brain. That’s probably why. I kept my mind full. Full and occupied…so I had no chance to dwell on the past. The long lost past. I sighed again and flopped down on the bed. The tab on the can made a pop then a swish. Ah, caffeine. I let it burn my throat. Now to get to that Geometry homework.

­ _________________________



He couldn’t feel his left leg. Why couldn’t he feel his left leg? He tried to reach for it to make sure it was still there. Pain like fire shot up his arm and burned across his neck. He fell back, gasping for air. Maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t feel it. At least there was no pain that way. Darkness pressed heavily around him, crushing him, stealing the precious little air from his already collapsing lungs. He wanted to fight it, to push it away, but his arms wouldn’t cooperate. He couldn’t even lift his head. There was just no strength. His voice, maybe he could find someone else to help him. He tried to cry out, but his voice rebelled as well. His throat felt as though someone had packed it with cotton. He tried to swallow, but all he sucked in was dry air. There was no relief. His only sense was of pain…and cold. Extreme, numbing cold. He wondered if that was what was preventing him from feeling his leg. He had to move. He could freeze to death. He had to keep moving, keep the blood flowing somehow. He struggled but the searing pain forced him back. He felt his body relax, his limbs limp against the hard surface beneath him. He lay still for several seconds, allowing his muscles to rest. He was strong, had always been. He would try again, and this time he would make his body comply. Time blurred in a haze of pain. He felt his eyelids begin to droop. No, he had to stay awake. It was the only way he would survive. He had to beat the pain and the cold. He had to win. But he was so tired. His eyelids began to sag. He was so very tired. His body stilled, and his mind began to wander.

________________________



The coffee shop was crowded, unusually so for a Tuesday morning. Usually at ten on a Tuesday morning, you could find me perched on one of the high stools at the bar, engrossed in the latest best seller from the book rack just off to the right. It was my mind’s only reprieve from the whirling cloud of numbers and facts that school presented me. At least at work, at least on slow days, I could let my mind check out. But this Tuesday morning was different. The tiny shop was buzzing with chatter. It swirled around me like a whirlwind—girlfriends huddled over a cup of espresso and a slice of cinnamon spice cake, lovers breathing in mint mocha and each other, businessmen gulping down scalding black coffee on their way to a meeting or some other important engagement. All the activity was making me slightly sick to the stomach. I kneaded the headache growing at the base of my skull with one hand as I filled a gentleman’s cup with vanilla latte.

“Miss, could I have extra whipped cream with that?” The gentleman indicated the steaming mug in my hand.

I nodded wearily. Looking up at the tinkle of the bell over the door, I noted the entrance of yet another college couple, hands entwined, faces aglow with the cold and something else I couldn’t quite bring myself to say. So many people rushing here and there down different paths of life, and this coffee shop the crossing for them all. I guessed the cold had driven many of them in. An early December snow biting at one’s nose could drive anyone to look for warmer temperatures. Or were they looking for something else? Solitude maybe? Well they wouldn’t find that here today. A caring smile? I had no energy to give that. Inspiration? How much inspiration could one find in a double expresso with extra whipped cream? Ok, so maybe a lot. Many of my English papers had their humble beginning in just that. I smiled to myself and handed the latte to the gentleman. He laid down a five dollar bill, thanked me, and rushed out. I supposed that meant I could keep the change. I shrugged and deposited it in the cash drawer.

That’s when I saw him. Far in the back corner, facing the counter, collar turned up as if shielding himself from all the hustle and bustle about him. He didn’t even know I was watching him, he was so engrossed in the novel he held. Something about him intrigued me. Maybe it was his posture, straight backed yet leaning forward in anticipation. Maybe it was the look on his face, so eager yet so intense. Maybe it was just that he was yet another single male in this establishment with finely sculpted features. Was I really so shallow? He shifted in his chair and without warning, looked up from the book. Our eyes met. I turned away quickly, feeling the warmth of embarrassment flooding my face. I hid behind the cappuccino machine and busied myself with making a cup for some make believe patron.

When I looked up again, he was standing right there. I was frozen to the spot. I felt my mouth drop open and a flush begin to creep up my neck. I forced my mouth shut but stayed where I was. Had I moved at all, I was sure I would’ve have dropped the scalding cappuccino in my hands. His eyes were a deep midnight blue. They were piercing somehow and very intense. I liked intense. His face was bronzed naturally and that brought out the glowing white of his perfectly straight teeth. His cheek bones were high and defined attractively. His nose was prominent and straight. He was just all around good looking. I managed to stop myself before I let out the dreamy sigh I had building up in my chest. “Um…um…” I stammered, growing redder by the second. “Can I help you?” It came out harsher than I meant for it to, but speaking around the lump in my throat…

He smiled, a drawing, heartwarming smile. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but could I have a refill?” He slid his cup across the counter.

“Uh..yeah..I mean yes, of course.” I averted my eyes nervously. Wow, I was really making a mess of this. I turned to the machines behind me, then suddenly realized I didn’t know what he had been drinking. I turned back and opened my mouth to ask. He saved me the trouble.

“Double espresso, vanilla, with extra whipped cream,” he paused, “I need the extra caffeine.” He winked at me.

I thought I was gonna die, right there on the floor between the espresso and cappuccino machines. I was just gonna die and go to heaven. Or maybe I was already there.

“It’s busy in here today,” I heard him comment from behind me as I refilled his drink.

“Mmhmm,” I managed.

“Is it always this busy?”

I topped off the cup with steaming liquid and reached for the whipped cream. “Not always. Usually on Tuesdays it’s a lot slower than this…and a lot quieter.” I pressed the lid back on the cup and handed it to him. “Be careful it’s hot.”

“Thank you,” he smiled and handed me some carefully folded bills. “It does seem a bit noisy. I’ve never been this way before, but I was looking for some place where I could find some solitude and inspiration and ______________________ sounded like the place to find just that; but I guess I was wrong.”

I loved the way his eyes twinkled like the punctuation to every sentence. I found my voice again. “Well like I said, Tuesday mornings are usually not this bad. I guess the weather is just driving more people in than usual.”

He held up his hand, “Oh don’t get me wrong, I think this stop was just what I needed…just not exactly for the solitude part of things.” He laughed, rich and deep. A baritone. He had to be.

“Well I’m glad.” How intelligent, I scolded myself.

He straddled one of the stools at the bar and glanced around the shop. “Well I think things may be slowing down a bit. Would you mind if I sat here and chatted a while?”

Would I mind, I thought to myself. I’d do anything at all to hear that beautiful voice of yours. Never mind I was acting like a 12 year old. “Not at all, go ahead.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to distract you from working…”

“Nonsense. I can do two things at once.” You are quite a distraction, but a welcome one.

“Well I guess I should introduce myself.” He shot me that disarming smile again. “The name’s Lance.” He held out his hand.

“I’m Lynnette.” I took his hand, very away of the softness and smoothness of it. “Pleased to meet you, Lance…is it just Lance?”

“For now it is. I just got off work, and am quite tired of all the titles that cover up who I really am.

Ah, a deep thinker. I glanced down at the book he held in his other hand, and for the first time realized it wasn’t the intriguing novel I had fantasized it to be. It was a book of medical terms and procedures. I glanced back up. “Where do you work?”

He laughed at my puzzled expression. “I’m a doctor.”