Me: Would you rather ride in a yacht, or camp on the yawn?
Profile 421: camp
I bleep out a chuckle, as that was too easy.
Me: Yogurt or Yams
Profile 421: Chocolate
Me: That isn’t an option.
Profile 421: Chocolate is always an option.
Me: I got you to slip!!!! There’s a y in always!!!!!
The screen flashes, and a message pops up.
You have successfully completed your chat. Do you vote to continue with this person?
Blinking, I come out of my trance. Somehow, I advanced a level. It’s like a video game. I press, yes, and wait. It appears she’s gone offline. Surprisingly a sting drops into my stomach as I feel a touch of disappointment. It’s okay, though. I’m overtired, and I roll over on my stomach to sleep.Only I don’t sleep. Oddly, I smile and ponder all the Y words I should have used.
The next day, I’m feeling a little better. Yet, I know from experience to take it easy and not jump back into activity. After resting all day, I’m going stir crazy and decide to drive over to pick El up from her closing shift at the Coffee Loft. Pretending I need to grab a deposit bag, I go inside. I don’t have a deposit to make, unless we’re talking about a bag to put my pride in. Even the bank bag is too big for the minuscule amount of pride I have left.
El walks behind the counter to shut off the espresso machines. I stroll through the lobby, turning off the lights. When I reach the front of the store, I lock the door and inspect the street outside. People are everywhere, driving and walking to all the surrounding stores. Nobody is headed my way.
This place must be invisible.
Rubbing my eyes, hoping to bring some much-needed clarity, I turn back to find El handing me a coffee in a to-go cup. “What’s this?” I take the cup while keeping my elbow straight, eyeing the cup from a full arm’s length away.
“It’s the almond milk, decaf, latte, but I swapped out your usual mocha for the sugar-free cinnamon dolce latte with an extra pump.”
“Why would you swap out the sugar?” My voice screeches in horror.Sugar is the best part!
“Your mood, Christian. It’s out of control.” She wags her finger at my cup. “Less judgment. Just try it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my mood. It’s how I am. Coffee goes in, sarcasm comes out.”
“The sarcasm is fine.” Tilting her head toward me, she drops her voice as if someone might accidentally overhear, even though the place is empty. “It’s that thing you do with your face.”
I steel my jaw, resisting the urge to fight. My fingers are aflutter, but I raise my cup to my mouth and tip it back. Smooth. Surprisingly it’s the perfect blend of sweet and cinnamon spice on the tip of my tongue, with a rich coffee aftertaste.So good.I take an extra swallow because I don’t want the taste to stop. When I come up for air, El has her sus glint in her eye again. “What?”
“Somebody was here on behalf of the Chamber of Commerce, selling tickets to a fundraising dinner. I bought us tickets.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?” Her blinks fire off in rapid succession. “You have no customers, and you are invited to a business social event. You’re desperate. So, you go.”
“That sounds like the kind of thing you like to attend.” I swipe my hand through my hair, not caring that it didn’t even tame my front spike. “You can go.”
“I can go.” She affirmed with a curt nod. “But so can you. It’s your business that’s failing.”
“Thanks for the encouragement." When she doesn’t defend her stupid dinner again, I know the glint was aboutthat other thing. It’s clearly the glint of doom, confirmed by her flashing a look at her smart watch. “We need to run along. It’s getting late, and Portia might be going to bed soon.” She retrieves another cup from the counter, one with a to-go sticker over the drink hole. “For Portia.”
“I’m not giving her free coffee,” I mutter, staring at the cup as if it will bite me. “Perhaps I need to explain what running a business is about. You SELL things to make money. If you give away more than you sell, you go broke.”
She pushes the cup closer until almost touching my stomach. I take a step of rejection back. “I need to go to the bank.”
“Youneedto bring her a gift, too.” She floats the drink closer to me, brushing it against my arm, like a giant delicious fly. “Remember, she gets her job back, too.”
