I folded the filter – it was way too big – into a cone and stuck it in the top of the pot. Then I threw several heaping spoonfuls of coffee into the cone and poured the hot water over it until the water reached the top of the cone, and waited as it slowly dripped down.
‘What are you doing?’ I turned to see Gabe watching me.
‘Making coffee. Can you watch this? I have to check on a table.’ I told him what to do when the coffee got low, then ran-walked back out to the casual dining room.
I tried my best not to look like I was stressing out – but I was. How the hell was it possible that my entire college career was riding on Nataliehidingcoffeepots so I was forced to make some artisan pour-over bullshit?
The judge was laughing and telling a story as I approached. Her eyes dropped to my empty hands, and her smile waned.
When I reached the table, I smiled brightly. ‘I just wanted to check in and let you know coffee is coming right up. I had to make a fresh batch for you, but it shouldn’t be much longer.’
Her smile returned. ‘That sounds wonderful, thank you!’
‘Of course! Has anyone changed their mind about dessert?’ Maybe that was the test. But they all said no. ‘Okay, I’ll be right back.’ Then I sped to the kitchen as naturally as possible.
Thankfully, Gabe was still helping me with the pour-over. ‘Thank you.’
‘Since when do we do this?’
I glared at Emma G. as she scrubbed the coffee drum. ‘Since Emma G. dumped all the coffee before the last table left.’
‘Dude, there are pots of coffee out there, or there were when I checked. I don’t know what to tell you.’
I took out the filter and threw it into the trash. As soon as I did, I realized it might not be enough. What if it didn’t fill all four of their cups? The pot was only half full – no, screw that, this was a half-empty situation.
And what if they asked for seconds?
Then I’d make more. But for now, I went out and poured the coffee, starting with the judge. The coffee was darker than usual. I started panicking. What if it was too strong? Shit, what if it gave one of them heart palpitations? I should have used the decaf just to be safe.
‘Anything else I can get you this evening?’ I asked, probably a little too loudly and anxiously.
The judge didn’t answer. Instead, she put the coffee cup to her lips, took a sip …
And flinched.
My stomach dropped.
Sweat beaded at the nape of my neck. It was too strong. Too bitter.
But then her eyebrows popped up, and her smile returned. She looked at me. ‘Thomas, this is a great cup of coffee.’ She turned to the other women. ‘Try it, don’t you think it’s better than they usually make?’
The other ladies sipped their coffee and gave me plenty of compliments, asking if they’d changed the brand. I told them it was probably just because it was right out of the machine.
‘Well,’ the judge said, ‘we’ll have to make sure we ask for a fresh pot every night.’ They all laughed, and I laughed with them because if I didn’t laugh, I would probably cry. Now they had something new to ask for. Baked Alaska 2.0.
I went to the rear service station and turned on the warmer, then placed the pot back on it. There was enough for one, maybe two cups. I’d check on them later and refill as many as I could before they were empty. Hopefully if theywatchedthe coffeepot empty, they wouldn’t ask for more.
Before I could get too comfortable, Natalie rounded the corner. Two full coffeepots in her hands. She gave me the same surprised expression that I gave her.
‘Where did you get those?’ I asked, motioning to the coffeepots.
‘The warmer. Where is that pot from?’ She seemed to be genuinely asking, as if she was surprised.
She didn’t need to hearhowI’d accomplished her task, especially since I didn’t do it entirely correctly. ‘Judge Fredericks wanted some coffee, so I narrowly caught Emma G. before she dumped it. The other service stations were empty.’
She dropped off the decaf on the other burner, turning it on and putting her free hand to her cheek. ‘Oh, sorry. I was going around but got distracted talking to Mrs Murphy at the host stand. Marjorie Flanagan passed, apparently, and she’s a little distraught, poor thing. But I talked to Judge Fredericks on the way back.’
‘Oh?’
