I took the canister from her.
June pressed a button on an electric kettle then took the extra mug I had left on the counter, intending to make a cup for her, too. She poured a green powder from another jar into it and side-eyed me as I put two teaspoons of the ground root that didn’t smell like coffee at all into my mug.
She poured boiling water over her powder then poured some on mine. Facing me, she took up her mug and drank. Her gaze seemed to both challenge me and await my reaction to the fake coffee.
I had to stop inhaling the smell before taking a sip. It was bitter and disgusting.
“I’ll get coffee later,” I said, pouring the brown water into the sink.
June’s lips hovered over her mug as she looked at me through the vapor that rose from it. “You’re not giving it a chance.”
“I did. Having coffee in the morning is a basic human right. And it’s better for humanity that people have their dose of caffeine.” I forced on a smile. “I’ll get coffee later.”
“There’s no Starbucks in Riviera View.”
“I didn’t grow up on Starbucks in Italy.”
We glowered at each other until June bit her upper lip and moved with her cup toward her bedroom.
“What do you give your guests?” I called after her. Without caffeine in my blood, it was easy to annoy the fuck out of me, and she certainly did.
“Whatever I have in the house. There are great supplements for everything. You don’t have to sacrifice taste. You can use chicory for coffee, carob for chocolate, and date molasses for sweetener.”
Is there an off switch on that?
“So, no guests, huh?” I muttered.
I couldn’t see her because of the accordion screen, but from the sound of it, she sat on her bed and was putting on her shoes.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“Yes, thanks.” When I finally fell asleep …
“I have to be at my Wayford branch today.” Her voice came from behind the divider, but then I heard her approaching. “Will you be okay here?” She walked out from behind it. “You probably have work to do, too, right?”
“I’ll set things up downstairs and maybe say hi to Rio if I see her.” Maybe it was the lack of caffeine, but I wanted to annoy her.
“I’d prefer you don’t. I’ll introduce you when I’m back. Is your work very noisy?”
“If you consider music noisy,” I blurted.
She chewed on her lips from the inside.
“I’ll keep it down,” I said.
June sidestepped me and put her half-finished mug in the sink. She then began filling a large glass jug with tap water. Looking at the coastal-style wall clock, she put the jug down. “I have to run out now to beat traffic. Would you mind watering my plants for me?” She hurried to the front door.
“Sure. They’re allowed water straight from the tap? Just like that?” Yep, I definitely needed caffeine.
I could see her swallowing a snark. “There are four and, with everything going on, I forgot to do it yesterday, so thank you. If you need anything or aren’t sure about something, please call me.” Grabbing her phone, keys, and that canvas bag, she opened the door and added, “In fact, I prefer you call me as many times as needed rather than do things you’re unsure of.”
“Sure.” I faked a smile.
Her lips opened as if she was about to add something but, probably thinking the better of it, she stepped out. “Okay. Bye then.”
“Arrivederci,” I replied in a I-can’t-wait-to-never-see-your-face-again tone when she was already out.
I took out ingredients from “my shelf” in her fridge and, as if to defy the woman who wasn’t even here to witness it, I made myself a killer gluten-filled, cream-rich, cholesterol-abundant, fried breakfast and ate it on her kitchen table. Sweet pastries I had gotten from a bakery called Breading Dreams gave the finishing touch.
