Page 50 of Christmas Coffee

Celyn

Nova has been in her car, talking with her hands for over twenty minutes, although it feels like hours. This phone call could mean I keep my place at Bardenbey. My fate lies in her hands. The reason I passed it off to her was simple, I’m good at sales, but not at begging. I couldn’t figure another way around it, and since the owner of the rental company is a guy and Nova is a girl, well, she’ll have some more moves than me. If I cried to get something, I’d be laughed at indefinitely. If she cries, well—who knows? Even with all sexist shit aside, there’ve been no tears, just a few sharp laughs and her hands flying as she speaks. It dawns on me that she must be on speakerphone. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. It’s been too long and I’m dying to know what’s going on. There’s no line, probably because of the gray storm clouds that threaten to bury the Island.

I quietly walk up behind her car, intentionally walking over in her blind spot so she doesn’t see me. I don’t want to spook her, but I wonder if I can hear anything. As I get closer, I pick up pieces of the conversation.

Nova sounds poised and confident. You’d have no idea she was so young. It sounds like she’s negotiating. She tips her head to the side and glares at the phone. “Come on, Greg, you can do better than that. It’s Christmas, for Chrissakes.”

“Right, it’s Christmas and you’re asking me to cancel a contract. I can’t do it, Nova. Think about what it does to me and mine. There’s a reason why we make these policies and—”

“I know exactly what you’re talking about and it’s the bottom line. And I’m not asking for a favor like that. I don’t renege on my word, written or not.”

“So, what do you want?”

“Refund the money from the third carafe and take it back, and for helping me out, we’ll give you something you want.”

“I want money and uncancelled contracts.”

I cringe. There’s no way she’s going to get that tightwad to cancel the contract. She keeps steering the conversation the right way, but then Greg snaps it back to money. She’s not going to change his mind.

“Cancel out this contract and write me a new one. Increase the rental period three months and throw in a cappuccino machine.”

Greg chokes on laughter. “Are you insane? You’re asking me to refund your current contract, which is only a few weeks so you can what, default later—and give you a cappuccino machine?”

“The thing is,” she starts sweetly, “I know my boss likes you and when he expands next year, he’ll want to work with people who watch his back.”

“Expand? How,” he laughs in his deep voice, “gonna do an add-on to your tiny metal shed?”

“You’re a funny guy, but no. Here’s what’s going to happen.” Nova spells it out and doesn’t finish until she’s laid it all out. Holy shit, she has balls.

I back away from her car and stop when I notice the mess in the backseat. Nova continues talking, but I’m no longer listening. At first I think it’s shopping bags, but it’s not. It’s a lot of clothing and a hairbrush stuffed into the back-seat pocket. A towel is laid over the passenger chair, dangling down in back, matted in the middle like it’s wet. Nova’s car was spotless when I first met her. I stand there, wondering what I’m looking at. People don’t suddenly become slobs. Why is her car filled with clothes?

I hear her squeal from inside the vehicle and stomp her feet against the floorboards before she kicks the door open and jumps out. She’s grinning ear to ear. When she turns and sees me, she shrieks and yelps, before slapping her hand to her heart. “Celyn. What are you doing there?”

I step closer to her, unable to hide the horror creeping through me. Those clothes, the rumpled pile, the towel that’s worn and damp. That shouldn’t be there. None of it should. I go to open my mouth but I can’t say it. She’d be humiliated if it were true. My god, has she been sleeping in her car? Nova is homeless? I’m such a fucking asshole. How did I miss it?

Her voice trembles slightly. “Celyn?” Her gaze flicks to her car and back to me.

Make something up you stupid shit. I scold myself and try to think fast but it’s like my mental wheels have rusted solid. “Nova,” her name wraps around my lips softly and I force myself to smile at her while steeling myself so the emotions I feel aren’t plastered across my face. “Sorry, I was looking at your car and…” her voice chimes inside my mind, that plea to never lie to her. I hesitate. I can’t lie, but I can’t tell her I know. We stare at each other in a silence that stretches on and on.

She blushes and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, tucking it under the fuzzy hat. “So, you heard that last part? Just say it, you wanted to hear me work my magic.”

Thank God, she offered a way out. I nod like an idiot. “Yeah, so what happened? I caught the end of it.”

“He will have a check for you later today, and he switched you to a monthly payment plan, and issued you a line of credit which will help with cash flow in January. He said you had to renew then anyway. I guess you were going month to month.” She’s looking into my eyes and doesn’t sense it, doesn’t see it. She doesn’t know the Hottie Hut will close on December 31st. She doesn’t know her job will be gone. She doesn’t know any of it.

Her eyes are locked on mine and a hesitant smile creeps across her face. She steps closer to me and goes up on her tippy toes and plants a kiss on my cheek. I stiffen. What the hell was that for? I look down at her, my eyes wide.

Nova resumes her regular height and shrugs. “Stop worrying, Celyn. You’ll win your bet.”

I stand there, mute, and horrified while I watch her walk back toward the hut. She’s been sleeping outside in this freezing cold weather, alone. Every day she walks in with a smile on her face like nothing is wrong. She’s telling me not to worry. Holy shit. My chest feels like it’s torn open. The floodgates in my heart crack under the duress, under the absolute astonishment I feel toward her. No, it’s more than that. She’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met, every breath is filled with passion and life, but she’s not jaded. How is that possible? Why doesn’t she hate me? I don’t understand why she’s still here, why she wants me to succeed. She could have taken the money I offered and walked. Doing this, she risks losing her last paycheck, and if she’s homeless, she fucking needs it. How could she pick me over her own basic needs? Last night while I was warm in my bed, she was shivering outside. It guts me because I would have never known. Her smile is genuinely happy, and when it’s blasted in my direction I can’t see past it.

That blue skirt swishes at her thighs as she walks. When she stops in front of the door, she turns back and looks at me with those blonde braids framing her face. “Are you coming, Kelvin? We have work to do.”

I frown instantly and get hurtled from my thoughts. “Celyn. It’s Celyn.”

She laughs lightly. “Right boss, come on.”