Unsent Messages

37

Saved as draft - 1/25/06

This morning I'm meeting you for coffee. I'm not very nervous, because I have faith that whatever happens is for the best. It will be nice to see you, though. And it'll be very nice to have my favorite caramel mocha cappuccino, sitting at my favorite table, wearing my favorite cable-knit sweater. Adventure is inspiring, but so is nostalgia.

As she pulled open the glass door to the small, cozy coffee shop she used to resort to every weekday afternoon to catch up on homework, the bells of both familiarity and the ornament on the door frame jingled. She was enveloped in a cloud of warmth and the aroma of coffee beans as she popped open the top button of her coat.

She spotted him sitting there, in the table-for-two next to the window. Their favorite after-school spot.

"Hi," he greeted, as soon as he spotted her. He leaped up to pull out her chair, a nervous air about him. She pondered over the possibility of his feelings. What'd changed? Or, maybe, she'd always been too blinded by her infatuation to notice any return of the gesture.

No, she thought. Focus on other things. Now is no time for childish fantasies.

"Hi," she said. He had her coffee waiting on the table, and after a quick thank-you, she sipped the warm liquid, feeling soothed. As she curled her fingers around the cup, he tapped his against his leg.

"How's Paris?" he blurted. "I mean, you said it was amazing in your email, but you didn't give me any details."

She smiled. "I saw the Eiffel Tower, which is actually much bigger in person." She giggled. "And everything there is just so fancy, and. . . and kind of elegant, you know?"

"And the food?"

She finished gulping her coffee. "Absolutely amazing," she supplied, her grin spreading. "I've never had such good desserts in my life! And my mom wins that baking-contest every year at the state fair, so that should tell you something."

"Was it good to see your family again? Your parents, I mean."

She nodded, swirling the stirrer around in her cup. "Things are still the same here. Mom still cooks, dad still watches Jeopardy every night." She shrugged, the corner of her mouth curling upward. "How's your parents?"

He trilled his fingers down the length of his cup. "Better," he said. "My mom's in remission, and my dad's been able to lessen his overtime, so that helps."

"That's really great."

"Yeah."

He asked her about Isabelle, she asked about Leslie, the girlfriend - or ex, that is, because apparently they'd split due to the long-distance once college began - he queried about her college plans, she told him the overview. All the while, she kept thinking about how much easier this was now than it used to be, back when her feelings were fragile and her mind was in disarray. Now, after so much time had passed, so many feelings had changed, and so many attitudes had been altered, things were looser, freer, less strained. Now, they were not Rachel and Anthony, the stars of the Failed Relationship, but they were a boy and a girl, stripped of the past and rocketing toward the future. The unknown, yet not-so-scary, future. When they said goodbye, it was not as an end to the conversation, but an invitation for another.

And things were as they should've been - hopeful and unknown and peaceful. So even as they parted ways, they grew closer still.