-
Someone, somewhere, once said choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.
Well, that's just capitalist propaganda – no matter how much you think you love something, it'll still feel like work if the day's long enough.
One grand big brother scheme or not, I did really like working at the coffee shop.
Sometimes when I think about it, I laugh. When I was growing up, my biggest dream was to build houses like my father.
Truth be told, I wanted to walk and talk like him too.
But I guess some dreams aren't meant to come through.
Maybe things would be easier if life came with instructions or at least a pencil and eraser, maybe if my mistakes didn't feel like tattoos written across my skin for all to see.
I surely didn't choose the coffee shop but I like to think that the shop and the family that came with it choose me.
They must have because Sam gave me a reason to face everything life threw at me without so much as a résumé. The coffee shop was the first place I actually felt wanted much less needed.
So I give it my all, I open and close the shop, rain or snow, it doesn't matter – I like having the responsibility, I like having a job.
Then Alice walked in and liking my job had a whole new meaning to it.
-
"It's almost 2:30, where's your mystery girl?" Leo mumbles as he tosses a hard glare towards me before turning his attention back to adding a creamy foam design to a cup of coffee.
Leo may spend more time being an ass than anything else but he does make the best cup of coffee I've ever had.
The day after we had our fight about Alice, Leo shoved a Ziploc bag of homemade banana nut muffins into my chest and I threw him a replacement shirt for the one I tore.
It always seemed to work like that between us, poorly mumbled words concealed as apologies didn't make or break our friendship.
"She'll be here, don't worry about it." I turn away from the entrance, half-listening to Leo but spending more time concentrating on the bell that dinged whenever somebody walked in.
"And, she's not such a mystery anymore."
It had been a couple weeks since we meet at the park and Alice and I had become good friends.
Well, as good as two strangers can be between sips of coffee and turning book pages.
Immediately Leo's head snaps up to me, a traitorous smirk spreading so wide it engulfs his whole face as his moss-green eyes light with trouble.
'That's my guy, hump them and dump them, fuc-"
"Leo! Leo! Would you shut the hell up? It's not like that." I shout, agitated by his every word.
"It's so much more than that."
Leo as oblivious as ever opens his mouth to speak, the smirk still lingering against his lips.
"Cut it out, I haven't slept with her, far from it."
Instantly the smirk slips away from his lips and is replaced by his infamous scowl. I grin because an irritated Leo makes a smug Johnny.
I wasn't fazed by what Leo expected, he thinks the way to make it unscathed in life is to keep everything that could be something as a quick and un-attached good time.
I know he believes that if something (or someone) doesn't become your everything, it doesn't hurt if you lose it (or them).
It's a pity he doesn't know all loss hurts, big or small.
"The way you talk about this girl...I mean, do you really think wham bam, she's the one?" He asks, his brows shooting up in wonder.
I sigh and think about his words, really think about what he's asking me.
I've been asking myself the same question.
I'm confused, really.
I've never been the feelings guy. The guy who saw a girl and felt a connection.
"I don't know, to be honest. I just know that when I see her, I feel an ease I've never felt before, bro."
Leo nods, his eyes so focused it's as if he can read the words as I say them.
Without notice, but like clockwork, all the same, the bell rings in the distance.
In walks my Mystic, as beautiful as the sunrise, blue skies and all the stars that shine, Alice Carter.
All the dots and lines connect and in a room full of people, I can only see her.
"Yeah Leo, she's the one."
-
"What's your thing with Black coffee?" I place the coffee cup in front of her before sliding into the booth.
I manage to sit directly in front of her, and somehow no matter how many times I see her, I still can't believe how beautiful she is.
"I don't have to take your order, ever. It's always bitter black coffee, no cream, no sugar, no mil-."
She holds up a finger, signalling that I should wait a minute as she flips the page of her book.
After a minute or two, she shuts the book, shaking her head slowly as her vibrant brown eyes raise up to meet mine.
"Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys, I can never put this book down no matter how many times I've read it."
She grins, her smile so contagious, it forces me to smile with her and for a while, I'm just smiling at her and she's just smiling at me.
Soon she laughs so softly, it's almost like a breath as she pulls the coffee towards her.
She brings the cup to the tip of her rose-red lips, slowly sipping the bitter drink before placing the cup back onto the table, turning it around and around in her hands, her eyes trained on me.
"Well Johnny, I like my coffee, the way I like my men, hot and black. I guess that's why I like you too."
There's a few quiet seconds where my mouth hangs agape and her lips stretch into a smirk so teasing, I can feel my Adam's apple bob along my throat.
When my reaction seems to reach the ultimate level of her satisfaction, she breaks out into a laugh so loud and free she manages to catch the attention of the customers seated around her.
I try hard not to laugh at a joke at my expense, but the beauty in her laughter and the curious stares of nearby customers are enough to push me over the edge.
Now we're both laughing so loud, the sound bounces against the wall and seems to echo throughout the shop.
Eventually, our laughter dies but our smiles remain while she continues to sip her coffee.
She looks through the window, her fingers tapping wildly on the table before turning back to me. She releases a sigh so heavy it could have contained all the world's problems.
"Black coffee, it's real and straightforward. It reminds me of how bitter the world can be, too often I forget."
Alice's smile begins to disappear, as slow as a sleepless night. "Black coffee is a dose of reality."
Right before me, Alice's demeanour shifts from the animated and dazzling auburn-beauty I came to admire to a troubled woman who's been through hell and back and is still trying to get the scorching flames off.
"Did you know that your eyes are windows to the world?" I find myself asking.
Alice's eyes crinkle at the sides and her lips pull into a thin line, she shakes her head but leans forward to hear what I have to say.
"Your eyes, they see everything reality has to offer, the good, the bad and everything in between. Sometimes, you just have to close your eyes to the bad, so you can only see the good."
She leans back in her seat, staring at me with flames still dancing in her eyes before she begins to nod. "Maybe that's true but I've always been too curious, I need to see and know everything and I guess that's my Achilles' heel."
"Curiosity may have killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back, I don't think wanting to be in the know is a bad thing..." I lean forward, placing my hand on top of hers, gently patting my hand against the back of her hers.
It's meant to comfort her but I somehow get the feeling it does more for me than it will ever do for her. In fact, I'm surprised when she smiles tenderly before lacing her fingers through mine - giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
-
Between making coffee and serving tables, Sam and I had both found our way to Alice's table.
Sam's charm was on full display as he names Alice his favourite customer and declares that she never has to pay for coffee as long as she keeps laughing as loud and as honest as she does.
"Thank you sir, between you and Johnny, I'll never leave. " She beams up at Sam before glancing to a clock on the wall.
As the hand ticks and the time hits 7 pm, she picks up her book and slips out from the booth.
She turns to Sam and then to me. "Johnny, I'm going home, I'll see you both-"
"Can I walk you home?" It's too hard to say goodbye and I want to hang onto every possible minute I can steal away from her.
She grins, the sadness from before gone like the wind, lost in the vacuum of space.
"I'm going against all the rules of the Single Female Living in New York handbook but please, do. I trust that if you do murder me, you'll at least have the decency not to stain my carpet." She yells with a snort.
"Hey! I wouldn't dare, it would be too hard to get rid of all the evidence anyway." I say through my chuckles.
As we leave Sam's, our laughter intertwines with the wind and the voices of New York and I start to think, maybe there are some dreams made to come through.