Coffee Klatch

“What can I get you today?” the barista asked as Dora approached the counter. He was cute in a tall, rugged, bearded sort of way.

She cocked her head as she looked up at the menu board and pursed her lips. She was in the mood for something decadent though she knew she should just order chai tea. But what was the point of playing hooky from work if it wasn’t to do something naughty. “I’ll have a tall mocha latte.”

“Whipped cream?” he asked as he pulled a cup from the stack beside him.

“I can never pass it up.” She flashed him her best smile. She could really use a treat and he looked perfectly delicious.

“What’s the name on that?” he asked, a black Sharpie poised for writing.

“Dora.” She accentuated the O and R, once again pursing her lips as if she was blowing him a kiss. He didn’t seem to notice even though he looked her in the face. Maybe that was the problem.

“What else can I get you, Dora?” He was ever attentive in a way most men so rarely were.  

She leaned over, allowing her gold chain to sway a moment as she eyed the confections at the top of the pastry case, one finger pressed to her bottom lip. She was tempted by a chocolate cheesecake square. “That Ecstasy bar looks lonely?” She tapped the glass with a lacquered fingernail. The charms on her namesake bracelet flashed in the artificial light. “What do you think?”

“I just made those this morning.” His eyes never strayed despite all the enticements she offered. “They’re always the first to disappear.”

Well, if she couldn’t have him, she’d just have to settle for something sweet while she waited. Evy was always late. She straightened. “You convinced me. I’ll take it.”

He retrieved the pastry and set a fork beside it on the plate, exchanging it for her credit card. “We’ll call your name when your drink is ready.”

Dora sashayed toward the end of the purple, overstuffed bench lining one wall behind a row of tables, each with a hard-backed chair opposite. The silver linen shirt of her business suit swished against her bare legs as her heels clicked across the faux stone floor. She cast a final coquettish glance over her shoulder. His attention was already fixed on the next customer.

Setting the plate on the table to claim her spot, she retrieved a couple paper napkins and a coffee stir, pausing to study the bulletin board behind the milk and sugar station. Nothing new or interesting there, just another yoga class she might check out. It seemed pilates had fallen out of favor. As she turned away, another barista called her name. She returned to the counter to scoop up her drink then wended her way back to the corner through the scattered tables.

She set her cup beside the plate in front of her, slipped off her shoes and curled her legs beneath her on the velveteen bench. Glorious sun streamed through the windows behind her. Finally, a perfect late spring day. Just a touch too warm to sit outside. That and the patio was way too close to the well-trafficked road anyway. She had no desire to go back to the office smelling like bus diesel, and no desire to shout to be heard. 

Dora cut a bite from her confectionary square with the side of her fork. Luxurious chocolate and creamy cheesecake melted in her mouth. She popped the sipping lid from her mocha latte and swirled it with the coffee stir. She licked the stick afterwards letting the rough, chocolate soaked wood linger in her mouth a moment before she pulled it from between her lips. This was what missing work was all about.

She studied one of the art prints on the café walls. Thomas Cole’s Garden of Eden. It wasn’t quite his Journey of Life series but it still captivated her like so many Hudson River School landscapes. Perhaps because they captured the romantic fantasy of peaceful natural coexistence in a way well beyond her experience. And the humans were so small, almost insignificant. Nothing like her tradition where the people were all larger than life and foremost in the eyes of heaven. More like Evy’s.

Where was she anyway?

Dora slipped the lid back on her mocha latte then dug out her compact. She checked her perfectly coifed French braid in the mirror then touched up her lipstick, a burnt crimson that accentuated her Aegean eyes, auburn hair and alabaster skin. As she snapped the case closed, she decided she should make a quick check of emails so pulled her tablet from her bag. She was still brushing a finger idly through the menus when Evy slumped into the chair across from her.

“Sorry I’m late,” her friend said. She set a plate with a slice of banana-walnut bread on the table then hooked her purse over the back of the blond wood chair. “We had a little timeout in the car on the way to soccer practice.”

Dora dropped her tablet back in her bag. Turning to her friend, she asked, “How are those boys of yours? They must be getting big by now.”

“They're still a handful.” Evy blew the stray strands of dirty blond hair that had wormed their way loose from her ponytail away from her eyes before brushing them back behind an ear. “They’ve hit the sibling rivalry stage with a vengeance. I swear those two will be the death of me. If they don’t kill each other first.”

“I envy you your kids. I don't think I'll ever find the right man.” Dora cast a long look back at the counter. Her barista was coming off shift. He had just removed his apron and was now hugging a petite, Filipino man. They strolled out arm in arm. Well, that explained it. Sigh.

“It's not all it's cracked up to be.” Evy took a sip from her coffee and scowled. “I swear someone put 2% in with the soy milk again. I bet this Italian roast isn’t even fair trade organic. Oh, I’d better get out the phone in case he calls.” She set her cup down and started digging through her purse. “He thinks I'm running errands.”

“He’s still checking up on you?” Dora shook her head. “It’s not right. You should say something.”

“He’s gotten much better.” Evy smiled apologetically as she set a smart phone on the table between them. “You should have seen him before we had to move. He barely let me out of his sight.”

“My ex was the same way.” Dora took another bite of the Ecstasy bar. Heavenly. “Did I ever tell you he wouldn’t let me buy any clothes?”

Evy’s eyes grew wide. “Did he expect you to run around naked?”

“Seemed like it for the first bunch of years.” Dora smiled wickedly.

“My husband was the same way. Like I wasn't going to notice.” Evy rolled her eyes.

“What’s wrong with men, anyway?” Dora’s smile turned sympathetic as she picked up her mocha latte. “I think I should just give up on them.”

“You aren’t missing anything, trust me.” Evy broke off and nibbled a corner of her banana-walnut bread. “You know he still blames me for getting kicked out by his boss. Ever since that thing with the tree in the backyard, he has no curiosity. No drive. He thinks coming up with a name for the dog is a major accomplishment. And he didn’t even care I might have been bitten by a snake.”

“An apple a day, right?” Dora raised an eyebrow, still smiling, her sea blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Did I tell you I caught him texting his old girlfriend, Lilith?” Evy blew across her coffee to cool it. “God love her, but that woman is a demon.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Dora took another sip from her cup. “Everything you’ve said about her reminds me a little bit of me.”

“Oh, no,” Evy protested. “You’re beautiful and gifted. You run your own company.”

“I run someone else’s company,” Dora corrected. “And you’re just as pretty as me.”

Evy didn’t seem to notice. “Lilith’s just a slut.”

“Why do you put up with him?” Dora asked, guiding the subject back to safer waters.

Evy shrugged. “With two kids already, what choice do I have? The boys need a father.”

Dora curled her legs a little tighter as she wondered how her own daughter had fared over the years. One day, she’d have to find out, hopefully before the girl got curious and turned up at her door.

“You know what we need?” Dora sat up. “A day at the spa. Just you and me. Then maybe a little retail therapy.”

“I don’t know,” Evy hedged. “He doesn’t like me going out.”

Dora popped forward to the edge of her seat. “So don’t tell him. Say you’re visiting your sick sister.”

“I’m an only child.” Evy looked away with downcast eyes.

“Me, too.” Dora noted with surprise. “Tell him it’s an aunt or cousin or something.”

“I don’t have any aunts or cousins. The boys say our family tree looks a lot like a telephone pole, not many branches.”

Dora remained upbeat and undeterred. “Then tell him I’m having female problems and you’re taking care of me.”

“He doesn’t like you.” Evy leaned in with a spreading smile.

“Then we won’t have to worry about him dropping by,” Dora noted pleasantly, leaning in, too, until their foreheads almost touched. Both women giggled.

Evy pulled back. Her brow furrowed, creasing her otherwise unblemished milk-cream skin. “He can trace the phone to find out where I am. He’s done it before.”

“We’ll leave it at the house.” Dora countered cheerfully.

“What if he calls?” Evy bit her lower lip. She really does have nice features, Dora thought, though they could use a little embellishment.

“I’ll forward it to mine.” Dora laid a hand on Evy’s arm and smiled. “Stop worrying, hon. This could be fun. We’ll get you a makeover and a new outfit so he won’t have time to even think of Lilith.”

“What’s wrong with this?” Evy spread her hands down her dress. “I just picked it up this weekend.”

“Well,” Dora pursed her lips, and eyed the green leaf print appraisingly, “You’ve got to admit it does make you look a little like a soccer mom.”

“I am a soccer mom.” Evy protested then broke into sudden, unrestrained tears. “I’ll always be a soccer mom.” She hid her face behind her hands.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Dora reached across to rub her arm. “I didn’t mean anything about your new dress. It’s just lovely really. That A-line truly suits you.”

“I’m pregnant again,” Evy blurted through her fingers.

“Oh… I…” Dora stammered, then leaned in and whispered. “Have you told him, yet?”

“I was waiting for the right moment.” Evy wept each word between sharp, shallow breaths. “Then I found those messages. He hates the way I look, I know it. I mean look at me. I still haven’t lost the weight I put on from the boys.”

“Oh, no, hon,” Dora cooed soothingly, “There’s nothing wrong with the way you look.” Nothing a touch of makeup and maybe a workout or two wouldn’t help.

“Really?” Evy sniffled. “You’re not just saying that.” She scrubbed away her tears and brushed the strays away from her eyes again.

“I tell you what,” Dora said, sitting back. “There’s a yoga class starting next week at that women’s only gym around the corner. I’m in the market for a new instructor since mine retired. What do you say we go together? It will be just the thing.”

“What about the baby?” Evy clutched her hands protectively over her belly, her dark honey, doe-like eyes welling with new tears that refused to fall.

“Hon, these yoga girls know all sorts of moves from beginner to advanced, all of them baby safe. A few might even help you get pregnant one more time, if that’s what you really want.” Dora smiled a knowing smile, then fetched out a handkerchief and passed it across the table. At least she didn’t have any mascara to run.

“Here, I bought this for you today.” Dora reached back into her bag and set a pre-wrapped blue box with a gold ribbon before her. “I was saving it for your birthday but why wait?”

“You shouldn’t have.” Evy eyed it with mock suspicious. “What is it?”

“Something I saw and thought of you. Go ahead.” Dora motioned with a hand. “It won’t bite.”

Evy pulled the snug cover from the box and set it aside. A small, lidded urn lay nested in gold tissue paper. She held it up by one of its looped handles. Tiny black figures frolicked around its curved terra cotta sides in a pantomimed shadow-play of a celebratory dance.

“It’s very pretty,” Evy said. “Is it Greek?”

Dora nodded. “Open it. There’s something else inside.”

Evy removed the lid and hooked her pinkie on a silken black cord within. It snaked out as she lifted it. A flat pewter ring dangled at its end, three black words in a careful cursive hand engraved in a circle around its surface: faith, love and hope. The cord was looped through the pendant between faith and love, leaving hope alone and upside down at the bottom, where someone wearing it might read it and find inspiration.

“Oh, Dora, it’s beautiful.” Evy held it out. Sunlight glinted off its polished surface.

“It’s pewter,” Dora said. “I know you can’t wear anything flashy. I hope it’s ok.”

“The inscription reminds me of a verse in 1st Corinthians,” Evy said as she admired it.

“I think that’s by design. At least that’s what the salesgirl told me. But I think they got it wrong. She said love should be at the bottom because it was the greatest of the three but I moved it. Hope is more important.”

“They didn’t get it wrong,” Evy whispered through a different kind of tears. She pushed back her chair and skirted around the table to hug Dora. “Thanks for being my friend.” Her hair smelled nice, a clean, fresh, floral scent though it was probably just her shampoo rather than any expensive perfume. Dora sometimes wished she could capture such simple innocence for herself.

“Oh my gosh, what time is it, anyway?” Evy pulled back and checked her watch then hurriedly gathered up her things and slung her purse over her shoulder. “I’ve got stop at the store before I pick up the boys then get dinner ready.”

Dora smiled at her friend’s resilience. “Think about my offer.”

“I will. We need to do this more often.” Evy hugged her again, quickly this time. “It was good to see you, Pandora.”

“You, too, Eve.” Dora squeezed her back and released her. “Give my love to Adam and the boys.”

Eve paused at the glass door to wave then scampered across the parking lot. As Pandora settled back onto the bench to finish her dessert, she wondered just how different her life might have been had she been born just a little farther east.


© 2013 Edward P. Morgan III