CHAPTER 31

Routine

Working at the coffee shop, life was the complete opposite of the way things had been. Almost every day she’d wake up and have somewhere to be. It was hard work, and she hated standing all day, but she found such comfort in the certainty of it. John was at work, and she was at work. It was easier to explain to herself. If I meet someone and they say, “What do you do?” I can say, “I’m working at a café and working on a novel.” Or I don’t have to mention the novel at all.

Originally John hadn’t thought it was a good idea.

“What about being a writer?” he said.

“I’m hardly writing now, John.”

“I just feel terrible that you’re having to do this.” He shook his head and looked so sorrowful. She touched his elbow.

“I bet I’ll write more if I get out a bit,” she said.

“Will you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, but she wasn’t sure it was true.

The coffee shop was only one stop away on the bus, so she didn’t have to worry about walking through sketchy neighborhoods or too long of a commute. On the bus she’d listen to music, and life almost felt like it had when she was a student. It’s all like it used to be, just like that, she thought, and she’d turn up the music in her headphones.

At work she’d smile a lot at customers and say, “How are you doing?” and “Have a great one.” The interactions were small but precious in the wake of the vast isolation she’d been feeling. She did burn herself quite a few times and one burn scarred on her wrist. She’d used the emergency burn kit and everything, but it still scarred. She’d notice it while showering or putting on bracelets but rarely at any other time.

There was a boy named Allen who worked at the coffee shop. He had a tattoo of a cross on the back of his neck and he wore hipster glasses and had thick, dark hair. His fingernails were a bit too long, but this was really the only thing she found to be unattractive about him. He was very nice to her her first few weeks and on occasion she thought he was almost flirting.

“Cinnamon, yum,” he’d said.

But when he learned that she had a boyfriend he stopped flirting, and this made her respect him even more. He was still nice, though, and they got along well. They were almost-friends in the superficial way you could be with someone of the opposite gender. They ate lunch together and Allen would do fake British accents throughout the day. John was jealous, but Leda didn’t care.

“I don’t think you should have a guy friend that you’re, like, seeing all the time and everything,” he said.

“Yeah well, I don’t see him all the time. We never talk after work.” And it was true. The starkness in contrast of her life at work to her life at home became palpable. On occasion she and John would be out at dinner or out for drinks, and she would be so caught up in thinking about what had happened at work that she would hardly talk. John’s life was something that seemed different from her own, as if he lived in this grown-up world of stock options and 9:00 a.m. meetings. Very often she’d have to remind herself that she wasn’t just working at a coffee shop like any twentysomething-year-old. Very often she’d have to remind herself that she and John were actually supposed to be living the same life.

Allen told her he’d been working at the coffee shop for the last three years. He’d explained to her that he’d moved to San Francisco on kind of a whim and that his real ambition was to work in tech but that he didn’t have the skill set.

“Couldn’t you take classes?” she’d asked him once when they were on break.

Allen nodded as he thoughtfully chewed an Oreo.

“That’s what I’m planning, or actually, what’s even better is my buddy has this really well-funded start-up and he said he could teach me some CSS, and I could work for him.”

“Wow, that would be amazing.”

“Yeah, I feel good about it.”

“When do you think you’d be able to quit working here?”

“Probably over the next few months.”

“That’s too soon!”

“Sorry, but I have places to go,” he said, and pretended to smoke a cigarette. “This is an electric cigarette, by the way, because I’m fancy.”

She laughed and took one of his Oreos.

There were three other people she shared shifts with besides Allen. There was her manager, Tina, a large girl who wore bright lipstick and generally kept to herself. Leda didn’t mind working for her, as she was fair and didn’t expect too much from anyone. “I know this isn’t your dream job,” she’d say loudly anytime someone complained, “but as Tim Gunn says, ‘Make it work.’ ” On a rare occasion she would even let the baristas go home an hour early with pay. Leda liked to imagine that Tina was someone who had a lot in her life besides the coffee shop, and that was why she always kept to herself, and that was why she was so nice to everyone. She liked to imagine that she was happy.

Besides Tina and Allen, there was a girl named Callie who was living in the city with her best friend and was taking summer classes at art school. Callie was super skinny with a very elegantly placed nose ring. She had sort of a long, aloof way of talking. Leda never did find out much about her. Whenever she asked her a question or tried to make small talk, Callie would take an enormous pause and then respond with a one- or two-word answer that made it virtually impossible for the conversation to continue. The best example of this is:

LEDA: Hey, Callie.

CALLIE:…Hey.

LEDA: How was your weekend?

CALLIE:…Good.

LEDA: Did you do anything fun?

CALLIE:…Yeah. I did.

The other person was a boy named Zeke. Zeke was from an island off the coast of Portugal. He was studying full-time at Berkeley and working his way through school. He had a cold, quiet demeanor. Leda didn’t really talk to him much because Allen hated him.

“Zeke is an asshole,” Allen said after she first met him. “Don’t bother talking to him.”

“Why?” she said.

“It’s a long story, but basically I just really hate the kid,” Allen said as he steamed milk. “He’s an asshole.”

A great many things happened in the time that Allen and she worked together at the café. She was hit on by a millionaire tech tycoon, an old woman accused her of being a “slobbery mess,” and she and Allen made up a song called “Waffles and Espresso Will Get to You.” But the defining moment between them would happen on a Friday when he missed his shift.

That morning as Leda got to work only Tina was there.

“Have you heard from Allen?” Tina asked.

“No,” Leda said. “Did he call in sick?”

Tina shook her head in the kind of pensive way she often did. “I’ll call Zeke and see if he can come in.”

It turned out lucky that Zeke could come in because the day ended up being considerably busy. It was hot out and everyone wanted iced drinks. By the afternoon Tina gave them an extra break.

“Why don’t you two go sit down and rest for a few,” she said. “Things seem to be slowing out here finally.”

Leda looked at Zeke, who met her stare with the same cold expression he always bore. They walked to the little back patio at the rear door by the Dumpster. Zeke took out a cigarette, and Leda sat on one of the three stools that were out there.

“You don’t smoke, right?” he said as he went to put the pack back in his breast pocket.

“No,” she said.

He nodded but then paused. “You don’t mind if I do, though?”

She was taken aback by his courtesy. “No, I don’t mind,” she said.

The two were quiet for a minute. Leda hadn’t ever really taken the time to look closely at Zeke. Most of the time she was too busy working or goofing off with Allen to notice much about him. He was actually more handsome than she’d thought of him. He had high cheekbones and big eyes.

“Don’t you want to sit?” she asked him.

“No, if I sit I won’t be able to get back up. I’m super tired.”

“Late night?”

“Finals. That’s why I’m super pissed I had to come in today.”

“Yeah, that must suck. I’m surprised Allen didn’t show up.”

“Why?”

“’Cause he’s usually always here,” she said.

Zeke scoffed and tossed his cigarette. “I know he’s your buddy or whatever, but you shouldn’t trust Allen.”

Leda didn’t answer.

“I’m not trying to offend you or whatever, but Allen is the kind of person who isn’t doing anything with his life. He’s been here for eight years. Did he tell you that?”

She shook her head.

“Yeah, he dropped out of school and moved here when he was twenty. He’s not like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re not gonna be here forever. You’re not messed up like Allen. I mean, he has problems. You just shouldn’t really trust him is all.”

“I think he said his buddy has a start-up that he’s gonna go work for in a few months.”

Zeke smiled and waved his hand dismissively, “Nah, that’s something he’s said for years. It’s not true. He lies a lot.”

“Well, I don’t know, maybe he’s just going through a rough time. There’s nothing wrong with working in a coffee shop, anyway. I mean, look at us, all of us, look at Tina.” She said “Tina” but she was thinking of herself.

“There’s nothing wrong with working in a coffee shop. My parents run a grocery mart. That’s what they do for a living. I don’t have a problem with it. But that’s not the situation with Allen. He’s not like the rest of us. He’s just a messed-up person who isn’t serious. I know he’s funny and fun to be around or whatever, but you should just be careful.”

“He’s always been nice to me,” Leda said. She didn’t feel it was right not to defend him.

Zeke shrugged. “I’m not trying to convince you of anything. I just know how things are with him, and you should know about it so you don’t waste your time.”

She didn’t know what to say in response.

“Come on,” he said. “We should go back now. It’s been a while.”

The next time Leda saw Allen at work everything was the same. He was goofing off and telling jokes. He didn’t mention not showing up the other day or being sick. But as the day wore on Leda couldn’t get what Zeke said out of her mind. She felt guarded with Allen in a way she never had before. Everything he did or said she thought about with a certain level of scrutiny that was logically unwarranted.

“I think I might go to Yosemite this weekend,” he said.

“Oh, that’s cool,” she said.

“Yeah, I like going alone and just getting lost somewhere. I always go off the main paths and try to get away from it all. It keeps you grounded and centered, you know?”

“Sure,” she said. You sound like a total fucking idiot. You’ll probably get eaten by a mountain lion and the poor mountain lion will end up getting shot by the police because you’re such a fucking idiot.

In the weeks that followed, Zeke’s warning persisted. She tried to forget about it. She missed the free and fun times. She missed singing “Waffles and Espresso Will Get to You.” But it was impossible. Now she noticed so many inconsistencies in Allen’s character that she had never seen before. He was late almost every shift. He missed shifts regularly and never called in. If he made someone the wrong drink and realized it, he’d still try to pass it off on them without them noticing. In an odd way she started to hate him for all these little things, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop being his friend. Instead she just let things get slowly distant enough where she could maintain the lightheartedness without letting herself be invested. She and Zeke became closer too. He had a car and often offered her a ride home. At first she hid her friendship with Zeke from Allen, but in time she didn’t care and was open about it. Allen didn’t seem as bothered by it as she would have thought. It was strange how things could mold and change and she was a part of it, and yet at the same time just a witness to it all. As if her life at work were some organically living thing that she huddled in the lungs of, rising and falling with its breath but unable to alter its rhythm. She’d explain it like this:

“In the end I really wasn’t friends with either of them. Sure, Zeke and I got closer, and I respected him immensely, but we just weren’t the type of people to really be friends. We didn’t get along like that. Zeke was right about Allen, though. I found out soon after I’d quit that he’d been stealing money from the cash register. Tina fired him, but to her credit she kept the whole thing hush-hush, which probably saved him some considerable jail time. I’m not sure where he is now, but I know he left California. Anyway, it didn’t really matter. I quit the job and that was that. I didn’t really think about those people anymore. It almost feels like it never happened. I was grateful then, though. It got me out of the house and it kept me sane.”