Coffee
Zirah
Friday, September 25th
I woke up early. Way too early. I tossed and turned for a while before I gave up and got out of bed. I threw on a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt and went for a run. Running wasn’t high on my list of favorite things to do but if I ever wanted a chance to be a professional musician, I needed to stay in shape.
Fresh from the shower, I was getting dressed when someone knocked on the door. It was early still, almost eight. I hurried to the door and looked through the peephole. Joey stood there with a cup of coffee and a paper bag. Curious, I opened the door.
“Hi. I’m sorry it’s so early. Glad I didn’t wake you. I won’t keep you, but I wanted to drop these off.”
She handed me a bag and I peered in. It was full of clothes and I backed up inside. “Come on in. How did you know?”
“Dennis said you didn’t have a lot of clothes. Most of these are from before I had Owen so they should fit you. I can’t seem to drop that last five or six pounds no matter how hard I try. Anyway, they’re clean and in good shape.”
“Wow. Thank you. You didn’t have to do this. Everyone keeps giving me stuff. I’m beginning to feel indebted. Like I’ll have to give you all my firstborn or something.” I held up a pair of pants. They looked a little long, but I could hem them or roll them.
She waved away my comment. “When I first met Trina, I gave her clothes too. It’s someone I know, or Goodwill. You’re just helping me clean out my closet. Oh. I brought you a coffee too.” She handed me the cup and a small brown paper lunch bag. “It’s black. Creams and sugar in the bag so you can fix it however you like. I hate to drop and run but I need to go to work. I’m sure I’ll see you soon enough.”
After she left, I poked through the bag until I found a pair of chinos and a pale-green button-up shirt. The pants fit well except for being too long. A quick cuff and they were perfect. I filled in a few scuffed spots on my pair of black flats with a Sharpie and slipped them on. Ready to go but with another hour to kill, I pulled out my violin and practiced until there was another knock at my door.
This time, Dennis stood on the other side, ten minutes early.
He didn’t kiss me or touch me again, keeping his hands stuffed into his pockets. I was a little relieved and a lot disappointed about it, confused idiot that I was. He took me on a little tour of the block, pointing out a few places like the studio where Joey taught dance classes. The coffee shop, Uncommon Grounds, unfortunately turned out to be a bust. They were booked solid for months.
Dennis couldn’t seem to be able to take no for an answer.
“You need to get her in. She’s amazing,” Dennis said, arguing with the owner, a sixtyish man with a shiny bald head and no eyebrows.
I tried not to stare. Did he have alopecia or was this a big-city style I just didn’t understand? Considering the pink zebra print shirt he wore, anything was possible.
“Look, I can’t get your little girlfriend in just because you think she’s amazing,” he said, voice firm but kind.
“She’s not my girlfriend. I just met her yesterday. She played for me and my friends and blew us all away. Just give her a chance.”
Stupid me, it hurt how he made a point in saying I wasn’t his girlfriend. I mean, I wasn’t. But his words took the little bit of a connection I felt with him and stomped it into the ground. Had our kiss yesterday been my imagination? A weird combination of fatigue and overwhelming that had caused me to hallucinate?
Tuning out their conversation, my gaze landed on a piano tucked into the back corner. Would the owner mind if I played? The question lingered on the tip of my tongue, but you only live once. After wandering over to the piano, I slid onto the bench. A little girl sat with her mom at the table next to me. She was decked out in an Elsa costume with a plastic fireman’s hat and yellow rain boots. I smiled at her. Her mom caught me looking and rolled her eyes.
“It was this or the boots and a tutu with no top. I went with the less embarrassing option,” the mom said.
I giggled and asked, “Is Elsa your favorite?”
Wide eyes solemn, she nodded.
“Want me to play ‘Let it Go?’”
“Yes,” she yelled, glancing at her mother a moment later, who gave her the look. “Please?”
Smiling, I began playing. One of my nieces loved all things Disney and I knew most of the big songs by heart. “Let It Go” was one of my favorites. The little girl climbed onto the bench next to me and sang along, her sweet little voice terribly out of tune but adorable and perfect somehow. When I hit the last notes of the song, I realized we had an audience. Among the adults who had stopped to watch and listen, other kids surrounded the piano. A little girl tugged on my sleeve and I scooted over, letting her up on the bench.
“Do you know the Little Mermaid song?” she asked quietly.
“‘Part of Your World?’”
She nodded and I began again.
I called out to the kids, asking them to sing along, and soon I had an accompaniment of a half dozen little voices. I’d no sooner finished one song when they yelled out another request. I played two more songs before I realized I’d probably ruined Dennis’s chance to eat lunch.
My selfishness embarrassed me. “Sorry, guys, I have to go.”
A chorus of nos warmed me to my toes. Elsa’s mom thanked me as I stood, looking for Dennis. I spotted him sitting at the end of the counter eating a sandwich and talking to the owner. They both looked up as I hopped onto the stool next to Dennis.
“I’m so sorry. I got carried away. They kept requesting things. I think I could have been there all day.”
“No need to apologize. That was awesome. You can really sing. You that good with the guitar?” Dennis asked.
“Um. I think I’m better with strings than a piano.”
I wasn’t bragging and I hoped he saw that. I didn’t want him to think badly of me. How much I wanted that scared me a little. Or maybe a lot.
“Roger and I came up with something while we were watching you play. He gets a lot of moms in here on weekdays, late morning. On a trial basis, he’s agreed to pay you to come in and play every Wednesday morning for the kids.”
Excitement shone in the bald man’s eyes. “I’ll bill it as a Mommy and Me day. If they’re occupied, mom’s more likely to stay a little longer, get a second drink, and maybe a bite to eat.”
I nodded. It made sense.
“Until we see how it does, I can’t offer you more much more than minimum wage, but you can put out a tip jar and I’ll make sure you get some time at least one weekend a month, if you want it.”
“Yes. Oh, my gosh. Thank you so much!” I clapped my hands and bounced in my seat until I realized that I was acting like a twelve-year-old.
Roger grinned. “No, thank you. That was really something to see. A regular Pied Piper.”
Dennis finished his sandwich and he stood. “I need to get to work. Sorry I don’t have more time. But if I’m late, it comes out of my pocket.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine. I don’t think I could eat anyway. Too excited.”
I followed Dennis back outside. On impulse, I grabbed his hand and stopped. When he turned around, I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him. He didn’t hesitate. His arms came up around me and squeezed me gently.
“Thank you,” I said, pulling back.
“You’re welcome.” He grinned and tapped me on the chin. “You heading home?”
I nodded and he took my hand. His large one swallowed mine.
“I gotta ask. How old are you?”
“Twenty-four,” I said with a frown. “Why?”
Dennis shrugged. “You look younger. I’ve got four years on you. So tell me something about you I don’t know.”
I laughed. “Well, that’s a whole lot. Do you want to know something in particular?”
“How about I ask something and answer it too? Then you ask something and so on. That sound good?”
I nodded and he didn’t even pause. “Tell me about your parents. I’m adopted. I know nothing about my birth parents, but my adopted ones are awesome. Helen’s my mom and Will is my dad. They’re both musicians. A little disappointed that I didn’t follow in their footsteps but they’re cooler than some might be with my career choice. They retired a few years back and live in Florida now. I miss them.” He motioned that it was my turn.
I hated that he wanted to know this. I didn’t want to talk about that, but he’d asked, and he’d been so nice … so I told him the truth I’d believed my whole life. “My mom’s name is Sandra. I’ve never met my dad.”
After a beat, he asked, “What does your mom do?”
“Take up space.” It slipped out rather bitterly. “She can’t keep a job. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to leave it at that. Did you go to college?”
“Not really. I took some community college classes while I was apprenticing but school was never my thing. You?”
“No. I had to drop out of high school and get my GED so I could start working.”
He stopped walking. “What? What do you mean you had to?”
“Well, my sister got divorced and she didn’t have a job. Her ex didn’t have a job either and ended up in jail drunk driving, so no child support coming in. I was working a lot. I had three jobs right then and I worked overnights and I kept falling asleep in class so…”
“I’m sorry but that’s fucked up.”
I flushed.
“You shouldn’t have had that on you.” He shook his head. “No one should have that dumped on their shoulders that young.”
We reached the tattoo shop and he pulled me to a stop. Dennis leaned in and kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you real soon.”
I watched him head into Ink’d before starting back to my apartment. Then I set to work making my new place more like home… The way a home should be.