Confessions From A Coffee Shop (12 page)

“Sure. What?” I still kept my arms crossed.

“Do you want to have lunch tomorrow and then catch a game?” Dad looked nervous as hell, almost as if he were asking a girl on a date.

I pushed aside my suspicions and his weird behavior. My father had me at “catch a game.”

“Of course! You know you never have to ask. I’m always here if you need anything.”

His eyes glistened a little. I didn’t know what to say.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at eleven.” He turned abruptly and waddled out of the store.

Harold immediately stopped sweeping the floor and came back behind the counter. “He seems nice.”

He had only swept one-fifth of the store, confirming my suspicion that Harold had been eavesdropping.

I was too puzzled by my dad’s appearance to care. When the excitement of an invitation to the game started to wear off, I wondered whether my parents really were heading for a divorce. Even though I was almost thirty, the thought scared the crap out of me. They weren’t the most lovey-dovey couple I knew, but they were my parents. A unit.

I groaned as another customer came in. Not feeling overly cheerful, I managed to be semi-friendly while I took his order. The man didn’t notice. He was too busy pounding away on his cell phone to notice anything going on around him. Suits, man. So self-involved.

After making the suit’s drink, Harold announced, “Time for me to go and get ready for the date.”

I glanced at the clock. It was only four. “What time are we meeting again?”

“Eight.”

“Does it usually take you four hours to get ready?” I teased him.

Harold blushed. “No, Miss Smarty-Pants. Kat is meeting me‌—‌to help.”

“Kat’s helping you? You should have started hours ago. That woman likes to preen.” I patted Harold on the back, glad to see a sparkle in his normally vacant eyes. “See ya later, dater.”

He waved foolishly and scurried out the door. I hoped Kat would go easy on the poor guy. I pictured her tweezing his unibrow, applying makeup, and gelling his hair. Then a thought hit me: I bet she buys him a new outfit. Correction, I bet
I’m
buying him a new outfit. At least it would be for a good cause, I told myself, trying to control my panic over Kat spending a fortune. Jesus, I couldn’t catch a fucking break.

A stream of customers flooded the store, so I didn’t have time to ponder the situation. Harold’s relief arrived several minutes later, and then the two of us never stopped working, thankfully. Since I had befriended Harold, the rest of the staff had begun treating me differently. For the most part, I didn’t mind, apart from the annoyance of finding myself still dealing with high school drama at my age. Granted, most of my coworkers were years younger, so I couldn’t get too upset, but did they have to be so damn annoying and condescending? Teenagers were almost as bad as gay men when it came to moodiness and bitchiness.

Seven p.m. arrived, and I shot out the door like Usain Bolt. Kat texted me to meet them at Clammy’s, and I had plenty of time to walk to the waterfront restaurant.

“Cori!” came a voice from behind me.

I turned to see who in the heck was shouting my name. I didn’t really mingle with many people in the Financial District. To be honest, I was never really popular, not even when I was a super jock. And when my writing career crashed and burned, the few friends I had slowly disappeared. Thank God for Kat and my family.

Samantha waved her arms excitedly in the air so I couldn’t miss her even if I was trying to. Walking back in her direction, I did my best to mask my glee at seeing her again.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” She breathed heavily, and I averted my eyes from her heaving chest.

“Clammy’s. I’m meeting Kat and Harold.” I mumbled Harold’s name and immediately felt guilty about it. Was I as bad as my Beantown coworkers? I offered more. “Kat set Harold up on a blind date tonight, and we’re making it a double date. He’s a little nervous, so they’re already at the restaurant. Poor guy thinks he’ll be stood up. He has convinced himself that if he shows up early it will somehow help his cause.”

Samantha giggled. “Oh, that sounds like Harold. Can I join you? In the event he is stood up, I’ll be his date for the night. And if she shows, I’ll leave.” A mischievous look crossed her face. “I may have to hide in the background and keep an eye on things, though.”

I was touched that she had offered to be Harold’s backup date. “Sure! I was going to walk there, but we can take a cab if you prefer.” The T didn’t have a stop near there, and there was no way in hell I was going to suggest we catch a bus.

“Let’s walk. Who knows how much longer we’ll be able to enjoy this nice weather? I can’t believe it’s almost October.” She linked her arm through mine. I noticed I didn’t feel a frisson of excitement. It just felt friendly‌—‌on my side, at least. I was starting to wonder if Sam had a crush on me; that wouldn’t be good. I’m horrible at hurting people’s feelings, and my girlfriend would not be pleased if I led Samantha on.

Nervous that Sam might have a crush, I chattered away to hide my embarrassment. “Kat spent the afternoon fixing Harold up. I’m curious to see how he turned out.”
And how much she spent,
I thought, but I kept that to myself.

“If I had known, I would have taken the afternoon off to help. I’ve always liked Harold. No offence, but the other workers in your shop are hideous snobs.”

My esteem for Sam skyrocketed. “I know! And they work in Beantown Café, for Christ’s sake.” The words bubbled out of me before I could stop them.

“They’re snottier than my coworkers‌—‌and most of them manage millions of dollars.” Samantha either didn’t notice my blunder or decided to help me through it. As I got to know her more, I was inclined to think she just didn’t notice. Being friends with two people who worked at Beantown didn’t seem to bother her, even if she was super successful.

“When you two aren’t working, I won’t leave a tip. A year ago, I learned all of you split the tips, so I started slipping Harold a buck each time he hands me my coffee.” Sam’s eyes beamed at her way of beating the system. “I can’t stand how they treat him. He acts like it doesn’t bother him, but it has to. I don’t know many grown men who would enjoy being called Harry Pooper, even if they are huge Potter fans.” Sam’s crinkled face showed her contempt for my colleagues.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think Harold has a way of getting even.”

Sam eyed me curiously, so I explained about the doctor’s note. “Hopefully, Harold knows he’s better than the rest of them. He’s the only one I get along with, actually. Thank God I don’t work there a lot.”

“I ran into Kat recently, and she mentioned that you do her father’s dental billing. How do you like that?” Samantha faced forward, her eyes focused on something across the street.

I couldn’t discern what was commanding her complete attention. Was she staring at the gigantic Hood Milk bottle, which is actually a snack shop, in front of the Children’s Museum?

I wondered if Kat had “accidentally” bumped into Sam. Actually, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she had. As a way to suss out her competition, it was both cute and frustrating.

“I wasn’t thrilled with the idea when her father proposed it. I guess I felt pushed into it.” I wasn’t sure why I had answered her honestly. “But it’s easy money. I’m actually getting caught up on my bills with the money I make from Beantown, so this will only help. I mean, I can’t quit any of my jobs just yet. That will take some time, but I can breathe a little easier.” Saying this out loud to a friend was a relief. Money trouble was such a burden. It weighed on me all the time.

“Times are tough. My company announced they are laying off five hundred people next week. I’m terrified.” We still walked arm-in-arm and Sam patted my arm with her free hand. “I would be able to last a few months without a job, but not much longer than that.”

The confession shocked the hell out of me. Here I thought Samantha had it made. Now I knew the truth.

“I’m so sorry. When will you know?”

“All next week will be a nightmare. My company has devised this brilliant method of informing people. When entering our building, we have to swipe our ID to get in. Each day, they will deactivate the badges of the employees they are laying off, and someone from HR will be standing by when an employee’s ID doesn’t work to talk to them in a private room downstairs. Next week is going to be hell.”

“Jesus! That sounds barbaric. Is that even legal? It’s not just the fear, what about the embarrassment?” I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. I was suddenly relieved to have my jobs; at least they felt secure. All of a sudden, I appreciated Beantown Café and dental billing.

“Oh, I’m sure they ran it by legal. The bastards!” For the first time, I heard venom in her voice. Then her body language softened. “But let’s not talk about it. It’s Friday, and Harold has a date. Let’s focus on the good. Hey, I’m going to the Sox game tomorrow if you want to join me. I have an extra ticket.”

Damn my father and his surprise visit. “Thanks, but my father invited me earlier today.” I hoped my voice didn’t register my disappointment at not going with her.

“Great! We can meet there.”

“Well, we aren’t sitting in a box. He has season tickets in the bleachers.” During one of her visits to the coffee shop, Sam mentioned her company had box seats at Fenway.

“Same here. Not me, but my uncle. He hardly ever goes now, and I usually go several times a year. Our whole family, I mean aunts, uncles, cousins, second-cousins‌—‌we all fight over who can go and when.”

“How do you think our chances are this year? Will we win the series?” Both of us slowed our pace, eager to continue the conversation.

Excitement returned to Sam’s face. Kat didn’t get sports, or why people become such fanatic supporters, but here’s what I got about sports:

(a) Sports bring people together.

(b) When life is tough, a person still has their team.

(c) They always provide distraction from what’s going on in life. [I know this sounds a lot like B, but it isn’t completely, so I’m sticking with it.]

(d) Teams always give people something to talk about with another fan. It’s an instant bond that only fans can possess. Red Sox fans rarely discuss the weather when there’s a lull in the conversation.

“I have my fingers crossed. At least this season is better than last. They were dreadful last year, just dreadful.” The color drained from her face.

The restaurant was in sight, and Samantha pulled on my arm to get me to stop walking.

“Before we go in, I have something to say.”

I wasn’t sure where she was going, and I was a little unnerved. Was she going to confess she liked me?

“Sure. What’s up?” I said in a voice filled with dread.

“My cousin is a dentist, and he’s looking for someone to do his billing. Would you be interested?”

Relief flooded through me. I thought for sure she had been going to say, “Hey, you know I like you, right? Leave Kat, and we’ll be happy together.”

“Really?” How could I say no? It was easy money, and it was awfully sweet of her to ask around for me. Minutes ago she had been talking about her company’s layoffs, and now she was helping me with my money woes. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Cool. I wasn’t sure if you’d be offended.” She handed me her cousin’s card. “Call him on Monday. He’s ready for you to start.”

“Why did you think I would be offended?”

“I know your passion is teaching and writing. I didn’t want you to think I was implying you should give it up. I can’t wait to read your book when you finish it. I’ll be your number one fan. Not in the
Misery,
Kathy Bates, way.” She let out a girlish giggle. “I understand the billing thing is just until you get back on your feet. Who knows, maybe next week I’ll become your partner.”

“What should our company name be?”

“Red Sox Billing, of course.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course. What?” It was Samantha’s turn to look hesitant.

“Don’t tell Kat about the extra billing. I don’t want to ruffle her father’s feathers, and I would hate to put her in a position to lie. Phineas supplied me with the billing software, and I’m sure if he found out, he would charge me to use it or take it all back.”

Understanding gleamed in her eyes. “Your secret is safe with me. Now, let’s go check out Harold.” She waltzed ahead of me, as excited as a child on Christmas morning.

We strolled into Clammy’s. Although I had been there many times, I always stopped to take in the bric-a-brac on the walls. I had heard that all the junk adorning the walls‌—‌ship wheels, barrels, buoys, and half-naked mermaid statues‌—‌came from ships or flotsam washed up on the shoreline. I’m not sure I believed it, but the odds and ends added to the ambience, at least. The outside resembled a clam shack; inside was anything but. Located on the Fort Point Channel, the restaurant was next to a marina, and it was still nice enough outside to dine alfresco on the patio. As usual, the place was packed. It was typically a hotspot for tourists, so I wondered why Kat had chosen it for Harold’s date. Wouldn’t it be better for Harold to meet someone in a café bookshop, like Neptune’s on Newbury?

We located them in the back, on the patio side. It wasn’t that hard to spot them, since Harold leaped out of his seat and waved his hands over his head to get our attention. One look at Harold made me realize Kat was serious about his makeover. His floppy, bowl-cut hairdo was gone. In its place he sported short hair that Kat had teased at the front to make it stand up a little. She had remained true to his nerdy side, so the haircut suited him. So did his clothes: dark blue jeans with a lightweight black sweater‌—‌not a mock turtleneck, thank goodness. It looked soft. Cashmere soft. It was a V-neck and he wore a white undershirt. I wanted to peek under the table to see if he was wearing white socks with his dark jeans. I groaned, hoping Samantha didn’t hear it.

A wrapped gift sat on the table in front of Harold. Kat laughed and tilted her head towards it. I waved at them, noticing daggers shoot from Kat’s eyes when she saw that I wasn’t alone. It took some effort to make our way through the crowd, most of which congregated around the TV that hung above the bar. The Sox game was on. September always brought with it anxiety over the playoffs. Sox fans were hungry for another pennant but were cautious not to get their hopes up.