Two days. Two Cafes. Two cups of coffee. And two different conversations, overheard because two girls were talking too loud or just not caring if someone else heard what they had to say.
I have a favorite place to sit and drink coffee when I’m in town. The coffee is strong and the cups are heavy, they fill your hands. Refills are free.
I like a booth, in the back, where I can lean against the window and watch the world. I stopped by one afternoon. I needed the coffee and a place to sit and think.
Across from me, a dining table. Typical, maroon surface, chromed edge and four metal chairs. One person sat there.
She was a tall girl, attractive, wearing glasses, long blond hair. Maybe a college student, maybe in graduate school or a new graduate, working at her first real job. She wore a dress. Unusual in today’s world.
I smiled at her. I’m from the South, that’s what we do.
Something was wrong.
She looked like her world had come crashing down on top of everything she knew.
Her eyes were red, she dropped a tear and wiped it away from her cheek. She pushed her hair back behind her ear.
Maybe it happened about an hour earlier. Not much longer than that, I’m sure. Her phone was on the table. She picked it up, then put it down. She picked it up again and looked down at it for the longest time.
The plate in front of her had a half-eaten sandwich. It’s the South, she had a glass of sweet tea on the side. She didn’t touch it.
Then, she looked long and hard at the phone once again. She tapped the face of the phone one time. Then another and put the phone to her ear. Speed dialing a number.
“I need to tell you something!” her voice was loud enough for me to hear, even though I didn’t care to listen. “It’s over. O-V-E-R. Like, we’re at the end of the road. There is no going back. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want you to talk to me.” She paused. Listening, I assumed. A minute or two clicked by. “Never!”
She sat there, but she was gone, looking away, far away, past the window, outside, across the street, beyond the horizon. Her mind was in another world. She was crying. I hid behind my coffee. I didn’t want to think about what I was thinking.
“No, that’s not going to work! Yes, we had some good times. No, I don’t need some time. Yes, you are….never mind. I’ve got to go. This is hard for me too. No, don’t call. Please.” And she put the phone down and picked up a paper napkin. She buried her face and sobbed.
I finished my coffee, tipped an invisible waitress and left. Another’s heartbreak is not something I care to witness.
The next day. At a fast food restaurant, paper plates, plastic knives, spoons and forks. Cheap food and senior citizen coffee for me. I find another booth next to another window. In the booth behind me, another young lady. I never saw her face, just the back of her head. She was on the phone as I sat down.
“The ring is so pretty. I love it. Oh, I’m so happy! I’m sitting here, eating breakfast, thinking about the two of us and how happy I am. I’m just looking at my ring . No, it’s our ring. I can’t wait until you get home. I love you too.”
Two days, two coffees, two lives.
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