Faith Daniels looked up as the tiny bell over the door tinkled quietly. He was the first customer of the morning, the darkness remaining outside as he walked in and closed the door.
“Good morning,” she acknowledged him as he looked past her and above her at the menu of coffees, teas, and other beverages.
He gave her a hint of a smile to indicate he wasn’t trying to ignore her. She waited, not wanting to pester him. He’d come to a conclusion soon enough. They always did. The customers who couldn’t choose were almost always friendly, outgoing, bubbly even. He wasn’t one of them. She’d seen that kind of look before but wasn’t sure if she could place where or when. When it dawned on her, she blushed in spite of herself. She’d seen it multiple times looking in the mirror.
She busied herself with the pastries, putting the remaining selections in the case.
“Uh, I’ll take a double espresso and one of those,” he said finally, pointing to an éclair.
“Cream or whipped cream?” she asked quietly.
“Oh. Yeah. A little cream, please.”
She began to fix the espresso and put the éclair on a plate. “Have a seat, and I’ll bring it right out to you, sir.”
He smiled slightly—surprised a bit by the “sir”, she supposed. He sat at a faraway table for two at the other end of the shop, folded his hands on the table and stared out the window into the dark, rainy morning.
When the coffee was ready, she took it, the éclair, a fork and some extra cream to his table.
“Thank you,” he said, finally looking directly at her. “What do I owe ya?”
“Four dollars and 50 cents,” she said quietly. “But you can pay on the way out if you like.”
Instead, he pulled out his wallet from a hip pocket of his faded Levis and handed her $6.00. “It smells good,” he said gratefully.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Anything else I can get you?” she added quietly.
“I wish,” he said almost inaudibly, then smiled up at her again. “I’m fine.”
Faith walked away reluctantly. It wouldn’t be long and the rush would hit. Marnie would be in for her shift in about 15 minutes. Jackie would be along in a half hour. The day would be underway, busy for a few hours, then a calm, then charge up again during the lunch hours at which time Reb would arrive. Another day at the office, she mused.
When she got back behind the counter, she glanced back at the man, surprised to see him looking at her. Another blush occurred as a result of his brief attention. She couldn’t remember blushing in years. Not even once, let alone twice. Crazy. She began the morning inventory, re-stocked some coffee beans, and went to the kitchen to check on the pastry supply, bringing out another éclair to replace the one she’d sold. When she’d tallied the orders she needed to place, the faithful early customers began arriving just as Marnie walked out of the back room ready to make and serve all kinds of coffees and teas and miscellaneous other beverages for those who liked to indulge in specialty drinks to get their days started or enhance their days with flavorful treats.
“Hi, Faith. How’re you this morning?” she asked cheerfully.
“Hangin’ in there, Marnie. How ‘bout you?” she responded, trying to muster some enthusiasm.
“Not too tired this morning, for a change. I went to bed at 8 o’clock. Can you believe that?”
“For me, yes. For you, no.” Faith smiled at the young woman, knowing Marnie’s social life was usually full of boyfriends and girlfriends and all the activities that accompanied that youthful lifestyle.
“Hi, Faith, Marnie. The usual, please.”
“Mr. Johnson,” Faith greeted the man who was usually the first customer.
Marnie went right to work on his triple mocha with whipped cream.
John Johnson glanced around the shop. “I can’t believe I’m not the first customer,” he said half to himself.
Marnie looked around as a result of his comment. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t even see him.” Then she lowered her voice. “Who’s that, Faith? You know him?”
“No. First timer, I think.”
“Kinda handsome for an older guy, huh?” she whispered.
Faith rolled her eyes. “Everyone’s ‘older’ compared to you,” Faith teased the 21 year old.
Marnie giggled at that and then took care of Mr. Johnson.
“See you ladies tomorrow then,” he said pleasantly as he headed for the door after leaving Marnie a generous tip.
“Thank you, Mr. Johnson. Have a great day,” Marnie said happily.
“See ya tomorrow, John,” Faith added.
As John Johnson was leaving, several people filed in and business was clearly on its way for the day. Jackie joined Marnie from the back room and began taking orders and making the customers’ requests. During the course of the next 25 minutes, the man who’d come into the shop first this morning, made his way to the door. Faith happened to look up as he put his hand on the door knob and looked over at her, his eyes almost smiling but not quite and hers doing the same. Then he was gone, and she felt a tinge of sadness, the continual emptiness that dominated her life rising up in her like a concrete wall, nearly impenetrable in its size and fortitude. Oh well.
Taken from Wounds . . . And Healings (2005; written by Nicole Petrino-Salter)