Deer and Cricket

Cool, crisp air wiped away the warmth hanging around me the moment I stepped out of the office building. Your Space Interior Design really knew how to keep it’s employees toasty.

It was Friday, and another stressful week at work was finally over, and all of the nettlesome clients would have to wait two and a half glorious days before they could complain to me again.

Sit and Sip was only a few blocks away, and though I hurried, the biting breeze had my cheeks and nose rosy by the time the little golden bell above the door announced my arrival.

The little coffee shop was buzzing with people just getting off work, and a special feeling permeated the space.

“One medium hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and…”. I hummed as I scanned the autumn-themed menu. “Oh, can you add cinnamon on the top, and… um…“. The cashier’s cut eyebrow raised a smidgen up her forehead. “Sorry,” I mumbled after an awkward laugh. “With added Nutella.”

“Is that all?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Two seventy-five.”

It took four tries for the scanner to accept my card, and my face got more rosy the longer the awkward interaction went on.

“Is there a name for the order?”

“Dani.”

“We’ll call you over when your order is ready.”

“Thanks.”

I joined the other bored-looking customers lined up, leaning against the red brick wall.

The din of the cafe bubbled with soft conversation, and employees came around with three-wick pumpkin spice candles which made little golden rings of light on the dark wood tables.

I glanced up from staring into space when the cheery little bell announced the arrival of another customer.

He was tall and willowy, an easy lankiness to his long limbs. Rich cinnamon brown waves framed his pointed features and brushed the nape of his neck. He was wearing a light brown and cream argyle sweater with light jeans. His long legs ended in scuffed black combat boots.

“Two chocolate chip cookies, please,” he said with a charming smile. His voice sounded like warm honey, smooth and even. “And a medium coffee, two creams and two sugars.”

Woah. Deja vu jolted me out of my prolonged stare.

“Can I get a name for that order?”

“Cricket.”

I felt like I had just struggled to the surface of a rough ocean from the last hit of deja vu, and the name “Cricket” reminded me of something.

He strode over to lean against the wall next to me.

I wanted to talk to him, to say something, but my mouth refused to do my bidding.

The stranger glanced over at me with warm brown eyes that reminded me of the coffee served here.

His polite smile faltered for a second, and he blinked a couple of times before pulling out his phone and fidgeting with the dark green case.

Weird.

I’m probably just overthinking it, though. I’m really good at that.

I pulled a worn copy of my favorite book out of my work tote bag, and pulled open to my bookmark. I stuck the crimson autumnal leaf that served as my page marker between my lips and tried to read the first page.

Even Emma couldn’t take my attention from the stranger next to me. I felt his coffee eyes flick over to me occasionally.

“Dani!”

I stored Emma back in my bag, and pushed off the wall. I glanced at the stranger as I passed him, and my heart stumbled momentarily when it looked like he had just been about to say something to me.

Internally grimacing, I acted like I hadn’t seen it and went over to pick up my hot chocolate. The mug was hot and it smelled like heaven. I made my way to the back of the cafe where there was a small bar seat settled in the corner where two windows met. It was my favorite spot.

I spotted the stranger as he trotted over with his two cookies and coffee. He settled into the booth right on the other side of my bar seat. He was sitting facing me, and once again, I noticed his eyes flicking up towards me.

I couldn’t relax, my mind was racing too fast. Have I seen him before? Where? When? What’s with the name Cricket? Should I go talk to him? Is he going to talk to me?

Fifteen long minutes passed before it was really time for me to go home.

I got up to leave and cleaned up my space. I tried not to look at him as I passed his booth.

A gentle hand wrapped around my arm.

“Wait.”

I turned, and the familiar stranger was standing now and dropped his hand back to his side.

“Yes?” I asked, my heart racing.

“You seem really familiar. Have we met before?”

A nervous smile grew across my face. “I had the same thought.”

We both paused for a moment and studied each other’s faces fully.

“I can’t think of it right now, and I have to get going. Call me if you figure it out?” I asked. I was furiously battling a blush and tragically loosing. Heat began to spread across my face.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered. “Sounds great.” My smile grew a little more against my will when I noticed that his cheeks had taken on a pinkish tone.

I always keep a sharpie or a good skin pen on my person at all times. I lose my to-do lists a lot, and it’s really hard to lose your hand, so that’s where I tend to write all my important reminders.

“Here.” I held out my hand, and waited for him to put his in mine. I wrote my number on the back of his hand, and tried to keep my writing legible.

“Dani, right?” he asked when I had finished.

“Yeah. And… Cricket?”

He laughed, setting the butterflies in my rib cage fluttering again.

“Just a joke from years ago. It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime? Over coffee?”

I smiled back at him. “Yeah, maybe.” I held his gaze a moment longer before stepping away.

“I’ve really got to get going. See you later, Cricket.”

He smirked as he walked me out of the cafe.

“See you later, Dani.”

I waved to him as I crossed the street. He didn’t move, and soon he was out of sight around the corner of a building.

I groaned into my hands the second he couldn’t see me. I had crossed the wrong street and was now heading in the opposite direction of home, but I couldn’t go back and pass him again. I would have to explain why I had to come back, which would make me look like flustered idiot with no sense of direction whatsoever.

“Okay, Danielle. The long way home it is.”

The long way home included going around the block and through one of the busiest streets in the neighborhood at this hour, which added on an extra fifteen minutes of my walk time home.

To make things even better, the elevator was broken in my building, so it was an additional six long flights of stairs up to my apartment.

Once I finally made it to the sixth floor, I was huffing as if I had just ran all the way around the island of Manhattan.

Paris squawked when I walked through the door and set my bag down.

“Hey, girl,” I said when she flew over and landed on my shoulder.

Paris was my African grey parrot. She was a gift from my aunt when I graduated high school eight years ago. She had seen me through college, the all-nighters needed to get my bachelors degree in interior design, finding a job, a house, and everything else needed to become a working adult.

“Welcome home,” she chirped. Leftovers from last night were a good enough dinner for me. Cold pizza and day-old salad accompanied me to my couch where I settled in to watch the new season of my favorite show. Paris promptly fell asleep on my lap, and I absently stroked her feathers as the episode wore on.

“Welcome to camp, kids,” the main character said. “Here at Pine View Camp, we play hard, we work hard, and we make memories to last a lifetime.”

Bits of Caesar salad were flung across the room when shot to my feet. Paris shrieked and flew across the room to her perch yelling “hey!” the whole time.

“I know where he’s from!” I jumped up and down, and frantically scrabbled for my phone. “Where is it, where is it, where is it…”.

I tore through the kitchen, going through the fridge, the bathroom, the couch and the unnecessary amount of blankets heaped on it.

“Found you!” I yelled, having found my phone in my tote bag by the door.

The urgency that flooded my system quickly died when I realized that I had given him my number, and not the other way around. And he hadn’t texted me yet.

For the next hour I dragged myself around my apartment and checked my phone every single time it went off.

“C’mon, Cricket. Text me please,” I groaned into the carpet.

“Cricket, text me!” Paris repeated back to me in a cheery tone.

I glared at her. “Don’t mock me, parrot.”

“Don’t mock me,” she said back and clicked her beak.

Cricket didn’t text all night. I was up until heaven knows when, but I was asleep when the sun finally came up. But not a moment longer.

I had fallen asleep on the couch, my phone right by my face. There was a single notification on it, a text message from an unknown number.

Sit and Sip ASAP.

It took me all of four minutes to get ready and be out the door.

I practically flew through Manhattan. Three cars honked at me, five people yelled at me, and countless pigeons had their breakfasts interrupted because of me.

To top it all off, I nearly gave a couple a heart attack when I burst through the doors of Sit and Sip. The cafe had barely been open ten minutes.

There he was, sitting at the very back of the cafe at my spot, looking just as elegant as he did yesterday. He was staring out at the street that I had crossed by mistake yesterday.

“Christopher!” I called, walking over.

He turned from gazing out the window, and his face lit up when he saw me. He stood as I crossed the cafe to him. His scuffed combat boots made a dull thud when he got off the stool.

“Danielle. Sounds like you remember.”

I laughed and ran a hand through my hair. “I remembered last night, which led to the frustrating realization that I didn’t have your number.”

“You did, once upon a time.”

I scoffed. “I had your mother’s landline number. I could hardly call her, could I?”

He shrugged. “She’d remember you, though.”

“I met her- what- three times? For five minutes maybe?”

“That’s long enough for her. You know, she asked me about you for years after our last camp.”

“Yeah. What happened? Do you know just how depressing that summer was? I had no one to pull pranks with. And your landline no longer belonged to you. Where did you move too?”

“Here. We moved to Greenport.”

“That’s a long way from Washington,” I said.

“That’s for sure.”

Christopher Packer was my partner in crime for three straight summers. We terrorized Red Cedar Summer Camp for two months every year, and enjoyed every second of it. Some of our most famous pranks included putting green food dye in the milk before breakfast, filling the counselor’s bunks with goose and duck feathers, putting garter snakes in the camp director’s bed, and so, so many more. When Christopher hadn’t shown up the fourth year, I called my mom halfway through and had her come pick me up. It just wasn’t the same without him. The nickname Cricket came from our code names for each other. They had to start with the first letter of our first names. Mine was Deer, though Christopher called me Daniel most of the time. In turn, I called him Chrissy.

“What brought you to New York?”

“I got my bachelors degree in interior design at NYTI, and then applied at an interior design firm just a couple blocks from here.”

“Congrats! That’s awesome.”

“Thanks! What do you do for work?”

“I work at the Brooklyn Museum on Long Island and I’m a professional at riding the coasters at Coney Island.”

I smiled. “I would expect nothing less from you, Chrissy.”

“Alright, Daniel. I’ll have to take you sometime to show you my mad skills.”

There was a brief pause. “You know, I’m actually free all day today…”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, are you?”

“That I am.”

“Well that day might just have to be today. Shall we?”

He held out his arm.

I took it.

“We shall.”