She Wasn't Supposed to be Here Today

It’s her.

She just walked past the window. Very quickly so I nearly missed her because I’ve been engrossed in my book but, I swear that was her. I could never mistake that long auburn braid down her back and creamy light skin even as a blur.

Only seconds later I hear the faint ding of the bell over the door of our usual coffee shop, and I am too afraid to look up to see if I was correct. That’s when I hear it, her soft "Hello" in response to the barista’s greeting. Smooth and breathy, that voice wiggles its way down my spine making me fidget where I sit on my wooden stool at the bar against the giant window.

It’s definitely her.

Sadie.

I take a sip from my paper cup with my vanilla double espresso with oat milk with the misspelled scribbling of Conner that reads “Coner.” I reach up to pull my baseball cap lower but I curse softly when I remember I didn’t wear it today. My only option is to readjust my book to hide my face. She’s supposed to be out of town. What is she doing here? Did her trip end early? Is everything ok with her dad?

I shake myself and do my best to focus on my book because I have no reason to care. It’s not my business. We’re not together now. Damnit, I wasn’t ready to see her today. I hunch my shoulders to hide and make myself as small as possible while keeping my back to her. Maybe she won’t notice me.

I hear her voice again ordering her usual coffee and a not-so-usual chocolate chip muffin. That’s odd. She’s usually so health-conscious unless it’s her cheat day but today is Wednesday. Something must have happened on her trip. I know she wasn’t looking forward to going but a muffin? Chocolate chip at that …

Wow, stop. Stop paying so much attention to her.

“I’m sorry ma’am, we’re out of chocolate chip muffins,” the prepubescent barista weakly says. I can almost feel Sadie’s shoulders slump in defeat. I feel that usual and untamable urge I get to step in and fix the situation for her. Anything to make her happy. Anything to get her mind off of whatever is clearly bothering her. In this case, I don’t know what I could do. Go behind the counter and make chocolate chip muffins appear out of thin air? Oh wait! There is a bakery about a block away. I could run over and—

Jesus, and what, Conner?

I cannot and will not run out of here, jog half a mile roundtrip, and reappear with the perfect muffin for her when she doesn’t even know I’m here much less that I’m listening in to her conversation.

Read your book, you idiot. Leave her alone.

After rereading the same sentence for the tenth time in a row, I am determined to retain it this time. I realign my spine and block Sadie from my brain. It is not my job to fix her problems. It could be if she so chose but—

“Ok,” she sighs in sad acceptance. “I’ll do the blueberry muffin, please.” Her soft smile can be heard in her words, and I suddenly feel jealous of the teenage barista absorbing that smile.

Sweet, caring Sadie.

Even when she’s disappointed, unhappy, maybe hurting, she will make everyone in the room feel appreciated. Feel special. Feel like they are not a bother in her day. She just has that way.

I hear the subtle ding of her Apple Pay then my heart picks up tempo as I wonder where she is going to sit. It could be anywhere. She doesn’t have a usual seat like most people do. It’s like she chooses her seat based on her moods. Sometimes she likes the window where she can soak up the sunbeams streaming in and watch the passersby on the sidewalk. Other times she prefers that dark corner against the exposed brick wall so she can read or be alone with her thoughts. Some days—

A loud scrape of the chair directly behind me breaks my train of thought and a shockwave of fear and something else run up my spine, causing me to jump.

She chose the seat directly behind me.

I am frozen to my wooden stool with my knees pressed up against the glass window. She’s definitely going to see me now. Unless she brought a book. If she has a book, then she’ll be so immersed in the story that she won’t notice if a comet hits the building across the street. My shoulders hunch impossibly higher, and I am conflicted between wanting to run for my life and wanting to turn and face her like a sunflower chasing the sun.

I should leave. I should just get out now before I do something stupid.

“Oh thank you,” Sadie says with a soft smile as the smell of a warmed blueberry muffin drifts to my nose. Someone dropped off her order. She’s distracted. I should make my escape otherwise she will see me and my cover will be—

Suddenly, a quiet moan slips out from between her lips. I visibly twitch at the shock of how quickly all of the blood in my body heats and shifts directions. I hear the sound of a paper cup tap the table in front of her and surmise that she just moaned at the first taste of her usual coffee order.

Jesus, Sadie. So beautiful and so … many other things.

I hear her release a long exhale and … nothing. No rustling of her usual backpack, no turning of pages. She didn’t bring a book. She’s just sitting there. People watching. Watching the café patrons. Patrons like me. Fuck.

I close my book and grab my still warm coffee. It’s time to go. I was not ready for this today. I jump down from my stool accidentally throwing it a few inches behind me making a loud screech sound followed by a vocalized ooph. That’s weird. I turn around and I see … her. Halfway standing, halfway leaning over her table with her coffee spilled down her front and all over the table top.

Oh my god.

I hit her with my stool.

Oh my god.

I knocked her down.

Oh my GOD.

“Are you ok?” I say grabbing her elbow and helping her to stand up straight. “I am so sorry,” I barely choke out. My voice sounds strangled, and my lungs are useless. My hands are shaking and slick with sweat and I may just fall to the floor at any moment if my knees give way like they are threatening to do.

“Yeah …” Sadie says surveying the damage. Her hands are covered in sticky flavored coffee and the small brown bag she is holding is soaked and dripping onto the floor. Her muffin. She was taking it to-go. Oh my god. She was taking her order to-go! I could have stayed put and not ruined her day and ruined my life!

She hasn’t look at me yet. Too busy looking over the drenched table and her ruined, already disappointing muffin. I could leave. I could run out of here and she would never know it was me. I could never come back to this café, and all would be spared. Yes, that’s what I’ll—

Her eyes meet mine. It’s all over.

I fall into her hazel eyes that look as though they are their own light source with the reflection of the sun streaming in through the window.

She lets out a huff of a laugh. “It’s ok.” She smiles. A sweet, small smile just for me. My heart explodes in my chest like fireworks. She smiled. For me.

Sadie sighs. “Just the perfect end to a perfect week,” she says in a self-deprecating manner.

“I’m so sorry.” I look her up and down and wonder if I should get napkins. A new shirt? A new coffee? Yes! “Here,” I say holding out my half-drunk cup in my hand. “Take mine.”

She looks at it and then her brow crinkles in between her eyes. She looks back up at me and lets out a laugh. I suck in a breath and feel my legs wobble underneath me. Oh my god, her laugh. Looking back and forth between me and my cup, slowly her smile drops, as she realizes that I am serious. “Ok,” she says like a challenge. She takes my cup from me and holds it up to her face to read it. “Coner,” she says with a giggle. God, that giggle.

I feel the corner of my mouth tip up and I have to avert my eyes. All the heat in my body has moved to my face and I really wish I had my baseball cap to cover the blushing.

She lifts the cup to her mouth and my breath leaves my lungs as I watch the place where her lips meet the lid. The same place where my lips had been earlier. She sips and brings the cup down and her eyes meet mine with a challenging smile. Then her face changes. Her brow pinches in the center as she licks her lips noticing the taste of my coffee.

“There’s a bakery a block down,” I say interrupting her thoughts. “I could get you that chocolate chip muffin since I ruined yours.” I tip my chin in the direction of the soaked paper bag in her hand. She glances down at it and opens her mouth to respond but stops.

“Chocolate chip muffin?” she says, her eyes narrow, peering at me.

Oh shit. I just gave away that I was listening.

“I … um … I just …” Great response. She eyes me, her eyebrows meeting her hairline. I exhale trying to calm myself before I freak her out completely. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I … I overheard you ordering. And … you had to order that muffin … I mean, a blueberry muffin because they were all out of chocolate chip … muffins.” I could hear the defeat in my own voice on the final word. My shoulders slump on their own and the shake in my limbs has surly started to become noticeable.

I’ve ruined this. She’s going to be so freaked out.

I wasn’t ready to see her today!

I clench my fists so hard my fingernails dig into my sweaty palms. I eye my exit because I’m about to make for the front door – or the window, it’ll be faster – when I feel her soft skin on my forearm. I look down and the hand still holding my cup of coffee is pushed against my skin, so the back of her fingers make contact with my arm.

“Hey,” she says bringing my focus back to her eyes. “It’s ok, calm down.” She snickers at the expression of horror on my face, no doubt. My fists unclench, and I feel the air returning to my lungs. My life is not ruined. What an angel. “Thank you for caring enough to offer but I’m ok with this.” She lifts the paper bag, and it drips on the floor.

We both make a disgusted face and look back at each other and laugh.

“Oh hey,” she says using her chin to indicate the forgotten book in my hand. “I literally just finished that book. Do you like it?”

“Oh its … great.” I smile.

This is the best conversation I have ever had in my entire life.

“Please,” I say with as much suave energy as I can muster. “Let me replace your muffin. And buy you a new coffee.”

“Ok,” she smirks. “I’ll take a new muffin but I kind of like your coffee,” she says taking another sip. My heart flutters. As she pulls the cup away from her mouth she licks her lips, and my eyes are now stuck there. Forever there.

Beautiful, perfect Sadie with the most beautiful, perfect lips.

“Vanilla double espresso with oat milk?”

My gaze on her mouth is broken and my thoughts stutter to a stop. My attention is brought back to her eyes which are trained on the cup as she reads the label. Oh my god, she just read the label.

“That’s …” she meets my eyes. “The same as my drink …”

Her eyes narrow in confusion and her mouth hangs open as if she is about to speak but can’t. And that’s it. I can’t blink, I can’t breathe. I just stare. A hundred emotions flash across her face until she lands on fear. She takes one step away from me and looks me up and down.

“Have we … met? Before?” She blinks at me, waiting. Either waiting for my response or for some kind of realization to hit her. I can’t play this off. I am frozen. Glitching. Absolutely broken and there is no fixing this.

The realization hits her.

“You’re usually wearing a baseball cap …”

Over. Done.

My shoulders fall slowly and square themselves as I look straight into her eyes. A mournful feeling settles in my gut, and I set my lips in a straight line to keep from frowning. I eye her long braid hanging over her shoulder. I reach for it, to touch it. Just once.

Sadie steps back out of my reach until the back of her legs hit the table behind her. She looks terrified. Like a caged animal and I’m the predator.

It’s time I make my exit.

“I’m sorry about your father.” She draws in a quick breath in response. I am making this worse, but it’ll be my only chance to speak to her. Just this once. “I hope his condition improves and you work things out with your mother.”

The coffee cup with “Coner” written on it hits the floor splattering its contents across my shoes, but I don’t break contact with Sadie’s eyes.

Sadie.

I dip my head and reach to grab the bill of my baseball cap that’s not there. If only it had been there today, I would have been ready for her. It would have been just like any other day at the pier where she waits tables, or on the running trail by her house, or here at our usual coffee spot. Everything could have been normal. Nothing would have changed.

“No, Sadie,” I say. “We haven’t met.” I take a step toward the door causing Sadie to stumble backwards in an effort to get away from me. It hurts but I am not surprised. I had hoped for better … someday.

Goodbye, Sadie.