Coffee Date

       It was 7:05 pm when I added the finishing touches, straightening the two white cloth placemats on the tiny café table and standing back to evaluate my work.  The two weathered wooden chairs were pushed in neatly facing each other, and the table was adorned with a small electric candle that I had ordered online, and a mason jar with a single pink rose that I had plucked from my neighbor’s front garden on my way to work.  The coffee shop sat on the corner of Main street and Broadway, and this table held prime real estate next to the long window that looked out over the street.

            I resumed my place behind the barista bar and worked on cleaning some utensils from earlier and straightening up the space.  Like clockwork, at 7:15, Walter and Ruth Bell shuffled in through the double doors of the main entrance and made their way towards the counter.

            “How are you all this evening?” I asked placidly.

            “Just fine dear,” Ruth remarked.

            “It’s lousy weather for a picnic,” Walter quipped.

            “January will do that to you.” I played along with his much used joke.  “The usual?”

            “Yes ma’am,” Walter reached for his wallet.

            “No can do!  Tonight is on the house.  It’s a special day!” I gestured to the table the couple used every night when they came in for their evening drinks.

            “How kind, I can’t believe you remembered!” Ruth exclaimed

            “Happy fifty years you guys,” I said with a smile.   

I prepared them the same order every night; a decaf Americano with cream for Walter and a peppermint hot chocolate for Ruth. When I set the ceramic mugs down on their saucers, I picked up my camera that I had hung around my neck.

            “Photo for memories?”

            Walter leaned over the table to give his wife a gentle kiss on her cheek while also managing a mischievous look for the camera.  Ruth made a sheepish laugh at the silliness of her husband.  I snapped the shot.

            “Cute!  Enjoy your drinks, and let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” 

            When I got home that night I showed the picture to my roommate, Leah.  

            “Isn’t it so cute? I think I’ll print it in a vintage-y way, like a polaroid or something,” I said. 

            “You are so obsessed with that old couple,” Leah responded.

            “Well if you don’t think being married to somebody for fifty years of your life, following them around the world to military bases so that you can live together, settle down on a cute little farm in the country, and then sell out so that you can buy a shoebox apartment in downtown isn’t romantic, then I don’t know what is.” I said.

            Leah rolled her eyes. “I can find you an awesome guy, but you’ll never go on a blind date.”

            “Because it’s pointless!” I told her, “You just end up wasting your time with a bunch of weirdos.”

            “Try me,” Leah challenged. “Valentines day is in a few weeks.  I bet a could set you up with a really awesome man before then.”

            “Fine. Deal,” I said, a little nervous at the prospect of having to meet new people. 

            The following day, I was already set up to meet somebody of Leah’s choosing after I finished my shift at the coffee shop.

            “I don’t understand why you can’t just meet him at your coffee shop.” She muttered as I was getting ready for my shift.

            “I don’t know, it just feels weird,” I answered. “And if it sucks, which it will, it kinda ruins the sanctity of my place.” 

            “Well, it won’t suck.  He’s a coffee snob just like you, so you can spend the whole time talking about organic beans from Costa Rica or something like that.” 

            After closing up the shop that night, I made my way three blocks down main street to a different coffee shop to meet a tall man with curly light brown hair and black rimmed glasses. 

            “It’s a no-go,” I said as I dropped my keys onto the entryway table an hour later. “He drinks Starbucks every day on his way to work.”

            Leah rolled her eyes. “Whatever.  I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

            Suddenly I found myself having mini dates scheduled every day the following week, and Leah and I decided to make the bar across the street from my shop the official blind date spot.  I knew the bartender there, and when I told her about Leah’s mission, she was more than willing to be a host. “That sounds so fun!” Sarah exclaimed. 

            Monday night was Adrian, who loved video games and anime TV shows, both of which I have zero knowledge of whatsoever.

            Tuesday was Josh, who owned a construction company, and spent thirty minutes outside on “an important business call.”

            Wednesday was Patrick, who was nice but seemed to only be able to talk about his twin brother who ran cross country for Stanford University, “On a full ride scholarship!”

            Thursday was Jake, who downed four whiskey sours in an hour and had a dog named Angus.

            On Friday night I came home and Leah called from the kitchen, “Now don’t tell me you didn’t like Conrad, he’s cute and funny!”

            “Oddly intimidating,” I replied.

Every night Sarah acted like she had never seen me before, but gave great service and timed her check-ins on us perfectly whenever she detected an awkward silence or lull in conversation.  I did blow my cover once, when I came in to eagerly offer her a book that I bought for her on my way down main street that morning.  It was a new one in a series that I remembered her enjoying, and I had been so excited to give it to her that I hadn’t realized my date was already sitting at the bar waiting for me. 

            For two weeks I had been recounting my horrible dates to the Bells when they came in for their evening drinks.

            “I just wish I could end up happy like you guys,” I told them. “I don’t want to settle for a person that isn’t perfect for me.”

            “You’ll find your special someone eventually,” Ruth reassured me.  “Until then, think about all of the interesting new people you’re getting to meet!”

            “Last night’s guy used to play competitive chess in high school.” I said incredulously.

            The following day, I closed up the shop without seeing Walter and Ruth come in at all.  It happened from time to time, so I assumed they must be busy.  We had baked Leah’s favorite flavor of cookies for the shop that day, double chocolate chip, and I carefully slid the cookies that I had set aside for her into a paper bag and headed home.

After a several days without seeing my favorite patrons, I began to worry.  But that night Walter came shuffling in at his normal time, lacking the usual brightness and moving a little slower than usual.  He held a piece of paper in his right hand as he approached me.

            “Hello dear,” he greeted me in a low, quiet tone.

            “Hi, Walter,” I said, “Is everything alright?”

            “Ruth passed away on Tuesday, I wanted to invite you to the service,” His eyes were still downcast when he lifted the invitation in his hand and offered it to me.

            I slipped out from behind the counter and whispered “Oh Walter, I’m so sorry…”

            “Its alright love, she was peaceful,” He finally lifted his eyes toward mine, “But she really loved seeing you every day, so it would mean a lot if you came to the ceremony.” 

            I cancelled my dates for the rest of the week and the next day found myself standing in the banquet hall of the little church downtown, my hands in my pockets as I stood looking at a table covered in framed photographs of the couple that I had gotten to know so well over the past two years of working at the coffee shop.  I felt someone approach and turned to see Walter by my side.

            “You two had a beautiful life,” I said, “You were so lucky to have each other.” 

            “Life is only as good as the people you choose to share it with,” He replied.

            I turned away as my eyes welled up with tears.  Now wasn’t the time to grovel in my aloneness, to complain about how I would never find someone who fits me as perfectly as Walter and Ruth Bell fit together. 

            “You have some amazing people in your life,” He continued.  “It is clear that your friends care for you deeply.”

            I thought about Leah and her matchmaking scheme, and how Sarah had been so willing to play along.  I really did have some great friends.

            I turned back towards the table and spotted the framed wedding picture of Walter and Ruth, their young faces beaming.  I pulled the small polaroid photo from my pocket and glanced at Ruth’s face, old and weathered, scrunched up in a laugh as Walter pecked her cheek from his side of the café table.  I propped it up on the right side of the wedding photo’s frame, so that the two pictures combined offered a side by side comparison of the couple on their first and last wedding day.  I made a mental note to ask Leah and Sarah out for dinner.