Turn Back Time

A pungent smell with mixed contents of pumpkin spice lattes, freshly baked maple cupcakes, caramel apple and cinnamon brownies wafted in every corner of the cozy little coffee shop. Daniel Schulz’s ‘Turn Back Time’ played softly on the speakers. The melody was deceivingly upbeat and laughs echoed throughout the café but the lyrics were painfully relatable to one customer who sat by the window and listened in silence.

Few idle minutes passed then he leisurely got up, dragging his shoes, almost as if against his will, towards the counter.

“Welcome to Dana’s Coffee Haus! How can I help you today, sir?” the barista asked her routine question smilingly.

How did they never get bored of doing the same thing every day? He wondered to himself and muttered “every new autumn drink you have this season in large cups, please” to her.

“Sorry, what?” she asked, stunned and thinking she ought to have heard him wrong.

He repeated his order and it was certain to her that he wanted one of each of their 13 new autumnal flavored coffee drinks. She was sure he had come in by himself, no one else seemed to be joining him anytime soon and he hadn’t even asked for takeaway cups. She had noticed him sitting somberly all alone staring at his wallet for the longest time till he walked up to place his order. Some customers acted unusual sometimes. It wasn’t anything uncommon so she went back to work. At least he wasn’t one of those wild ones who hurled steaming hot coffee at the store owners, giving them second degree burns or the ‘Karens’ who screamed like their lives depended on it at the smallest mistake. He was different though. For sure. The new line comprised of every flavor that felt like a burst of autumn in your mouth. Maple sage lattes, coffees with graham crackers and milk, a s’mores latte, Mexican spicy mocha and of course, the classic pumpkin spice with a hint of caramel as a twist to name a few. As mouthwatering and tempting as they all were, how would one person finish all of these? And he ordered them in large too? How would he drink all of these drinks and why?

The cheery music poured out of the open doors of the shop as he drank in the aroma of this place. The doors were always open to serve anyone and everyone. Bright lights, colorful walls and warm drinks. The inside of the café was always a happy place. It was his happy place too. Or, it used to be. It used to be his happy place. It used to be their happy place.

Amidst the chaos of the busy café, their knees used to almost touch under the narrow table as they laughed the whole day away. A hundred coffee cups overflowed their table. It used to be an autumn tradition. Their tradition. And now he kept it alive. Alone.

At the glass-fronted counter was an array of pastries and pumpkin pies. The rustic red paint on the outside glistened in the first golden rays of the day as the crisp breeze escaped into the tiny café whenever someone new walked inside. Autumn rain drops clung, jewel-like to the name of the coffee house on the signboard above the daily specials on a chalk board at the entrance. The servers, in smart matching garb with their false smiles, ran frantically from table to table, wiping down surfaces or sealing baguettes in plastic. The terrazzo tiled floor, small vases of yellow carnation flowers on each table, grease smeared aprons on each of the baristas and the small galley kitchen in the back which they disappeared off to. He only noticed every facet of the coffee shop now. Now that she wasn’t there across the table anymore for him to look at. For him to look at and be mesmerized by the tiniest dimple on her right cheek, the way her glasses slipped down her nose whenever she laughed too loud, her espresso brown, sometimes black, eyes and how her curls bounced as she shook her head no violently, in disgust, when he asked teasingly if she wanted to have a raisin cookie. He knew how much she despised those. How could someone ever like a raisin cookie? “Revolting!” she’d exclaim every time he took a bite and he would chuckle.

When the bubbly barista brought over as many of the drinks as she could fit on her tray to him, Daniel Schulz was singing “I lost you and I lost my mind”.

“Anything else that I could get for you, sir?”

“One more straw for her, please,” he said gloomily, staring blankly across the table at the empty chair where she once sat.

I won’t even bother asking him this time around, the barista thought to herself and got him a second straw. She left it near him. It was odd of him to then place it on the opposite end of the table from where he sat. But what was it to her anyway.

“Enjoy your drinks and I’ll bring the rest of them over in a minute!”

He chose to try the caramel chocolate hazelnut mocha first. Her favorite was anything hazelnut. He tapped the surface of the coffee with his straw and the ripples spread toward the rim steadily in large circles. What was he waiting for? She wasn’t here to dip her straw in. He did it himself. There were two straws in the milky drink. Just like before. But only one person to drink it. He still hadn’t gotten used to it. She was so effervescent. Like a frothy, warm coffee. Fuzzy, bubbly and comforting. The perfect antidote to any gloomy day. She brightened up his day like coffee did hers. Every year, she would insist that they go try the new line of autumnal drinks at any coffee shop. Year after year, it became an annual tradition. He would look up online in advance for the best new lines at coffee places nearby or far. He loved seeing her at her happy place. And as time went on, it became his happy place. Now, the happy place was just a place and the one who made it happy stayed frozen in time in his wallet.

The barista caught glimpses of him from behind the counter and watched in confusion as he only drank half of each drink.

“Only a piece of you and me will keep me warm all night. If only I could turn back time”, the words played faintly in the background when he walked out of the café and a tear fell down his cheek as the gold and red leaves crunched under his feet.