Chaos at the Cafe

“See you soon, Mark.”

A young woman ends the call and sets her phone down to place her full attention on the road. Once she’s merged onto the highway she quickly glances at the rear view mirror to check on her physical appearance before meeting with Mark. An image of dazzling dark brown eyes, defined eyebrows, long auburn bangs, and hastily applied ruby red lipstick reflects back at her. Adjusting the mirror, she looks in the back seat where her tiny yorkie puppy, Peanut, and her purse stitched in calligraphy with the words, My Angel, lay.

Her eyes wander back to the road and, since driving is second nature to her, it allows her thoughts to drift back to the morning, only a few hours ago, with shocking ease. Her date with him was last minute, only a few minutes before she left for her weekly yoga class. Just like Mark, she thinks, to do things last minute. I need to go; to end the business we have started.

Peanut suddenly barks loudly in the back seat, as if being tormented by some strange unseeable spirit. After a few seconds of torturing agony, the animal stops its cries and stares at its owner with his unblinking dark eyes, as if the puppy were a philosopher in the middle of deep contemplation. Poor Peanut, she ponders, suffering with me. I can finally hear her thoughts as clearly as if they were my own.

With practically no time to prepare, I grabbed the necessities and began to drive to some local French bakery named La Boulangerie to meet Mark.

“Angelica why are you doing this? Giving him a second chance?” she whispers to nobody. Angelica sighs at her bothersome thoughts and tries to concentrate her entire being on following the directions to La Boulangerie that were issuing from her phone.

The sensation of changing bodies is always strange and this transformation is no different, just a bit more hairy, but I’m used to it soon enough. After all, I have been trained to do this since the beginning of time. I am a mere reflection of Peanut and my sole purpose is to guide and provide companionship to my new patient, Angelica.

During my transformation, we have already pulled into the parking lot that contains multiple small restaurants, craft shops, and hair salons. Blazing and over-cheerful neon signs deck the stores’ windows, even though it is hardly eleven in the morning.

I leap into Angelica’s purse as she begins walking to the packed La Boulangerie. Once settled into a comfortable position, I peek my brownish-black head out of the swaying My Angel purse and read a sign on the cafe’s window that states that pets are allowed. Thank goodness for that; after all, it is my duty to stick by my client at all times.

A waiter leads us to a table surrounded by aromatic lavender buds where two metal chairs topped with sandy plush cushions lay invitingly on opposite sides of the table. Angelica sits down on one of the chairs with her legs crossed while I stealthily crawl out of her purse and curl around the legs of her chair on the ground.

Mark has not arrived yet so it gives Angelica time to browse the menu and me time to determine how to repair this relationship as best as I could.

So here I was with her, ready to meet Mark. A balding man approaches our table, and I know at once that this is him. Angelica continues to stare intently at the menu even with full knowledge of Mark’s presence.

“Angelica, it’s me Mark.”

She sets down the menu and tells him to sit down, but he doesn't. Mark remains standing and people begin to stare at him. I have to fix this embarrassing moment so I begin barking loudly. With this simple act of adorableness, Mark bends down to pet me and people stop staring.

“Hello there, Peanut. At least you still welcome me.”

“Please sit down, Mark. Stop calling attention to us,” Angelica commands.

He sits down but the two ex-lovers remain silent as if an impenetrable wall has been built between their hearts and lips.

“Look, Angel. I’m so sorry about that night. I wasn't myself and you know that,” Mark bursts out.

“You made a promise to me and you broke that promise. I don’t want to talk about the past. The only reason I’m here was to make it up between us, nothing more or nothing less. And stop calling me your Angel,” Angelica says in a dangerously low and controlled tone, the opposite of Mark’s emotional voice.

“I was drunk that night when we went out; what I did was wrong, and I admit it! One tiny mistake like that shouldn’t just end our relationship,” he looks up hopefully at Angelica, “We can start fresh again. I love you Angelica and you’re the apple of my eye.”

To further draw his point, I conjure up an apple for Mark to present to his ex-lover. I even heighten the perfume of the lavender buds in an attempt to sway Angelica’s decision, but when it comes down to love even I can’t control it all.

“Well, I don’t feel the same way, and I just can't say yes to you again, ok? Nothing will change my feelings for you, no matter how much you do.”

“But--,” the apple falls from Mark’s hand and lands on the cold cement.

“I’m sorry this has to happen, but at the same time, I’m not. I should never have come. You’re lucky that I’m able to be on speaking terms with you. Let’s go Peanut,” Angelica says as unwanted tears begin to spring from her eyes.

She stands from her rickety metal cafe chair and summons me to follow. I ignore her commands because I know that it’s time for her to change her behavior and, plus, no one tells the goddess of love what to do. A waiter walks toward their table to take their orders.

“Good morning and welcome to La Boulangerie. Is there anything you want from the menu?”

Mark immediately takes control over Angelica’s mini breakdown and orders a cappuccino, with the additional instructions of no milk and two sugar cubes.

While he places his order, Angelica brushes off the few tears that escaped her and slides into her chair again, giving me a firm pat on my fluffy head. After a few more seconds of summoning up her courage she is ready to give her order.

“I’d like a chocolate croissant and English breakfast tea with cream and sugar, please. Oh, and a bowl of water for my dog. Thank you.”

Bingo, I think as the waiter scrolls down their orders on his notebook, summoning that waiter was the correct choice.

Once the waiter leaves, Mark brings up a topic that will hopefully cause no more tears. Smart move Mark, I think.

“So, you still bring Peanut everywhere you go? I’m not sure if you knew, but I got a cat. Her name is Rose and she’s a tabby with electric green eyes. She’s still a kitten and a bundle of energy.”

“Obviously. Peanut is the only one in the world who sympathizes with me.”

“That’s how I feel with Rose. Maybe they can play and get to know each other some time,” Mark says.

“Haven’t you heard that dogs and cats are mortal enemies, Mark? Me and you, we just don’t go together. Just like cats and dogs don’t mix without causing chaos.”

“Yes but maybe, just maybe, this lonely feline can mix with this beautiful canine.”

Here Mark motions to his heart and then to Angelica’s heart. She brushes aside his hand with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m staying here out of politeness for the restaurant,” she says bitterly, “So don’t push my kindness.”

I’m doing a terrible job with my mission, and I’m desperate for ways to fix this hot love mess. I summon the waiter to arrive with their orders to buy some time.

Mark silently drinks his cappuccino while Angelica carelessly stirs and watches her English breakfast tea, as if it held the answers to all her questions.

“Go in peace and be freed from your suffering, Angelica. I know when I am no longer wanted. Please leave me.”

“No. Look Mark,” she sighs, “the purpose of this meeting was to repair our relationship and that’s exactly what I plan to do. If I leave you without any reconciliation between us, then our relationship will continue to haunt me.”

“But how do you propose to fix this already sunken ship? Even I think it's hopeless. The best thing we can do is forget our affair ever existed.”

“That’s one solution, but it’s not the one we’re going to take. My mother once told me that we need to pave our own paths even when it’s difficult. So, we’re going to fix this mess and fix it properly.”

“You know what? That’s what I liked about more than anyone else I met: your determination and persistence. No matter what happened, you always stuck with what you thought was right. That’s why I fell in love with you, my angel.”

“You calling me ‘your angel’ is not going to work on me this time, Mark. Since you’ve already put a spell on me before, I will absolutely reject anything else that you will give me. Ok? If you love me at all, then just drop the subject about us possibly getting together again, please.”

“Of course, my ange-, I mean, Angelica. I’ll stop.”

He waves down a waiter for the check. Angelica hasn’t even begun to drink her tea and her croissant has barely been nibbled. I’m doing a terrible job so I’m forced to resort to the most basest of tactics. I bark, whimper, and whine at Angelica in an attempt to make her perform some romantic Romeo and Juliet scenario with Mark.

Speaking of Romeo and Juliet, my father identifies it as a failed mission, but I perceive it as a success because, please, I made them die out of love for one another which is what I’m meant to do: make love!

“Stop it Peanut.”

I’m tossed into the My Angel purse with multiple ‘bad doggy’ phrases. I strain my ears to hear any bit of conversation that might proclaim any success of my noisy puppy racket.

“You’re a good guy, Mark but from now on I hope to see you as a friend and only that.”

“I’ll settle for your friend, but only because it’ll make you happy. All the same, I don’t see how I’ll possibly be able to love anyone else as much as I loved you.”

These purses, how can any dog survive in here? Obviously, my temper tantrum didn’t leave an impact on my client, I growled.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find someone. For such a sweet guy like you, I have no doubt that you’ll love somebody again.”

“I hope so.”

As soon as the check arrives, they contribute to the bill and akwardy get up to leave. I know I have to do something, but I have nothing left to do but remain in the purse. My type of work is the most frustrating compared to let’s say, guarding the Underworld, so easy.

“I guess it’s goodbye for now, friend,” says Angelica.

“I guess so. I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too, but it’s for the best,” she says in a wistful manner, “Maybe Rose and Peanut can get together sometime. If it’s alright with you..”

“I’d love that, friend.”

“Au revoir, Mark.”

“The same to you.”

I should be doing something romantic now but the moment is just too perfect for me to ruin or interfere in. Mark and Angelica arise from their chairs and walk out of La Boulangerie in opposite directions.

Oh well, now I’ll have to report back to Mount Olympus with a failed mission under my belt. The purse continues to sway beneath my paws, signaling our walk back to the car, and I decide that I’ve had enough time playing Peanut. I silently leap out of the purse before Angelica enters her car, but before landing on the ground I transform into a sparrow and begin my flight back to headquarters.

Oh well, there’s always next time.