Autumn at the Corner Cafe

When the door to the corner cafe opened to let a chatty couple out onto the sidewalk, their hands full of coffee take out, an unexpected plume of pumpkin and spice rushed to greet me. I took a deep breath to let it consume me and smiled with glee. It was officially autumn - my favorite season.

Autumn always held a special place in my heart. When I was little, my parents, my older sister, Lydia, and I all piled into my parent’s blue Mercury Sable and drove out of the city toward the mountains to see if the tree leaves had changed colors yet. 

I closed my eyes and pictured the scene. My Dad tapped a thumb against the steering wheel he griped and hummed along with the car radio playing one of his favorites, “In My Life” by the Beatles. My Mom excitedly pointed out the passenger side window and always said things like, “just look at that” or “have you ever seen such pretty colors?”. Lydia and I took turns leaning across the middle of the backseat to look out each other’s window to see what Mom saw. 

Sometimes, and more often as we grew up, Lydia and I fought over the invisible line that divided her half of the car from my half of the car. Neither one of us dared to cross that line without getting pinched as punishment. Mom and Dad tolerated a lot when we were younger without much interference.

As the memories flooded back from a place I hadn’t visited in years, I continued on my way into the cafe where the scent was even stronger. The cafe was buzzing with caffeine addicts eager to try the newly released artisanal autumn menu. A lengthy line extended from the ordering counter at the back of the cafe all the way to the front door near where I stood without much room to move.

The new menu with leafy borders and designs was on full display closer to the ordering area, but far enough away that it was difficult to read from where I stood. I whipped my phone out of my pocket and went to the cafe’s website to check out the new options. Maple and pumpkin flavors dominated the majority of the seasonal menu, but it was the Carmel Apple Cinnamon Latte that immediately grabbed my attention and easily made my decision. 

While I stood in line waiting for my turn to order, my thoughts drifted back to those road trips with my family. For the life of me, I couldn’t think of the last time we all made the drive together. 

The very last time that came to mind, it was just my parents and me in the car - no Lydia. It was the year just before she had her driver’s license and she was dating the dreamy Bobby Kline. Thinking about it now, nothing was really all that dreamy about Bobby except maybe his smile. He had shaggy, brown hair he constantly brushed back with his left hand to keep out of his eyes, but that was more annoying than it was charming. Back then, though, he was deemed one of the cutest and most popular boys in school.

Lydia threw a teenage-sized tantrum when Mom and Dad insisted she joined us on our annual road trip rather than the movies with Bobby. As much as Mom and Dad pushed for her to come with us, Lydia ended up winning in the end. I remember how proud of herself she seemed even though our parents looked so defeated. 

The ride through the mountains wasn’t the same without Lydia. It was much more quiet. No humming or drumming happened. No “oohs”, "ahhhs", or “look-its" were said. The tension in the car was so thick, you’d think we were trudging through mounds of foliage rather than driving on back roads to look at it. I remember thinking it was good I thought ahead and brought my iPod with me to help drown out the chilled silence.

“Next?” the boom of the voice from behind the cafe counter directed at me and snapped me from morose memories back to reality.

I ordered the Carmel Apple Cinnamon Latte I had my eye on and a black coffee for my boyfriend, Mick, since he wasn’t much for flavored coffee. After I offered my name and paid for the order, I stood off to the side, out of the way, and waited. I pulled my phone out again and decided to text Lydia.

When was the last time we drove with Mom and Dad to look at the leaves changing color? I sent the text to Lydia. 

Three little dots appeared indicating Lydia was responding. 

Ummmm… I think it was the year you slipped and fell outside of that diner we always stopped at for lunch. Weird. What made you think about that? Lydia texted back.

I smiled, immediately remembering which time she was talking about. We always stopped at Cornelia’s Cafe for lunch before we called it a day and drove back home. The cafe had few tables, but had a killer view which looked out over a lake and the surrounding wilderness. I felt a twinge of excitement thinking about the spiced hot apple cider I loved and always ordered when we went there, similar to the feeling I had all those years ago when I knew I was going to drink one.

It was rainy that particular fall day and both Lydia and I were in fowl teen and pre-teen moods. We both begged Mom and Dad to go another weekend, but they insisted if we waited it would be too late. 

Our parents attempted to make the journey lighthearted and fun, but Lydia and I grumbled and fought with each other the whole time. We stopped at Cornelia’s, like we always did, but even the hot apple cider didn’t help. 

We just finished lunch and walked out to the car when I slipped on a rogue patch of fallen leaves and fell hard on my right knee. It was the first time I ever cursed in front of my parents, and it was a doozy. 

Dad laughed heartily with surprise. Mom turned crimson red and scowled in disapproval. 

Not only was my curse offensive, but I sliced a hole in the knee of my new blue jeans and bled rather profusely down the shin - top three things my mother hated, in no particular order. 

“B, order up!” I heard someone shout out and quickly dissolved my bittersweet memory. I grabbed both coffees and carefully weaved through the crowd to the last available table for two next to the cafe’s storefront window. 

I took the disposable lid off the top of my latte and inhaled the sweet aroma of caramel and apple scents that steamrolled out upon release. I blew over the top, rippling the white foam coating. My mouth watered while I tried to patiently wait for it to cool down. I looked down at the side of Mick’s cup to see ‘Bee’ written in black marker and giggled to myself. 

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It wasn’t until I saw the text from Lydia asking if I fell off the face of the planet that I realized I hadn’t responded to her text.

The cafe down the street from my apartment just released their autumn coffee flavors today and for some reason it made me think about our day trip with Mom and Dad, I replied. I looked at the time at the top of my phone and then added another text, Today would be perfect to go on one - are you busy? Do you think Mom and Dad would want to go? 

It was still early enough in the day, if everyone wanted to go.

B, I have two, young, impressionable children. I don’t need a repeat of that year and the fowl language you spew, she replied with a goofy-faced emoji.

I laughed to myself and replied, That was one time, thank you very much! Not to mention, I’m pretty careful when I’m around my nephew and niece. I promise to keep my potty mouth to a minimum. Plus, I think Mom and Dad would really love it. 

After I managed to land a job as a Legal Proofreader, the strained relationship I’d had for a short time with my parents vastly improved. They explained they were concerned I spread myself too thin to live in the city. They worried I worked two jobs, neither of which utilized my Bachelor’s degree in English, and wasn’t focused on my future. I reassured them it just took me more time to figure out where I belonged, but felt I was headed down the right path now. 

It helped they liked Mick, too.

I’ll talk with Greg and let you know, Lydia responded. 

I smiled, satisfied with myself. If I knew my brother-in-law well enough, he’d be on board. He always tried to find ways to knock off Mom and Dad’s socks. For some reason, early on, Greg was under the impression they didn’t like him. Lydia and I occasionally speculated what made him believe that was true, but we couldn’t put a finger on it.

Bobby Kline didn’t hold a candle to Greg.

I blew over the top of my coffee one more time before I attempted to take my first sip. It was still hot, but tolerable enough when it touched my lips. The sweet, silky taste of caramel hit my tongue first before a hint of tart apple. I was surprised it slid down my throat with ease rather than the sharp, tangy wack apples sometimes slap at the back of your throat. The apple aftertaste reminded me a lot of the hot apple cider from Cornelia’s and immediately made this latte my new go-to.

 “Morning, beautiful.” I heard Mick before I saw him and felt his lips gently press against my cheek. 

Startled with delight, I felt my cheeks pink. “Hey, careful with that, or a girl could get used to it.”

He scrunched his face with a cute little smirk to imply I needed to get used to it while he took his jacket off and hung it on the back of his seat. I slid his black coffee over to him along with a couple napkins.

Mick looked down at the coffee and smiled. “I see you’ve branded me already,” he teased and pointed to ‘Bee’ on the side of his cup before he took a gulp.

 “Well, maybe if you would have gotten here first, it would have been the other way around.” I tsk’ed my tongue. “I don’t control these things,” I teased him back before I took another, bigger sip of my latte. I moaned with delight, licking the remanent foam from my top lip. 

 “What did you get? It smells like apples and you seem to really like it,” Mick asked, his eyes honed in on the maneuver I just performed. 

I giggled, covering my mouth with a napkin. “It’s a Carmel Apple Cinnamon Latte and it’s delicious. Wanna try?” I asked offering him my cup. 

He held up both of his hands and turned his head, eyebrows raised high on his forehead, uninterested. “No thanks. It’s all yours. I’m just making a mental note.” 

 “So…” I trailed off with a small chuckle while I tried to concentrate placing the lid back on top of my coffee. “Did you have any plans for today, or…” I trailed off again before raising my eyes only slightly toward Mick .

 “Other than spending today with you? No. Did you have something in mind?” he asked, dipping his head down to meet my gaze. 

Tilting my head to the side, I flashed him a coy little grin before saying, “How would you feel about a long drive to lunch with my parents and possibly Lydia, Greg, and their kiddos?”

 “‘A long drive to lunch’? How long are we talking here?” He questioned me before taking another gulp from his cup.

I bit my lip and mumbled, “Two and a half hours.” 

Mick almost choked on his coffee when he processed what I said. “Must be some great food.”

Slowly, I rolled my eyes to the ceiling while I thought about the mediocre BLT on rye bread I always ordered with a side of generic potato chips and juicy dill pickle. It wasn’t about the cafe. It wasn’t even about the leaves. It was about spending time and making memories with family. 

It seemed as though Lydia understood that as well when I received a text saying her family was willing and ready, I just had to call Mom and Dad.

A giddy warmth wrapped around me in an instant. I was excited, already knowing Mom and Dad were free because of the phone call I’d had with Mom the previous night.

This felt kind of like trying to watch a favorite TV show from childhood when you’re an adult; I knew road trip wasn’t going to be the same as Lydia and I remembered, but I still wanted to revisit it. If nothing else, I hoped it would almost be like a redemption of sorts since the last two times we tried to make the trip, we were nothing but difficult. 

Now, as adults, I felt like we could appreciate time spent with the people who mattered most in our lives rather than judge whether it was fun or if it fit into our agenda. 

Funny how the aroma and taste of a beverage from a little corner cafe helped revive childhood memories and pave the way for new ones. 

And, not to get too far ahead of myself, maybe even started a new tradition with some of my favorite people.