Just the Hot Chocolate, Thanks.

I remember going shopping as a kid during the holidays. It was busy, and bustling and there were people all over the place. It was exciting. Everyone would smile at me and ask me about what I wanted for Christmas. I loved it. Every year, when I’d go out with my mom she’d be stressed. She’d wring her hands and pull at her hair as we walked. I would stop and talk with every stranger who would listen. I’d tell them anything they wanted to know, and at the end when we said goodbye, I’d say “buh bye, I love you!” 

I guess I’d said it one too many times because once, after leaving the shops my mom pulled me close to her and said “don’t tell strangers you love them. Do you hear me? That old man was fuckin’ creepy.” 

I was shocked. Had he been creepy? All I knew was that he smiled a lot and seemed to like my never-ending curious questions. As we drove away, I placed my hand on my cheek in the backseat and leaned my elbow against the window. I went in and out of daydreams until my mom began explaining to her boyfriend that “all men are pricks and all women are bitches.” I felt like she was wrong, but what did I know? And if all women were bitches, would that mean that someday I’d be one too? 

This morning I drove up to the store. It's Christmas Eve and I can’t wait until the holidays are over. Everyone’s in a rush, the stores are all crowded, and no one smiles at me anymore. My only goal is to get in and out as quickly as possible because I hate coming here alone. There’s a woman in the middle of the aisle I need to go down and she’s just managing to block the entire path with her shopping cart. I wait a moment behind her to see if she is only going to be there for a moment, but it becomes clear to me that she’s not planning on leaving when she calls her husband over to look at something with her. “Excuse me” I say, and she either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t mind that she’s blocking me out. So, I squeeze my body between her cart and the display table next to me. I move toward the Christmas tag labels and grab a couple options. 

Then, I head as fast as I can to the self-checkout aisle. Somehow, I'm both resenting and cherishing the feeling of being totally invisible. I walk out with my receipt and decide the stress of shopping is enough to reward myself with a little coffee from the shop next door. As I walk inside, my body warms with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. I wear the scent on me now like a sweater. Somehow, I am the only person here. I walk up to the counter and as I look at the menu trying to decide what I’ll have; a barista appears from the back room and walks over to me smiling. 

“Hi, how are you today?” something about the way he says it makes me drop my usual defenses. “I am honestly burnt out today, how about you?” he smiles, and the smile reaches all the way up to his eyes. “I’ve been feeling that way myself lately. Missing family, missing the feeling of Christmas as a kid.” I give him a sideways look because it feels as if he’s reading my mind somehow. “Yeah,” I say. “I get that.” He nods.

“So, what’ll you be having today?” I think it over for a moment. “Do you have peppermint hot chocolate? I came in wanting a coffee you know but a hot chocolate just sounds …” I trail off. I can’t believe I’m blathering on and on to a stranger. I shake my head like an etch a sketch, feeling a smidge pathetic. Suddenly, I’m remembering all the times my mom told me to button it up and keep quiet over the years. To stop being such a motor mouth and to leave people alone. I realize I’m probably bothering this poor barista who’s only here to do a job. I start folding into myself. “Anyway, just the hot chocolate for today. Thanks.” The barista pauses a moment before smiling that warm, glowing smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes and says, “Of course we have peppermint hot chocolate. I have just the thing, too. It’ll be out in a moment.” I nod my head gratefully and take a seat in the lobby. But, almost as soon as I sit down, he calls my name to tell me my drink is ready. Am I losing my mind? How much time passed by?

“We like to put Andie's mints in the hot chocolate to give it a minty flavor. It’s delicious and a great choice.” I feel a little disappointed at this, but his eyes are so hopeful as he hands me the drink that I smile and thank him. “Give it a try and let me know if you like it, if not no worries. We can always make something else!” It’s curious to me that he says “we” because he seems to be the only other person here. I take a sip and close my eyes. The drink is rich and chocolatey. It’s warm but not too hot. It’s creamy and has just the right amount of mint. It takes me a moment to come back to reality. When I do, the barista is still in front of me, looking at me curiously. “How do you feel?” What a strange question! 

I think for a moment. How do I feel? I feel light. I feel …. like I’m forgetting something. The barista only smiles. “Do you think you’ve forgotten anything important?” Oh shit, I must have said that out loud. “No, no, nothing important. Only, something heavy.” I think back on my morning. I remember waking up and taking the most luxuriously hot shower. I remember snuggling with my dogs until 9am. I remember coming to the grocery store and picking out gift tags for the people I love most in the world. I remember how good it felt to find the perfect parking spot when I got there. I go back further. 

I remember playing on the playground with my mom as she chased my brother and I around, yelling that she was the tickle monster. I remember laughing so hard it made my stomach sore in the best way. I smile. I remember lying in bed as a kid on Christmas Eve, too excited to sleep. 

“I can only remember the good things right now.” When I look back up, the barista says, “that’s good, it’s what we strive to do for people. Merry Christmas to you.” 

“Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too. Hey, what did you…?” Before I can finish my question, he’s gone. I’m sitting in my car with a peppermint hot chocolate. I wonder how I got here. I think, maybe it doesn’t matter how I got here, only that I did. I drive home to wrap gifts and snuggle with my dogs. I remember only the good things right now.