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A knock pounded on the door. “Time’s up.” The cashier from earlier called. Which puzzled me even further.
I paid for the shower, and there was still a time limit? I reminded myself to pay ten dollars on my next venture for a little more time in the water.
“Just a second.” I called, dashing from my bag to the mirror. I could add the deep velvet lipstick on the way to work.
***
“Ah, Grey! There you are. I thought you were going to be late. I was worried I’d have to fire my best employee,” Suzie said when I rounded the counter.
The espresso machine hissed beside her.
“Me? Never,” I replied as I tied my apron behind my back. A new receipt printed from our drive through ticketing system. I quickly got to work, preparing each brew on the list.
“Did your professional make-up artist quit her job? You look like shit.” Suzie said as she snatched the ticket from my hand. She reached into a cabinet to pull out a bagel.
“Nope. I just had a super rough night. Mom brought home a new boyfriend.” I snapped the lids on the to-go cups and took them to our drive through attendant.
A car pulled up to the window to collect his or her order. I paid little attention to the people in the car.
“Wait!” Suzie ran to the window. “Don’t forget your bagel.” She handed the little brown pastry bag to the driver.
She picked up a cloth and wiped off the counter while I re-stocked the syrup.
“One of these days your mom is going to regret her decision.” She said as she continued cleaning.
I hope you’re right.
A few minutes later, the drive through emptied and the coffee shop was dead.
“Maddie, you can go for the day. Thanks for all your help this morning! You’re a rock star.” She poured two black coffees. My mouth watered. I realized hadn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before.
Suzie pointed to me. “You, come sit down. Tell me what’s going on.” She grabbed a muffin from the counter.
When she placed a coffee and the muffin in front of an empty seat for me, I could have cried. That’s the nicest anyone had been to me in what felt like forever.
Every bite was more delicious than the last. I savored every crumb that hit my palate.
“I ran away.” I told her everything. From the predator mom brought into our home to the letters. Watching the way her face shifted with each event was better than watching one of my favorite movies. When she was happy, her smile stretched from one ear to the other. Her scowl would make the devil cower. She had so much emotion just for me. It reminded me of how much my dad used to care. When I needed him, he was there for me. It was nice to know that someone was on my side.
“You’re not sleeping in the woods again tonight. My niece moved into town today. She’s going to Georgia State just like you. She’s renting my old rental house, and she needs a roommate. I’ve just decided you’re it.” Suzie spoke with finality.
I dreamed of having a college roommate since freshman year of high school. There were so many things I wanted to look for in a housemate. Common interests, complimenting personalities, similar tastes in music…
“What if we’re not a good fit? I don’t even know if I can afford it.” The coffee shop and my scholarship were all I had. I guess if I needed to pick up a few more shifts I could, or maybe tutor on the side.
“Nonsense. We’ll figure something out. She’s stopping by in a few hours. You’ll get to meet her, but you’re perfect for each other.” With Suzanne Estefania Fernandez, arguing was a waste of time. I’d watched former employees do that before, and that’s probably the reason they were no longer employed by Suzanne’s House of Coffee. I couldn’t afford to lose my job, particularly when her offer was something that I needed more than anything.
“What makes you so sure?”
The ding of the coffee shop door ended the conversation.
Customers flooded the shop one after the other. Suzie and I worked in sync, manning the drive through and the front counter simultaneously. She’d take an order, and I’d pour the drink. Whoever was free first helped the next customer.
“What can I get started for you?” I asked from the sink, not yet able to meet the customer’s eyes.
“I’d like a French vanilla latte with skim milk, an extra pump of caramel and no whipped cream.” The sound of her voice made the hairs on my arm rise. Too bad drinks couldn’t be dropped on the floor before being served to the customer. I could, however, spit in it.
What was she doing in my town?
