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But unfortunately, I don’t get to live that life, not now and probably not ever.
The soothing voice of Jamie Miller fills the coffee shop as I close my eyes and sporadically dance to the last few seconds of the song.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.
My phone alarm goes off, which is my cue to open the front door.
As I walk toward the front door of my shop, I smile at the regulars already waiting.
Charlie and Ryan, the cutest couple in the entire world, just got approved to adopt, and I could not be happier for them.
I welcome them inside as I flip the sign on the door to display Open. “Good morning, guys.”
They smile back at me, and Charlie says, “Good morning, Nikki.” He pauses and takes a deep breath in. “I think this is quite literally the smell of heaven.”
I roll my eyes at him. He is excessive with the number of compliments he gives to both me and the shop. But I am thankful for them nonetheless.
“Your usual?” I ask him as they follow me to the counter.
“You know it,” Ryan says as he pulls out his wallet.
“Ooh, wait, I want one of those!” Charlie points to the warm cinnamon rolls that are covered in white frosting.
“I got you,” I reply calmly while I’m beaming on the inside.
When people like what I made, whether a cinnamon roll or a frappé, I feel proud. Proud that something that I made and created is loved. It’s affirmation that I’m enough, that I’m in the right place and everything’s okay.
I pour two cold brews with half-and-half for Ryan and Charlie, grab a roll and place it in a paper bag, and bring it to the register.
I don’t have to tell them the total because they get the same thing every day, aside from the addition of the roll today. But Ryan doesn’t ask how much they owe; he just taps his card on the reader. Once approved, I print the receipt and hand it and the bag over to him, the coffees to follow.
“Have a good day, guys!” I genuinely smile at them as they turn to leave.
“You too, Nikki!” Charlie waves his coffee at me.
A twinge of guilt strikes my heart. I love my customers, and I feel like I have gotten to know my regulars very well. But it always makes me feel like a fraud.
People open up to me, tell me about their lives. They’re honest, genuine, and passionate. And I lie to their faces every time I see them.
I eventually make myself feel better. Knowing that I don’t have any other choice usually makes it easier. I mean, I’m still me behind the hair and the name. I still show them who I am to a degree.
But sometimes, the guilt hits me harder.
The rest of my regulars give me their orders, and I hastily start on them while trying to shut my feelings down.
When I grab a quick drink of my own coffee, the bell above my door rings, letting me know someone has entered.
“Hi, babe. Don’t worry; I have arrived,” Chloe announces as she makes her way to me and joins me behind the counter.
“You should have seen me. I was panicking like never before.” I chuckle as I stir the caramel macchiato.
She grabs a towel and smacks me with it while she tries to stifle her own laugh. “Need help with anything?” she asks as she ties an apron on. Then, she puts her name tag on, which says Jenny—she uses it to deter any questions about who she really is.
“Right now? No, everything’s ready for at least the morning. We are getting low on almond milk though if you want to grab a new one from the back.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She salutes me as she spins and heads to the cooler.
I giggle and hand out the drinks to the remaining customers. “Have a great day, everyone!”
