The sun is shining this morning and a sense of calm washes over me. I’ve never wanted to live anywhere but the city. I love the hustle and bustle, the noise, the pace… it’s where I thrive. There’s nothing that could ever tear me away from my life here.
I pop my AirPods into my ears as I walk down the street, headed for Harbour Grounds. I slip through the door and let the heady scent of coffee surround me. I could float away on the aroma like a cloud. Jaz, the barista behind the bar, is also my best friend. Shesqueals with delight when I catch her eye from my place in line. The people waiting for their coffee look around as if Sting just walked in, but it’s just me. They make sure to display their disappointment before turning back around.
Jaz and I moved to Sydney around the same time, right out of high school, and became fast friends over a mutual love of coffee, books, and a desire to see the world someday. I pull my AirPods out and return them to their case as she leaves the line waiting, scurrying out from behind the counter. She’s in my arms for a big hug before I can even fully register that she’s coming for me.
“Hi! You’re here, I couldn’t remember when you were getting back.”
“I’m here, and I couldn’t be happier about it. Except maybe if the crap service at this place was better.” This last part I say with a giggle, and she smacks me on the shoulder, heading back to the counter.
She points her finger at me and shouts over her shoulder. “You get decaf for that.”
I feign a look of hurt and fling my hand across my chest dramatically. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She ignores me and turns her attention back to her customers. Luckily, most of the locals who frequent this place know that Jaz is crazy and flighty—it’s part of her charm—and she takes the next few orders with quick precision.
Before I even reach the counter, she slides me my Sleepy Sydney, a nitro cold brew with brown sugar syrup, salted caramel cold foam, and a caramel drizzle. It’s basically caffeine and sugar incarnate.
She points me to the open seat at the bar so she can come catch up with me when the line clears. I watch her work, admiringmy best friend. She started here as a barista and is now part owner of the place. There’s more than one man in here that watches her with rapt attention. Her soft brown skin glows in the café’s amber light, and her dark curls are pulled away from her face, emphasizing her shining green eyes. My friend is stunning. But her looks don’t even hold a candle to the woman she is on the inside.
Beyond my parents, who I do not count, Jaz is the person who’s been in my life the longest. She’s seen me through the hardest moments of my adult life. She’s my person. I’d bury a body with her if she asked me to, and I know she’d do the same for me. Let’s just hope that particular need never arises—dead people aren’t really my thing.
It only takes her a few minutes to get through the mid-morning rush before she takes up her spot opposite me behind the bar.
“Have you gotten better at making these? Or did I just miss your coffee so much that it somehow tastes better?”
“You know it’s just because you missed me. How was your trip?”
My trip… Do I tell her about Wes? I chew my lip, debating it. She’ll probably have more questions than I have answers. So, maybe not.
“It was good, uneventful. You know I don’t love the LA route, but I always find something fun to do.”
That I get to travel for my job is about the only area of my life that makes Jaz jealous. I bank my buddy passes and frequent flyer miles so we can take a vacation together every couple of years. We’ve done Africa and the Maldives so far, but we’re still working out the details for wherewe’ll go next.
“Don’t tell me… You went to Disneyland?” She says this as if she knows me or something.
“Yes, I did. Before you say anything, I know I go there every time I’m in LA, but I can’t help it. I do believe it’s the happiest place on earth, outside our little slice of heaven here, of course.”
“I know that, but what makes me crazy is that you could do so many things—hit up Hollywood, shop Rodeo Drive, go to Santa Monica—but instead, you always go back to Disneyland. I think you’re nuts.”
“I’m aware of how nuts you think I am.” I add an aggressive eye roll just to drive my point home. “Maybe I’m saving those things for when I drag you to LA with me someday.”
“Have you talked to Eric lately?” she asks nonchalantly, avoiding my eyes by wiping the perfectly clean counter with a rag.
Where did that question come from?
“Definitely not, why?”
“I’m just asking.” She holds her hands up like I have her at gunpoint, the rag hanging limply. I guess my response came out a little defensive. It’s been over a month though, so I can’t figure out why she’d suddenly be interested.
“You remember he dumpedme, right?” I try to lighten my tone, but it’s still more clipped than I’d like.
“I just thought that maybe…” At the look on my face, she stops and seems to think better of where she was going with that sentence. Or maybe not. She sets her shoulders and continues. “I just thought you might have decided it was finally time to let someone in.”
I clearly haven’t had enough caffeine yet because I have no idea what she’s getting at. I let people in. Eric and I dated for six months. It just turned out he wasn’t the right guy for me.
“Look,” she continues, “I love you. You know I love you. I’ve also known you a long time, nearly twelve years come to think of it, and there hasn’t been a single guy you’ve dated that’s scratched the surface of knowing the real you. Eric told you as much, right? Wasn’t that the problem?”
I’m stunned. Where is this coming from? Maybe I should have led with the Wes story so we wouldn’t be talking about this right now.
