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“You got it. Your name, please.”
“Ah, Kiera.” She opened her worn, black leather purse, reached into a side pocket, pulled a five-dollar bill out and laid it on the counter as the barista wrote her name on the cup.
Glancing behind her again, she saw the teenagers had taken a seat in the window. She tilted her head side to side to ease the growing tension. She hiked up the drawing bag she carried and squeezed her purse tighter to her belly. The barista slid her drink forward, nabbed her money from the counter, and efficiently made change. She smiled softly and pointed to the tip cup as she picked up her coffee.
“Thank you, Kiera; you have a great day.”
She nodded and stepped away, turned to the back of the shop and found a table in the corner. Taking the seat against the wall facing the open shop, she sipped once, set her cup down and pulled her drawing pad from the bag she carried. The hard pencil case she’d found in the antique shop in Galina, Illinois found a spot next to the pad. She pulled her jacket off and hung it on the back of the chair and took her seat.
The designs floated through her mind at all times of the day and night. Architecture had been her passion in college. But her husband forbade her to work—any job—and she’d set it aside in an effort to not make waves. Waves were painful. Last year, the buildings came back to her, and she’d found the courage to venture into an art store and purchase the supplies she needed to begin designing again. At first, her drawings were rudimentary, and she’d thought the talent she’d once had had left her. Her mom encouraged her to keep going, and she found her sweet spot.
The bell above the door rang out the entrance of a new customer, and the woman’s sweet laugh caught her attention. A middle-aged couple stepped into the coffee shop holding hands, sharing something for just the two of them. Short stylish hair with caramel highlights framed her petite face. The gray pea coat fit her perfectly, and the Army green scarf and gloves said elegance. It was hard to look away. But then the handsome man with her leaned in and kissed her lips, ran his thumb along her bottom lip while gazing into her eyes and the picture of the two together made her heart jump. His dark graying hair was neatly combed, his face classic—he stood a foot taller than the woman, but somehow, they fit perfectly together.
How lovely to see a couple who appeared to be in their mid-fifties still so passionate and in love. It was clear in the way they reacted to each other. Her stomach clenched while watching them. Those days were gone for her.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she pulled her attention away from the couple and to her drawing. Studying it for a long while, adding a line here and there, she jumped when the chairs at the table next to her scraped the floor as the man pulled it out for his woman. Sitting, while glancing over at her sketch pad, the woman smiled at her.
“Are you an architect?”
Swallowing and laying her pencil in its case, she folded her hands in her lap. “Yes. Sort of.”
***
