The Coffee Jockey

The skirt was trying hard, and only by its best efforts did it make it down to her legs. I looked around and found every man watching her. 

She stopped as she dropped her keys, and contemplated them for a moment. The men leaned forward a little, tensing. The bloke sitting with his wife turned away, but only the second time, when she used a sharp tone. 

Gracefully she bent her knees, angling them to one side, assisting her skirt’s efforts to maintain decorum. The men relaxed as she headed towards me. 

“Your usual, Cory?” I asked.

“Not today, Mark, today calls for a double shot, double chocolate with extra caramel syrup extra hot, soy mocha, thank you.”

I raised my eyebrows. She leant towards me, rising to her toes. I could see the men tracking the hem of her skirt.

“Today is the day I land my man.”

“If you lean just a little further forward, Cory, I suspect that half the men here will land on the floor behind you.”

Her eyes opened wide as she dropped back to her heels and then turned to look. The breeze from the air conditioning was swamped by the air currents created by men looking somewhere else. I wondered whether the Angus, the local chiropractor, would get the whole story or just, “My neck hurts.” 

“Henry!” rose stridently from the table with man and wife.  

I regretted her not leaning any more as it meant her the neck of her shirt dropped back against her chest. Keeping my eyes locked firmly on hers had required discipline and mental cold showers, but my peripheral vision had feasted.

Cory was blushing as she turned back.

“You are such a tease, Mark,” she said. “Nobody pays attention to me.” 

 I smiled. I think I was successful at keeping it from being a disbelieving smirk.

“Cory, you are an angel when working in your garden in tracksuit pants and a baggy sweater. In your usual clothes, even blind men look twice.  Dressed like you are today you are an act of God for the emergency department. Did you count the accidents that happened as you walked down the street?”

“Rubbish.”

“So, who’s the lucky man?”

She hesitated, blushed, opened her mouth, hesitated and then decided against telling me. She looked down at the counter. 

“I don’t want you giving it away.”

“To who? I don’t know anyone at your level.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice suddenly sharp, her eyes back on me. 

“I am just a coffee jockey, Cory. I don’t know anyone that plays in the leagues that you do. Everyone is just a face, a usual and a brief conversation to me. How am I going to give it away to someone that can match you?”

She leaned forward again, and the battle to keep my eyes from dropping down the front of her shirt resumed. I was exercising so much discipline I didn’t see the slap coming. 

The crack of her hand had every male head, and most female ones, swinging back towards us. 

“What was that for?” I asked indignantly. 

“Because you just insulted yourself. You ran yourself down and belittled yourself. No-one, especially not you, is ‘just a coffee jock’.” 

Her face hardened. “And worst of all, you insulted me.”

“You?”

“Yes, me. The man that I couldn’t name, is you. I came in here to get you, to break through the, “I’m your best friend next door,” routine. I want you, Mark, the coffee shop owner, the big hearted next door neighbour always ready with a smile, deep, honest and real, who looks at me and knows how I am feeling. Yes, I do earn a lot of money, and yes, I could have moved to a fancier place, but I chose to stay living next to you, because I want you, you dumb dope.”

My mouth was so wide open a double decker bus could have made a handbrake turn in it. 

“You like me?” 

“No, I love you. Every time you touch me, my whole body tingles. I go grocery shopping when I know you will see me come home so that I can brush against you as you help me unload the car. When we sit on your porch in the swing chair it takes all my self control to…”

She stopped and looked behind her. Every person in the place was gazing intently at her, including Henry’s wife. “Go on, dear,” she encouraged.

When Cory swung back to look at me, her eyes were glistening. One tear tracked down her cheek. She opened her mouth to speak. Instead she took stern control of her face, turned and walked out. I could see her shoulders shaking, and heard a sharp intake of breath as if she was sobbing. 

No-one made a sound as they watched the door close. They swung back to me. 

“Aren’t you going to go after her?” It was Henry’s wife again, sharp, as if I was Henry. 

“I can’t, I need to look after the shop.” I said softly, still stunned.

She poked Henry. “You used to be a barista, take over for the man.” He was up and behind the counter before I could blink.

“Go on, Cathy is right. I can give you half an hour.”

“But she’ll have gone by now,” I said absently. 

Every eye turned to the keys on the counter. I snatched them up and ran. 

“Cory!” I yelled as I side stepped around a well womaned zimmer frame. I couldn’t see a miniskirt anywhere. 

“Young man!” snapped the zimmer driver. 

“So sorry ma’am,” I tossed over my shoulder, slowing to a walk as I scanned, desperately. 

“Young man!” her voice was now imperial, Queen Victoria in a nightmare. I stopped and turned, obedience unquestioned. 

“Did you have anything to do with upsetting the young lady in the unseemly skirt?” she asked.

“Ah… yes. Did you see where she went?”

“Yes.”

I waited expectantly for at least three seconds.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to tell me where she went?”

“What did you do to upset her?”

“What has that got to do with where she went?”

She had sharp blue eyes, pale from much living, and they were not in the least intimidated by my frustration. 

“Nothing. But it has everything to do with you knowing where she went.”

I turned around in a little circle of frustration. 

“I insulted her.”

Her eyebrows rose, portending doom. I hastened to explain. 

“I told her that she was too good for me. Or rather, that I wasn’t good enough for her.” 

She pursed her lips, her head tilting sideways, weighing my worth. 

“So far I agree with you. Why was she insulted?”

I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I stood and stared at Blue Eyes as the rush of emotion that had started as Cory turned and fled overwhelmed me. I felt my face broaden into a smile. 

“She said… She said she loved me.” I wandered around inside my head, watching crushed hopes and strangled wishes grow into possibilities.

“She loves me…” I whispered.

Silence stretched and stretched until my eyes focussed again. Blue Eyes were gentle now, the wisdom of the years pleated around them, and they understood. 

“Do you love her?” she asked, her voice quiet. 

“With all my heart.”

“She went into the ladies, and she hasn’t come out yet. Wait here.” She was all business and bustle.

She walked her zimmer around in a circle, and set off towards the ladies, each step purposeful.  

I was striding up and down the mall, eyes fixed on the door, completely oblivious now to the stares from the coffee shop, when Blue Eyes came out again. 

“She’s the only person in there,” she said. 

“I own that coffee shop,” I said pointing. “Anything you want, on the house, any time.”

She nodded, and gently shooed me towards the door. 

The ladies was unexpectedly pink. I could see no-one. 

A sniff came from the last stall. 

“Cory?”

“Mark!”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing in here?”

“Finding you.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“The old lady with the zimmer frame.”

“Oh, is that what that clacking noise was.”

“Didn’t she talk to you?”

“No, I have been in here the whole time.”

I shook my head in confusion. 

“Cory, could you open the door please?”

There was a long silence. 

“No.”

That rocked me back. I struggled for my next line. 

“Go away,” she said, her voice small. 

“No.”

Problem of what to say solved. 

I stood and stared at the door. It stared back, ugly in its chipped pinkness. I mentally measured the screws around the lock. I could break them open, easily, but the kick would send the door crashing into Cory. 

Instead I opened my wallet and found a 20c piece. It fitted neatly in the slot on the outside of the lock and the lock turned easily. 

Badger eyes looked up at me from Cory’s face. Tears spilled, dissolving more mascara. 

“I look terrible. You can’t see me like this.”

Crouching, I took the hands she was wringing between mine.

Her wide eyes never left mine, pain shimmering just below their surface.

“So,” I began, and strangled to silence on the pain in her eyes. 

“I guess you most want to know how I feel?”

She nodded slowly.

“I love you, Cory, with all my heart,” I said as clearly and emphatically as I could.

The pain in my love’s beautiful brown eyes slowly vanished.

“Really?”

“Really, truly, utterly!”

“As a best friend?”

“No, as in I want to take your clothes off and, and… marry you.”

“Really?”

Leaning forward I kissed her, thoroughly.

“Really!”

“Oh Mark, from when?”

“About two months after you moved in.”

“Two years ago?”

I nodded.

“Why didn’t you do anything about it.”

“At first you were the ice lady. So I did friendly. Then, when you thawed enough to have a real conversation, you told me that you hated the way men lusted after you.” I could feel myself blushing.

“I realised I was one of those men, that at first you were a great body, awesome legs and of course your face is on billboards and television. It took me weeks to get over the shock of your perfect beauty. When you described the creepy men, I saw myself, and I really didn’t like what I saw.”

I held up my hands.

“I know, you don’t think you are that attractive. But you are. That is why men are such a problem for you.”

She shook her head.

“When did you realise you loved me?” I asked.

“Much later, only about a year ago.”

“Which explains why I got no interested signals from you. I decided that at least I could give you friendship, and I saw, over time, what a precious gift that was to you. So I wrapped up my love deep on the inside of me and used it to give you what you needed.”

Her face softened, and she stroked my cheek.

“It worked, Mark. You just being a friend built a road into my heart. I was so surprised when I realised that I loved you. In fact, I was horrified that you had snuck into my heart, and I spent about two weeks looking for a reason to be angry at you.”

“Did you find one?”

“Not one, just fell in love with you more as I realised how…” she scrunched up her nose in her thinking expression, “honourable, I suppose, there doesn’t seem to be a modern word, you had been.”

“So why didn’t you say anything, or make a move.”

“I did! But every time I ran into this part of you that was closed. I was so frustrated, I could feel a connection, and it was the kind of connection that ran deep, but you wouldn’t let me in.”

“You ran into me being noble,” I said, trying to look like I was.

She laughed, clear and bright, and my heart lifted, knowing it was going to be alright. “Noble doesn’t fit on your face.” 

“I was seriously controlled. I had worked out that if I did something wrong, something that looked like the men you hate, that I could destroy our friendship. I had to shut down the love to protect you and me. That must have been the barrier.” 

She took my face in her hands. It felt so good to have her touch me with meaning. 

“I truly thought you didn’t love me. It hurt so much, loving and not being loved, that I decided that knowing you didn’t love me was worth the pain of finding out, so I could move on. So I came in today to find out. And I am sorry I slapped you.” She gently stroked the side that she had slapped.

I pursed my lips, “We need to talk about that.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“Mean what, the slap or the fact you think that I am good enough for you?”

She paused for a moment, shifting on the toilet seat. 

“Ok, I meant both. Of course you are good enough for me.” She paused again. 

“No, even that is not true, you are an awesome man in your own right, and calling you good enough for me is to make you less. I love you, the whole of you and nothing but you, Mark Cuthbert Logan.”

“You meant the slap?”

She smiled gleefully and nodded. “Yes, I did. I didn’t plan it, just reacted to you being so damned little. And I will remember the look on your face forever.”

My head fell back as I roared with laughter. 

“Excuse me!” said the petite teenager peering into our loo, “What are you doing in here?”

“Just leaving,” I stood not letting go of Cory. “Come, our audience awaits.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“With this face?”

“Do you think that anyone will have left the shop? They will all be there, wanting the next instalment.”

She smiled and went to the wash basins. “I guess what I started in public I should finish in public.”

Only two people were looking at us as we walked in. Everyone else was very busy not looking. 

Henry called from behind the counter. 

“Only two people had to leave and the lady that helped you came in. Everyone else bought another coffee so they had an excuse to stay.”

Those busy not looking switched to asking questions with their eyes. 

I looked at Cory. “You are better than me at this.”

She said nothing, just gazed calmly and steadily at me, and the tension slowly grew, in me, and in the held breaths of our audience. 

She stepped back, slipping her hand from mine. “Don’t be little.”

Taking a slow deep breath, I turned to our audience, and stepped up to my love’s expectations. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the slap worked, my sense of self has duly been adjusted and I am now happy to announce that I intend to marry the lovely Cory Alexander, CEO of The Simple Mortgage Company, and…”

I was drowned out by applause, questions and shouts of approval. I turned, smiling, to look at Cory. 

I had her stunned. I raised my left eyebrow.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Of course. I’ve been certain for a long time, and planning it for about the last 10 seconds.”

“Then best you ask,” she said, pointing at the floor.

I sank to one knee. 

“Cory Alexander, I love you and I wish to spend the rest of my life continuing to care for and cherish you. Will you please, marry me?”

She started to bend forward, and I stood up abruptly, startling her. 

“There are people in the danger zone,” I said. When she frowned I leant to her ear. 

“That is a very short skirt you are wearing. And your legs are lethal.”

She swept her hand down behind her, smoothing her skirt into as much decorum as it would allow and she blushed, beautifully.

I waited expectantly. 

She smiled at me, gently, deeply. 

“Yes Mark, I would love to.”

Our audience exploded again.

“The entertainment is on the house. The coffee you will still need to buy,” I announced.  

I felt a hand on my arm. 

“Congratulations and well done, young man. It was a pleasure bringing the two of you together.” Blue Eyes was leaning one handed on her walking frame. 

“You didn’t even talk to Cory,” I said.

“I know, but I did need to use the facilities, and I was not waiting for you to work up the courage to go in.”