Time After Coffee

Cracked leather cushions and the soft hum of conversation echoed through Café La Vida. Charlie hovered behind the counter, multitasking her way through the morning rush like a caffeinated octopus. She moved on autopilot, pulling shots and steaming milk, mind spinning like the creaky ceiling fan overhead. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat. "Uh, hi. I think this might be yours," said a calm voice accompanied by a hesitant chuckle. Charlie snapped back to reality, her cheeks warming as she looked up to find a handsome stranger holding a distraught latte. "Oops, sorry about that! What was it supposed to be again?" Charlie smiled sheepishly. "A plain black coffee. With just a little bit of space," replied Alex, extending a diplomatic smile. Tall and fashionably unkempt, his presence bordered on endearingly meticulous. Most of the typical patrons would’ve huffed off, but here he was, bemused and charming. "Can do! That's on the house," Charlie assured, realizing a second later that nothing of hers was really on any house. But she didn’t sweat it, knowing it wouldn't be the last time she mixed up her left latte from her right. "No problem," Alex replied. He grabbed a nearby napkin and gestured at the splash dotting the counter. "Here, let me help." In the café's gentle chaos, their hands brushed with a familiarity that seemed odd for strangers. Charlie noticed the golden flecks in Alex's eyes as he wiped his latte's tragic spill. Their routine continued most mornings. Charlie mastered the art of not remembering, and Alex kindly thrived on reminding her. Each visit, they traded quips, getting to know each other's quirks, relishing awkward pauses wrapped with easy humor. "Have you ever, you know, thought about doing something else?" Alex inquired one Friday. They were leaning over the window counter, watching the city’s ticker tape of pedestrians. "Where's the fun in that? Life's a bit too short to take seriously," she winked, tossing another marshmallow into his cup. But Charlie had been considering it — flipping back to a different page. After all, could life really be just lattes and laughs? That afternoon, Alex lingered longer. Conversation ebbed and flowed through their different wavelengths; his mind a tidy schematic, hers a free-falling kite in a storm. Then, under the bright stars of city lights, they made a plan. Dinner at a place where they weren’t the servers. Sure, they barely knew each other, but something felt unstintingly spontaneous. "It’s this Sunday," she texted, then re-read the back and forth with giddy anticipation. He never replied. Sunday came and passed like a wisp of steam, leaving Charlie waiting with a bouquet of daisies and half a bottle of optimism at an empty outdoor patio. Her smile faded with each passing hour as she reread the messages with sore disbelief. "Alex?" Silence. Silence until Monday rolled around like an overcooked espresso still somehow bitter. "Where were you?" she finally asked when he shuffled through the door. His cheeks proposed an apology before his words did. "Charlie, I’m sorry. Things at work got tangled," he stammered, fumbling through an explanation filled half with sincerity, half with uncertainty. "I had a project deadline moved up, and I just spaced." "You should’ve called," she mumbled, looking into his eyes like trying to find the lost hour within the folds of his irises. "I should’ve. Texts just felt…" he trailed off. The conversation paused, both lacking the rhythm from before. She was silent like the moment after a film credits roll, unable to find closure. But then, just as she had forgiven many misplaced orders and mistaken calls, Charlie decided. It wasn’t perfect — none of it was — but then again, neither was coffee art. "How about this,” she offered. “The way I see it, batting average with you stands at two out of three." Alex blinked, for once surprised, precariously balancing between what he had planned and what he needed to learn. "Alright. My treat at Giovanni's," he nodded, adjusting the architectural balance they were constructing. From there, they built foundations and lost track of time once more, together. Charlie the impulsive change-craver now trusted equations written outside corners and deadlines. As for Alex, learning to navigate his spontaneity roots, he realized life's scattered moments with Charlie held as much grandeur as a perfectly laid blueprint. They’d collide sometimes, align at others, all the while leaning on not-so-misplaced heartbeats.