The Café

You're on your way to the café, your usual stop before your errand run on a sunny Sunday afternoon. You stop just outside the door and admire the old fading sign; Cathy's Café. You walk into the café, enjoying the chiming of the silver bell dangling above the door. The café is a lovely little place; ten white cloth covered tables, three black iron chairs with wooden seats to a table, a bar with a grey marble top counter surrounding the back of the café, hiding the bottom half of the white walls, now an odd faded yellow due to the bleaching of the sun. The sweet smell of freshly baked bread and the bubbling of brewing coffee invades your senses. You inhale deeply, a smile spreading across your face. A beautiful café in your beautiful town.

You smile at the waitress standing behind the counter tending to the regular trucker that stops by every Sunday, his day off. You walk over to the table farthest to your left, passing a young man absorbed in his Facebook game, his eyes wandering so fast you wonder if the waitress would cut back on his espresso intake, and two women sitting together, not yet having been served, nothing between them except a centerpiece of yellow roses and red dahlias, the water glittering due to the sun coming in from the windows.

You take your seat and wait to be served, the sun creating a spotlight on your table, brightening your centerpiece. The waitress stops at the boy's table first, taking his cup and refilling it without him looking up or speaking. Must be a refill of his espresso drink. Next, she is on to the women's table.

"Have you ladies been here before?" she asks in her usual too happy voice.

"Yes," they say in unison. The woman farthest from the window looks down at the table, a look of discomfort slowly spreading throughout her body.

"Alright then. What can I get ya? We're having a special today; two bagels and drinks of your choice for the price of one."

"We'll take it. Today's a special day after all," the woman closer to the window says. The woman farthest from the window began to blush.

"Alright, for bagels we got plain, asiago, several berry types, chocolate chip, cin--"

"One plain and one chocolate chip," the blushing woman interrupts.

"Okay...and to drink?"

"Lemon water," they said in unison once again.

"Actually, just regular water," the woman farther by the window says.

"Alright, I'll have those over to you in a little bit." And now, the waitress is on to you.

She asks how your day is going. You tell her it's fine, just out and about running errands. She asks how your family is; you tell her everything is going well. She begins to inform you of the special; you tell her that you don't want it. She asks what you want. You tell her your usual. She smiles at you and tells you the same thing, "I'll have it over to you in a little bit." As she is putting her pen and pad in her apron pocket, you notice her nametag says Cathy. As she walks away, you wonder if the café belongs to her, or if it's a family business, since she looks too young to own a business herself. You push the thought aside and take out your phone. You check your social media, text your friend, check your email, the usual stuff you do while waiting for your usual. You get bored of scrolling past statuses, going through spam and waiting for your friend to text you back. You put your phone back in your pocket and look at the two women sitting two tables from you.

The woman closer to the window has short, perfectly straight brown hair. You notice she doesn't have much makeup on; her face looks rather plain. She is wearing comfortable clothes, a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a simple pair of white running shoes. You wonder if she actually exercises or wears them for fashion.