Can You Hear the Ocean?

Chapter 2

"Mia, get that latte and omelet to Table 3," came the gruff, commanding voice of Mia's manager, Todd. "The customer's been asking for it."

"Sorry," Mia said, reaching to grab the drink and hot food from the counter. She balanced the two carefully. Though it had been two months since she'd been hired as a waitress at Cappucino Café, she still found the daily lunch rushes to be difficult, and balancing the dishes was always the worst part of the job.

As Mia pushed open the glass door onto the patio, she left behind the smell of roasted coffee beans and welcomed the scent of the ocean breeze. Every day when Mia worked herself to death in the café, wanting nothing more than to throw her rag down and quit at the end of the night, it was the atmosphere that made her stay. That and the fact she wouldn't be able to afford rent without a job.

Mia quickly located the customer. He was a dark-haired man in a business suit who was presumably visiting on his lunch break. He at first appeared to be writing in a planner, but as Mia approached, she realized he was doodling on a napkin.

Slowly, Mia set down the food at the table.

"Sorry for the wait, sir. It gets busy at lunchtime, and we're short-staffed today," she explained, eyeing the drawing out of the corner of her eye. It was merely some illustrations of the oceanside and buildings of Kennebunkport that had been hastily drawn, and yet, her eyes fixated on them. They weren't bad at all.

"Can I get you anything else?" Mia asked the man, turning her gaze back to him.

"That's all right," he said.

Mia nodded, about to move away, but she lingered in place. "Your drawings are quite good," she noted.

He glanced down at the napkin. "Oh, these? I just draw on napkins for fun sometimes. Helps pass the time. That and my phone died."

"Do you draw professionally?" she wondered.

He shook his head. "Just a fun pastime. Are you an artist?"

Mia opened her mouth to agree, then found herself hesitating. "I got my degree in art and studio design, but I haven't found a good use for it yet—"

"Mia! Stop flirting with the customers and get back to work!" she heard her manager shout from afar. He was delivering food to a separate customer sitting outside.

"Excuse me. Enjoy the food," Mia said, ducking away from the man. She couldn't help but grind her teeth as she returned inside to distribute more food to tables. It was rare she got the opportunity to talk about art. In New York, it had been a more common topic of conversation, but since returning to Maine, Mia hadn't found any way to meet other artists.

In fact, sometimes Mia wondered why she had even returned back to Maine. It had done nothing to aid her in her career. The move had forced her to take a crappy customer service job and scrounge around for some place to live, but it wasn't like she'd had much of a choice. Her lease in New York had ended, it was too expensive to remain in the city, and Maine was the only place she could think of returning to.

"Mia, can I speak to you for a second?" Todd asked as he returned from outdoors.

Mia stopped wiping down a table and followed her manager back into the kitchen, away from the customers.

"Look, I understand you're going through a lot," he said, his voice slightly softer and kinder than it had been a few moments ago, "but you need to get your head out of the clouds if you want to continue working in this position. I lost my father around your age too, but sometimes some hard work helps with the grief."

"I'm sorry," Mia murmured. "I'll try harder. I'm more settled in now than I was when I first started."

Her manager sighed. "All right. Just consider this a warning. Back to work, then."