Wilted Petals

Chapter 7: Caffeinated Chat

It's been 9 years, and Manish still knows how to woo me. Coffee. You know how some dog owners will shake around a bag of treats to get their dog to come back to them when lost? Well, if I ever get lost in the wilderness somewhere, all you have to do to get me to come is to shake a bag of really good coffee beans and call out, "Jaya, come! I'll make you a nice fresh cup using these!"

    The excitement potion inside of me is bubbling so furiously that I'm sure it's going to spill out all over the place. On this frigid night, a nice cup of hot coffee is what I need to kickstart the conversation with Manish and to really feel like I'm warm and where I belong. I feel the saliva pooling at my mouth with each passing thought of how amazing that coffee is going to taste, as well as how fun our conversations are going to be.

    I crane my head over one more time just to make sure all the windows are up and tight in my car. My legs move briskly to avoid being stuck in this cold weather, because I can already feel a little bit of numbness nibbling at my fingertips. The one hope that I have buzzing inside of my stomach is that Manish's apartment is a warm and fuzzy contrast to this harsh weather.

"153, 153," I continuously mutter like a broken record, until I get to the house that is the right one. I secretly hope and pray that it's the right one, because my sense of direction is about as good as a dog's sense of color. With a slight exhale, I push the doorbell and wait for a few seconds.

While I'm standing there, a million thoughts are buzzing around in my mind like little bees. What are we going to talk about? What food does he have? Goddamn, I'm starving. I should've had something light before I came here. Before I can berate myself even more for my appetite, I hear the lock click and see the door swing open. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Manish standing there, with an eyebrow raised in expectation.

When he sees me, his face erupts with his luminescent smile and his contagious joy infecting his eyes. "Jaya, hey!" he greets, as he moves out of the way to let me into his house.

"Good to see you, Manish," I greet, as he closes the door behind me. My eyes dart around to get a good feel of what the apartment is like.

As I drink in my surroundings, the first word that floods my mind is "calm." The warm air circulating the house as well as the gentle aroma of coffee and flickering incense wafting through my nose causes a soothing feeling to wash over me. The ivory walls, complete with the little pops of furniture and pictures here and there cause so much of the worry built up inside of me to dissolve into nothing. The gentle golden lighting and how neat and orderly all of the furniture is really cause a warm sense of comfort to engulf my veins and dissolve the stress that's cemented in them.

I follow Manish to where I assume is the living room, as he asks me, "So, what do you think?"

A little smile curls at my lips, and I say, "It feels so warm and comfortable, Manish. I really like it!" I comment, as he moves to the side so that I can sit down. I notice the giant, soft looking couch and just looking at it makes me want to jump on, get a fuzzy blanket, and take a long nap. Instead, I do the next best thing, which is flop back on it like a dead fish and enjoy whatever food Manish is bringing.

Manish, instead of following me, leads into the kitchen to bring whatever food he has. First, he brings out the coffee for us to drink. I can see the steam wafting out of the beige colored ceramic cups, as the toasty smell floats into my nostrils and causes the excitement in me to crackle even more furiously. "One cup for you," he announces, as he hands me the warm cup of deliciousness. I thank him verbally and with a slight smile, as he prances back to the kitchen.

I take a small sip, letting the drink gently flow through my mouth and trickle down my throat, as I feel the warmth of it crawl up to my fingertips. "Mm, he remembered to not add sugar!" I think excitedly, as a little part of me squeals in slight joy. I see Manish turn back with a plate in hand and he starts to walk over to the table, like a servant serving a queen her meal of quail and caviar.