Blankish Slates | Moonfall Vol. II

The Coffee

Jerry peered through the open door of the busy Empress Coffee House, his nose wiggling in ecstasy as he inhaled the delectable smell of every brew under the sun with a side of fresh pastries. Among the patrons he spotted a flash of violet over grey-white fur near the front of the line and knew he was in the right place.

He lingered near the entrance, squeezing his hands during the seemingly eternal wait as Cleo put in her order and eventually received it. Once the snow leopard strode away from the counter, coffee in her right hand and purse tucked into the crook of her left arm, Jerry felt a dire compulsion in his legs that catapulted him in Cleo's direction. Before he knew it, he was barreling toward her at a speed that nearly guaranteed a disastrous collision.

"I swear I'm not a pervert!" Jerry cried, skidding to a halt.

Cleo teetered, catching herself before she could stumble over the smaller feline. "Jerry!? What on Earth would possess you to start a conversation like that? And how did you find me?"

"I remember Mr. Crystal saying you were a freak of nature that only drinks coffee from Empress Coffee House." Jerry grinned sheepishly, realizing his folly. "He said 'freak' quite affectionately."

Cleo pursed her lips. "I'm sure he did." She pointed a thumb to a quiet corner of the coffee house where a small, polished table of wood was nestled between a wide window and a brick wall the color of bleached hazelnut.

They sat down on the vinyl seats and Jerry waited for Cleo to get settled with her purse and coffee before he rewound the conversation.

"I swear I'm not a pervert!"

"You really need to elaborate or stop saying that."

"I really messed up with Mr. Crystal. Maybe beyond repair."

A hint of sourness wrinkled Cleo's nose, as if she were disappointed that she could be surprised another impromptu meeting with Jerry would inevitably turn to Jimmy Crystal.

"What did he do?" she asked.

"Not him, me. I messed up." Jerry pulled at his collar, eyes sweeping the coffee house. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I... kissed him."

Cleo dropped the paper cup back onto the table before ever sipping it. "Oh. Oh, that's juicy. You should've led with that." Jerry felt her reading the anguish on his face. "I'm guessing that didn't go so well."

"He threw me out of the house. Not literally!" he added, seeing her shock.

Jerry regretted not getting his own coffee, if not to settle his nerves, then as an excuse to sip it now and then to break up the awkward silence, the anxious idleness that came between tackling such a strange subject. Why was he talking about this? And to her of all people? He never hated Cleo as a person, but he did resent her all those years ago for having what he never could with Jimmy.

His train of thought was broken when the coffee cup slid into his field of vision.

"I think you need this more than I do."

Jerry wanted to do the polite thing and refuse, but who was he kidding? He gripped the cup with both hands and took a sip, letting the piping hot liquid with traces of cinnamon and milk roll down his gullet.

"I'm going to need you tell me exactly what happened between you two," Cleo said, "and don't leave out one juicy morsel."

Throat still burning, Jerry felt refreshed, as if the coffee made way for the words he needed to say.

"After the Hornsby brothers and I escaped security with Mr. Crystal's art from the Crystal Entertainment storage warehouse-that story is a bit of a detour, don't worry about it-my attempt to cheer him up didn't work. You were right about the alcohol. He was drowning in a bottle of bourbon and turning into a shadow of himself. I knew I had to get that bottle out of his hands, so I took a chance and cooked a quick dinner for him."