Café Euphoria

she's not a girl who misses much

"Hello?"

"Are you coming tonight?" she glances at her watch. 7:48.

"I'm not feeling it."

"You have got to be shitting me."

"Nope." She said popping the "p".

"Shit," she heard shuffling. "It ends in three days. You aren't here one of these days, your ass is getting dragged and I don't care what you have going on or where you are. And you know I am not kidding."

"Alri-" the line went dead and she was talking to air.

Noted.

She stares at the manila folder while she lazily traces the rim of her mug. She didn't want to open it. Yet she did. All and nothing was in the folder waiting, and also not caring, if she opened it. A contradiction.

"Can I get you anythin' else?"

She looks up at the waitress and gives a small smile "Actually, can I have the special to go?"

Cafe Euphoria is a small cafe owned by Linda Goode. For almost 35 years, Linda has made the place true euphoria. The music is a mix of everything from pure Dave Matthews sounds to Motown to Mozart to The 1975. It ranged from anything to everything. The cafe had couches so plush, you could almost fall asleep in the spot. Best of all the food and coffee was superb. It was indescribable.  It also helped that Linda was one of the kindest persons she has ever met. Kea's been a regular for years.

"Sure thin'." Also, if it wasn't for Linda's cakes, she doubted they would have stayed in business for this long.

The waitress comes with the cake, red velvet, and the check. "Thanks."

And for a second, Kea's mind goes back to the manila folder. Curiosity killed the cat.

Drowning the rest of her coffee, she pays, puts the folder in her bag, and leaves. But the cat has nine lives right?

***

It wasn't that she didn't want to go. She did. For years, Bowie has been trying to convince her to take a chance, stop being a wuss, and go to the biggest and certifiably scariest haunted house in all of New York City. In her words, "It's gonna be the fucking scariest, most amazing fucking haunted house you're ever going to see. Deadass!"

Kea didn't doubt that. But as much as she wanted to go, she couldn't. When Miguel called her, she stopped everything and headed straight for his office. He gave her the folder and told her to read it where she was alone.

So she did what he said and headed straight to her apartment, leaving her best friend behind, not telling her a word. Miguel was the only person she told because she couldn't know without his help. He was a private investigator.

Walking up the steps of her apartment, her heart sped up. His features in a look of concern and his eyes pitiful. It made Kea feel so sick. She didn't need or want anyone's pity. Especially that of a friend.

When at her doorstep, her hands shook as she put the key in the lock. She turned the key and walked in.

Putting the folder on the kitchen island, she took a deep and long breath. I don't know if I can do this. The folder had a lone name written in the right corner. Ramiro Villanueva. Her father's name.

Kea's father abandoned her and her mother when she was only a month old. He had told her mom that he was ready to be a father. That he would stay with her until the end. That he would raise his daughter and support his family. That he would love her and their daughter until the day he died.

Then he left.

What kind of love was that?

To be truthful, she's not a girl who misses much. Kea can see the look in her mother's eyes; a sadness- knowing everyday that her child looked so much like her father - was a product of their love and he was gone. All Lucia Santos was left with was a reminder of her lost love. And it pained Kea to know she caused that pain.She didn't miss her father. She didn't think she could when he left to let her mother work hours on end to provide for her. 

Over the years, Kea made sure that no one asked about her dad. If they did, she said he died and before the conversation stopped and they give her a pitying look, Kea would do something "accidentally". As a result, no one knew that for the better half of her life, she searched for him. There was no reason as to why she did. She just wanted to appease this ache in her chest whenever she thought of him.

Picking up the folder, she thumbed the file.

"Here goes nothing."