Cafe Latte

Chapter Eight

Meara woke at 3:30 the next morning, and it was so close to 4:00 he didn't bother trying to get back to sleep.

His cupcakes froze well, so he changed into his uniform -- which was really just jeans and an unmarked green t-shirt, which Danny had picked because the color looked good on both of them -- and headed to the kitchen to get started on the order for the party next week.

He clocked in, though it was more just to keep track of how many hours he worked rather than for a paycheck, since he and Danny co-owned and split profits down the middle. But it was good to know how many hours they were both in the store, so they could better decide how to go about hiring more people, if they wanted to.

He put on his music, and with a bounce in his step, he got to work.

It was 5:50 when the knock came on the door. A man maybe his age dressed in business casual was outside. His knees were shaking a little and his arms were crossed over his chest. His face was ruddy. Was it that cold outside?

Meara shook his head and pointed to the store hours. We open at 6:00.

The man squeezed his eyes tight and pressed his hands together, as if praying. Please?

Meara sighed and double checked the clock. Ten minutes. He could make an exception, this once.

He unlocked the door and was hit by a sharp, cold, gust of wind.

"Wow, it's cold out there!" Meara said.

"Unseasonably so," the man said. "Thank you, by the way."

"Sure," Meara said. "My register won't boot up until 6:00, though. It's on a timer. So I can't ring you up for anything for another ten minutes. You can sit in here and wait, though."

The man grinned. "Perfect."

Meara dipped back behind the counter and went back to putting out the cupcakes and things. "You on your way to work?" he asked. He wasn't always the best at it, but he did try hard to make casual conversation with his customers. He'd been told it made them feel more at home, more comfortable, and Meara wanted that feeling of belonging in his shop more than anything else.

"Yeah," he said. "First day. I was going to take the train, but I haven't really been in this area for years and the transit website didn't say anything about construction. Or, I didn't see it." He plopped down in one of the easy chairs and dropped his briefcase beside him. "I'm glad I left with plenty of time for screwups."

"Where are you going?" Meara asked.

"Downtown. To the Loop."

Meara pointed to the right. "If you follow this street, take a right at the light, that bus will take you to the Blue line. It takes about... fifteen minutes? But that'll drop you right at Clark and Lake."

The man grinned and ran a hand through his hair, mucking up it a little bit. But it was nothing a bit of water on his fingers wouldn't fix for him later, so Meara didn't say anything.

The ten minutes raced by, and Meara hadn't noticed because he hadn't been watching the door, but he already had a line forming. He unlocked the door and flipped the sign to open, gesturing them all in.

Meara barely had time to make small talk as he rushed through the line, trying to make it fast for people going to school and work but also trying not to rush people through and make them feel uncared for. Where was Danny? He still hadn't had a chance to brew the decaf drip -- thank god nobody had ordered it yet -- and he could only ring through so many people at a time before he had to switch over to making drinks.