This Place

Six East Lake: Emma

Purple passion flower💜

The door opened to reveal something so pure that Emma knew that never in her wildest dreams could she have come up with a place so homey yet professional, classic yet modern, or so perfectly imperfect.

The lighting was incandescent, with the butter-colored bulbs hanging gently from thin ropes over the booths, and decorative white Christmas lights danced along the walls, giving a chill atmosphere. Also on the walls were faded Led Zeppelin posters and concert ticket stubs tacked haphazardly, and the rest of the walls seemed to be just pictures.

Dozens and dozens of pictures. There didn't appear to be any rhyme or reason to it; no theme was evident.

Emma's curious eyes latched on to photo after photo; a scenic field of wildflowers, a group of teens celebrating a friend's fifteenth birthday making duck faces, an old shed with a rusty red shovel in front, a large, clear lake that stretched on for miles... Emma barely managed to tear her eyes away and follow James to a small booth by a grand window, whispering, "Wow."

There were no other words to describe it. James didn't make fun of her awe, as if he somehow knew exactly what she was feeling.

And maybe he did.

The coffee shop was such a work of art, and it took her a while to adjust to all of the underlying themes and messages of the design.

Slowly she dragged her unwilling eyes from the photographs and focused on the relatively little building's structure.

At a glance it seemed very cozy and small, and while it definitely wasn't as large and fancy as the coffee shops Emma was familiar with, the place felt like home. To the right of the entrance, there were sea green booths lined back to back next to windows that took up half of the wall, and the booths continued along the connecting wall that lacked windows.

To the immediate left of the entrance, there were solid wood tables for two lined up against a wall that was entirely made of windows until it stopped at the conjoining wall. Each round table had a thin vase of daisies in it and, noticing this, Emma had to smile.

The final wall was directly in front when you walked in; pushed to the back of the restaurant. A wooden counter separated the staff from the customers, and when the wall was about half way it stopped, serving as a divider from the kitchen area.

The wood counter continued a little past the divider and took a sharp left, connecting to another wall that picked up right where the other left off until leaving a doorway-shaped cutout with a hand painted sign above it proclaiming, "Restrooms".

James led Emma up to the counter, still grasping her smaller hand in his large one. A handwritten liquid chalk menu hung on the divider's wall, revealing that the soup and sandwich combo was only $4.75. Emma was impressed. The shops she went to had half as much character and triple the price.

She stayed quiet as they looked at the sign, waiting for someone to help them. Would it seem presumptuous of her to jump in and order? Would he want to order for her?

James cleared his throat and looked down to her. "You can order anything you want, but you must try their cappuccino and, if you're up for it, the famous dark chocolate gelato." It was as if he'd read her mind.

Just then, the hostess appeared from around the divider. Her butterfly stickered name tag read Mary, and she had a kind smile on her weathered face with crow's feet around her eyes. Her hair was a fluffy white that continued to cling to some gray pigment. Emma loved her already.