Blue Glass

Coffee and Chill

June, 1917

"It's good to have you back, Mama." I hoped my voice didn't give away the resentment bubbling in my chest.
My mother gave me but a cursory glance as she limped for the stairs, Svetlana dutifully following her. I watched them go before literally flying out of the house to the mailbox.
Sure enough, the metal flag was lowered. I pulled the small door open and pulled out a sheaf of letters. My hands shook as I reached the ones I was looking for—two worn yellow envelopes with the addresses literally scribbled on the front.
Svetlana was already waiting at the door when I came clattering in, slapping the rest of the mail down on the kitchen table.
"You ought to be quiet," she scolded. "Your mother is already wound up and we don't want to twist her in knots."
I shrugged. "Does she need anything?"
Svetlana sighed. "She asked me to replenish her cigarette stash."
"Tsk, you stay home and rest," I said. "I'll go out and get it, and get some coffee on the way."
"Your mother will question why you've been out." Svetlana gave me her back, heading into the kitchen where she began to noisily wash the dishes still in the sink from the night before.
"And I'll tell her I had to do something for work," I countered.
"You lie so easily nowadays."
"You ought to do what you have to do."
"Who was that on the phone the day before yesterday?" Svetlana's tone was becoming increasingly accusatory.
I bristled. "None of your fucking business."
"Lea—"
I was out the door before she could finish, taking the steps two at a time.
There was no way in hell I would ever share anything about my...relationship? courtship? I wasn't entirely sure what it was between Manfred and I. He made me go completely tongue tied and watery kneed like no one else had or ever could. Still, I was certain that at the very most I thought of him as a close friend, nothing above that.
It was surprisingly cool outside for a July day, and I decided to take advantage of the ample time I had to kill to do some shopping for tonight's dinner. My mother, in addition to being a drunk, smoke spewing, cocaine snorting nuisance, was also an unfortunately picky eater.
Sticking my hand in my pocket to grip the wad of cash I had stuffed inside the night before, I headed straight for the market.

"Ach, Lea, you should've let me help you," Luise said to me as she took the other handful of sacks I was hauling. "You ought to know I have nothing to do these days."
"Why's that?" I asked. "Two children and a man aren't big enough of a chore for you?"
"Not when the man is away on a week long hunting furlough with his colleagues from work and my mother has taken the children to Hungary."
I arched an eyebrow. "Hungary?"
"Frische luft, that's why. All the pollution gets to be too much for the children sometimes. At least, that's what my mother says."
"So it's just you now?" I asked as we turned onto my street.
"Me, and my sister is coming from Munich to stay with me."
"I'm sure you'll lack for nothing to do then," I said a bit more dryly than I intended. "Do take care of yourself, Luise. I'll see you tomorrow."
I made sure to bang the door with exaggerated vigor upon entering, predictably bringing Svetlana running.
"Keep it down," she said frostily, eyeing the groceries critically. "Did you bring the cigars?"
"All in good time," I said, adjusting the collar of my dress in the mirror.
"There was another call on the telephone," Svetlana said from behind me. "It was that man you work for...Helmuth Something."
"Weber?" I cast a glance to the phone. "What did he want?"
"Beats me," Svetlana said, scowling. "I told him you'd give him a call back, and he left it at that."
"Spasibo." I headed for the door. "Remind me to get to that once I get home."
Svetlana and I spoke Russian together when my mother wasn't home—it was the reason our friendship was rooted so deep. Svetlana had come into our house not knowing a word of German; while my mother frequently lost her temper at her, I did my best to teach her, and at the same time tried to show interest in picking up some Russian. When my mother was around, however, we spoke German and tried our best to ignore my mother's disparaging remarks about Svetlana's thick Russian accent.
The chimes above the door to the coffee parlor jangled disconcertingly as I pushed the door open. Fraulein König, the 24/7 bartender, gave me an amicable wave as I approached the counter.
"You look like you have a stick up your ass," she said bluntly.
I snorted. "For once, you're right. Multiple ones, in fact."
She smirked and leaned over the counter, peering at my feet. "It's a wonder they still touch the ground. In any case, you might want to prepare yourself to accommodate one more. We've run out of coffee."
I groaned. "No."
"If you'd like ersatz coffee, I'd be more than happy to fill you up with that." She gestured to the singing coffee pot on the stove in the back. "There's more than plenty to go around."
"I was hoping for something stronger," I said, reaching into the pockets of my coat for change. "My mother's out of the hospital."
Her face fell. "You poor dear. All alone in that house with a Russian and a stooped drunk. What you need is a man to carry you out of all that. Such a pretty, intelligent girl as yourself should never be in such a predicament."
"A man?" I balked. "You'd think I should know better after what happened with my father."
"Siegfried was a dog." Fraulein König shook her head. "Not every man you will meet will be like him. And Klothilde was a fool to let his charms sweep her off her feet. Thankfully—" she tapped my forehead. "—you haven't inherited her stupidity, just her looks."
She gave me her back and headed to the back. I watched her fill a ceramic mug to the brim with steaming coffee and carry it back to where I still stood with a fistful of coins.
"You, my dear, have a brain. Use it."
I gave her what I was sure looked like a very sickly rendition of a smile and proceeded to shuffle my way back to the table all the way at the back of the cafe.
Dark coffee sloshed over the top of the mug as I set it down, scalding my fingers. I winced disapprovingly, using my coffee stained hand to tear open Manfred's letter, spreading the contents out on the small table.
You ought to come to Germany one day...
My stomach began to twist itself into knots as my eyes hungrily scanned the page.
Seeing as you travel a lot, you ought to have been to at least Berlin...
I smiled to myself. How the hell did he know I travel a lot?
So I forgot to mention this when I called you last time, but I ghostwrote a book...
Now that was something commendable. I made a mental note to thoroughly search for the book on my next trip to Germany.
To be honest, I feel you would be able to properly critique it, as you seem like someone who possesses good intellect. Only know that the government may have adjusted things here and there to give it a bit more—
"Who's that from?"
I gasped, slamming my hand down on my letter—or at least making a good attempt at it. My open palm came down on my coffee mug instead. The white ceramic mug teetered precariously before toppling over onto it's side with a loud thud, a wave of dark coffee engulfing Manfred's letter like a tsunami.
I watched the brown liquid merge with the black ink on the brittle paper, glueing it like a pressed leaf to the oak tabletop.
Fraulein König took in my stricken expression, looking as horrified as I did.
"I'll clean it up," she finally eked out, turning tail and darting into the back room to fetch a towel.
I stared at the mangled piece of paper atop the table and did my best not to cry.

"Lea, what a pleasure." The stooped owner of the tobacco store gave me a conspiratorial smile as I entered, reeking of coffee beans. "Are we shopping for the mother again?"
"Yes, and for someone else as well."
He nodded and went for the assortment of boxes stacked neatly on shelves built into the wall. "Two packs of Gauloises, correct?"
I nodded wordlessly, watching him place them on the counter before me and accept the crumpled bills I handed him.
"...three, four—oh,wait, I haven't given you these."
He handed me a glossy black cigarette case with a sly wink. "Consider it a gift. Good day, Lea."
I dipped into a grateful curtsy and hurried out of the shop. The sun was low in the sky, and I was quite a ways away from my house, but what was I going home for? I had nothing to look forward there, too.
I sat down on a nearby bench beneath a street lamp and pulled the box out of my pocket, as well as a small lighter.
The smoke tasted sweet in my mouth as I inhaled and exhaled, releasing whatever negative emotions were bubbling inside of me into the air along with the gray vapor.

A/N: hopefully this chapters a bit better uwu
Spasibo; thank you.(in Russian)
Fraulein: miss