Winter is My Season

One: Another Holiday Season

I wait for the coffee to drip, each drip from the roasted coffee bean makes a small, timid sound as it lands from the flask into the cup. The smell of the coffee wafts heavily in the coffee house, its invigorating odor awakening my senses. I can't help but smile as I take a sip of the drink, allowing my tongue to savour the liquid before swallowing. "Just right."

"I can never understand why you appreciate coffee this much." The familiar voice says and I turn around to face him. My father leaned on the stairs that led to my coffee house, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

"Dad," I smiled. "would you like some?"

"Sure, your coffees are the best." I beam excitedly and got to work immediately.

"It's going to get busy here and I think I need some caffeine before it starts." My father takes a seat just in front of me on the island.

"I heard the temperature dropped drastically this morning and there's going to be a snow storm."

"Yeah, we already have about customers coming in this morning. It's hard to drive in this weather."

"Dad, I'm thinking of delivering free coffees to the rooms every morning. I thought it would be a great thing to do for our customers." I have been dying to share with my father about my plans ever since I thought about it the previous night. "Imagine, how a cup of coffee could bring so much warmth in this cold."

My father laughed. "Free coffee? That's good, but isn't it a little expensive, including the fact that your coffee beans are on the premium side?"

"Hey," I argued my stand. "Not a lot of people have been coming to my coffee house due to the its price and I thought if people tried my coffee, they would start paying visits. It would boost sales as well."

"Well, you can try it out. I guess it will work." My father nod approvingly. I couldn't contain my excitement and planted a kiss on my father's cheek.

"Then I shall execute my plan today!"

My father chuckles as he shakes his head at my passion.

-

I knock on the door that has been rented out to a family of three. Three hot coffee stood on my tray, smoke rising into the surface. I made three different types of coffee; espresso, latte and a flat white. I never believed in matcha latte or any sorts that accompanies with a fusion of flavours as coffee should be made on its own to bring out its unique essence. I did not have to wait long before someone opens the door. She was a lady in the forties, her long blind hair falling in neat waves to her chest.

"Hi, my name is Zara Clifford. I'm the owner of the coffee house located in the basement. I brought some complementary coffees that I hope you and your family would enjoy." My heart raced nervously against my chest.

She took the tray from my hands and smiled in appreciation. "Oh, how nice of you, thank you!"

"Please do visit my coffee house sometime and I would appreciate if you have any feedback." I clasp my hands together and smile.

"Definitely."

I was jumping over the rainbows at my first successful attempt as everything that I have planned has started off smoothly.

I hurry on back to the basement to make more servings of coffees for the other customers, my mind suddenly flowing with ideas of learning to bake pastries that can go well with coffee.

"I heard you have some big plans." I did not even hear his footsteps and my younger brother Zach prop his elbows on the island and studies my actions.

"Dad told you? Don't you think it's pretty amazing."

"I wouldn't say its that amazing,..."

"Hey!"

"But," he raises his hands in mock surrender. "it's worth a try."

"That sounds more like it."

"With your confidence, I can't think of anything that you aren't capable of."

"Thanks." I ruffled his hair in appreciation.

"Hey! Don't mess with my hair." He protests and instinctively ran his hand through his hair to neaten them.

I laugh at his self-obsession with his hair. I am just like him, though, absolutely particular with how I present myself. It runs in our blood.

Ending off with a simple heart shape on the surface of the foamy part of the coffee, I made my way to deliver the coffees to the next room. My mother is standing diligently at the lobby of our inn, attending to a group of customers. She talks with a serious tone whenever it comes to work-related business, her glasses lying on the bridge of her nose accompanied by a straight face. As if sensing my presence, she turns to my direction and gave me a quick smile in acknowledgement, before shifting her sttention back to the customer in front of her.

I scurried off and made my next two rounds of giving out free coffees before returning back to my coffee house. Just as I walked past the main lobby, a familiar figure caught my eye. I squint through the frosted window panes, trying to get a good look at the person. His physique was vaguely familiar like someone I had always known. However, I was unable to get a clear view of him and brushed the thought off.

My coffee house was usually empty, but this time there is a lady seated patiently waiting for her orders to be taken.

I quickly apologised. "I'm sorry for making you wait. Can I get your orders?"

"Can I have a hot cappuccino?"

"Sure, I'll be right back with your orders."

As I am busy brewing the coffee, I heard another set of footstep and wondered if there were more customers coming in. I did not glance to see who the person might have been until I was finished with the order. Only when I am about to serve the coffee and finally looked up from my work zone, I could have been sure that the cup would have slipped from my hands if I was holding it up.

Right in front of me, just a few inches away, is Calam Wells and my mouth opened wide agape in shock.