by June Kramin
Chapter Thirteen
Bix’s cell phone rang when they were about half way into the movie. After looking at the phone, he answered with a friendly hello. “What’s up, Bobby?”
Ellie paused the movie as he excused himself from the couch and went over to the desktop computer as he listened to what Ellie thought seemed like a windy explanation.
“Well, what did you do that for, you moron?” Bix asked, chuckling into the phone. He rapidly typed away at the keyboard as Ellie lost her fight with curiosity and abandoned the couch to see what he was up to. The screen was filled nothing but letters, numbers and symbols. There were several paragraphs of what looked like codes. There were different types of brackets used and slashes of all sorts. She watched in awe as he typed away in different areas in a language that made Greek look like preschool writing.
“Change the color while I’m there? To what?”
She watched as he pecked away with more codes throughout the screen.
“Is that it? You sure?” After another pause he minimized the screen and typed in an address at the bar on the top of the screen.
Another amazing website came up and Ellie was once again in awe of his talents.
“Looks fine to me now. How’s it look to you?” After a moment of silence he chuckled. “All right. This one is on me, but keep your ass outta my code. You want something done, just call me, all right, Bobby?” After another pause he said, “Okay. Will do. Good night.” He spun around and looked up at Ellie. “Bobby sends his love.”
“How did he know someone was here? I didn’t hear you say anything.”
He pointed to the top of the computer screen. “Webcam. Sorry, I didn’t realize I had it on.”
“I was on camera?”
He laughed. “You didn’t flash it or anything. What’s the big deal?”
“That’s an unwelcome surprise. I look like death warmed over.”
He spun around and maneuvered the mouse until a screen popped up. She could now see the image that the camera was showing. Bix closed it down and sighed. “Women.”
“Women, what?” Ellie stood there with a straight face and crossed her arms.
He spun around again. “You’re always worried you look like hell. For your information, you look beautiful, even in that ratty hoody.”
As she’d never received a compliment well, she chose not to respond to his comment. “Were all those symbols and stuff really some kind of code for that site?” she asked as she pointed to the screen.
“Yup.” He spun around yet again and brought the screen back up. “It’s really easy to figure out once you know what you’re looking at. See that command?” he asked as he pointed to a line.
“It’s just ‘red’ with the greater and lesser than around it. Is that how you made the page red?”
“That’s the start of it. Here’s where I tell it to stop.” He pointed to another line with a backslash in front of the word red. “That slash means end the command.”
“I’d never sift through that in a million years.”
“If you set your mind to it you could.”
“I’ll stick to frothing milk, thanks.” She returned to the couch.
He joined her. “Not to go back to a school subject, but did you learn that on the job or did you go to training?”
“I went to a couple of day courses at a coffee roaster and another couple days with the espresso machine people in Minneapolis. There’s a lot to know about coffee and that ten-thousand-dollar machine.”
“Does everyone have to do that?”
“No. I train the employees now. Fred and Ginny hired me as the manager and wanted me learn as much as I could. I can and have had to replace a few parts on that machine. If we had to get a repair man, it’s about a hundred bucks an hour starting from when he leaves Minneapolis.”
“Where does one go to coffee school around here?”
“Duluth. Nice family operation. They are really great people.”
He leaned in with a serious look on his face. “I know I said I wouldn’t pry, but I really have to know something.”
She rolled her eyes. “You just promised me — ”
“Hear me out.”
“Fine. What?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“What the hell is a macchiato?”
She laughed hard. “That depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
“Officially, a macchiato is just the shots of espresso and a dollop of foam.”
“A dollop?”
“Yes, a dollop. You know.” She made a small single whipping motion with her hand. “Just a dollop.”
“What’s the point of that?”
“I dunno. Ask the French. Now, back to macchiato; if you go to a big chain coffee shop and I’m not giving you any names — ” She coughed as she said Starbucks into her hand. “ — They will make you a super sweet caramel and vanilla latte. I believe it was Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail that made that a big seller for them.”
“I take it you don’t care for their coffee.”
“Nothing personal at all, I just don’t care for chain anything. I’m a small town girl and always will be, I suppose. I like to support the little guy. Seems to me they tend to try harder. I learned by the book and I like to educate people to use the right terms. I still get the teenyboppers wanting a cappuccino like McDonald’s makes. I cringe when I hear that. I like to call them crap-puccinos.”
He laughed. “Coffee snob.”
“I’m really not. Mostly I stick to regular coffee.”
“But I bet you have a favorite.”
A slight smirk came over her face. “Of course I do. I love Nicaraguan.”
“Never tried it.”
“You a French Roast drinker?”
“Love it.” He seemed thrilled that he actually knew one of her terms.
“Then you probably won’t like Nicaraguan. It’s more of a medium roast.”
“Oh. I’ll try it anyway just because you said so.”
She glanced back to the screen that was now flashing the DVD logo on it. “I think it’s not in the cards for us to watch this movie.”
“Wanna go for three out of five?”
“No.” She stood up. “I think I want to kick your ass at Age of Mythology.”
“Bring it on, coffee girl.”
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning Ellie made her way upstairs, dressed and ready for the day. She was happy to see it had finally stopped snowing and the wind had died down considerably.
Bix greeted her with a mug filled with coffee as she entered the kitchen. “Good morning, sunshine.”
“Good morning. Did you sleep okay in the spare room? I really wish you let me give you back your bed.”
“I slept fine. No worries. You ready for breakfast?”
“How about you guys let me cook this morning?” She looked around, suddenly aware of the fact that Gramps wasn’t in the room. “Where’s Gramps?”
“I think he’s coming down with something. He was up for a minute, but went back to bed. He went in super early last night, too.”
“That’s too bad. I hope I didn’t get him sick.”
“You didn’t have a cold, it didn’t come from you. I don’t take him for the type to be down for long. I’m sure he’ll be up and around by lunchtime. If you still want to cook me breakfast, I accept. Gramps has me spoiled.”
“Let’s see what you have for supplies.” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a block of ham, some shredded cheddar cheese and a package of mushrooms. “Where do you keep onions? Or are you not an onion fan?”
He went over to a free standing decorative wooden box that had “Taters-N-Onions” etched on the top. He took one out and gave it to her. “Load ’er up.”
She had him help by shredding fresh potatoes and added hash browns to the menu.
After they ate, Bix pushed back his chair and rested his hands to his stomach. “A guy could get used to eating like tha
t every day, Ellie. Damn awesome omelet.”
“Thanks. Sunday breakfast was always on me. I love making omelets.”
“You’re hired.”
She laughed. “Gramps is a great cook. He’ll fatten you up in no time.”
“You think I need fattening up?”
“I didn’t say that.” She grinned as she stood up and removed the plates from the table. “You just look like you were built to wear business suits.”
He stood and lifted up his shirt and tightened his abdominal muscles. Damn, she wished he hadn’t done that. “I’ll go three rounds with any of your farm buddies there, doll face.”
“Who?” she asked, spinning around and pointing a butter knife at him.
“Sorry. Ellie.”
She spun back around to rinse the dishes. “Pffft. I could hog-tie your ass in under eight seconds.”
“You want to put your money where your mouth is?”
“I’m not wrestling you, Bix. I’d hate to bruise that delicate ego of yours.”
He walked closer to the sink and put his hand up to the faucet, which made water spray all over the front of Ellie. She let out a scream and grabbed the sprayer, turned around and quickly doused him with it. Bix seized it back in no time and tried to turn it back on her.
“What in tarnation?” They froze at the sound of Gramps’s voice in the doorway to the kitchen. “Can’t leave you young’uns alone for just one morning.”
Bix let go of Ellie with a start. He had held her by both wrists with her arms above her head and had her pinned to the sink with his hips. “Sorry, Gramps. I’ll get it cleaned up.”
“My guess is you will while this little lady gets going on one of them omelets for me,” he said with a broad smile.
“Good to see you’re feeling better already.”
“Ready to take on the world, or at least ready to go get your car out of the ditch. Looks like it’s going to be a decent day.”
“Do you know if the plows went by yet?”
“I heard them about four a.m. The roads should be good and cleared. Give me a half hour with Bessie after breakfast and we’ll get you on your way.”
“That’s great.” Ellie smiled at him, but it was forced. She turned away so her disappointment wouldn’t show and began to chop the items for his omelet. This house was too much fun. Even through all her small tiffs with Bix, she really hated to leave.
Getting the tractor going took a little longer than Gramps thought. It was almost two hours before he brought it to the porch. Bix and Ellie hadn’t minded. They sat up in the tree house for a while and talked about nothing. It was a good twenty degrees warmer and things were already starting to melt. She opened up a little about her brothers and their mischief, but hadn’t mentioned the accident at all. Bix reminisced on his few memories of this farm. His mother hadn’t returned here often after his parents split up. She visited them when her busy schedule allowed it and only if she was sure his father wouldn’t be around. Bix’s father had accepted how Bix felt about him and never pushed for visitation after the first year of moving out. Trips to see Gramps were left up to his mom, which she did out of respect and love, but it still wasn’t all that often. He was never given the chance to get to know many of his cousins, as much as he would have liked and was looking forward to rekindling the family relationships after moving here.
“You know it’s going to take them a while to get over the thought of you being a city slicker, right?” Ellie said as they were climbing down when they heard the tractor horn wailing.
“You’ve been a good warm up for that.”
Ellie remembered to run back into the house to grab her purse before they met Gramps at the tractor.
“You think if Ellie gets you out there that you can bring it back, boy?” Gramps asked when they finally reached him.
“Oh, I see how I rate. You trust her to drive it before me?”
“She has the experience, you don’t.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Ellie asked.
“It don’t take three. You two will be fine. I have chores to do. I attached a couple shovels on the back, you might need ’em.”
Ellie gave him a kiss on the cheek and a strong hug. “Thanks for everything. Can I come back and visit sometime?”
“I’d like that very much. Come back anytime. Show him how to handle ol’ Bessie. I don’t want her gears stripped or anything horrid in the mile he’s drivin’.”
She laughed. “I will.”
After Gramps went in the house, Ellie sat down on the tractor seat but scooted to the side. She patted the seat. “Come on there, Slick.”
“You want me to drive?”
“I trust you. I’d rather you have a feel for it on the way out than just abandon you on the way back.”
“I can drive it, you know.”
“I’m sure you can. I just like humoring an old man.”
“He’s going to miss you.”
“And I him.”
“What about me?” Bix asked.
“You’ll get to see him every day.”
“I meant about missing me.”
“I know what you meant,” she answered as she again ignored his question and focused her attention ahead. “Let’s get going.”
Chapter Fifteen
They would have missed her car completely if Ellie didn’t know exactly where she went off the road. The drifts were horrible in the ditch and the plows only added to the mess. Bix let Ellie work the bucket to remove the worst of it then they dug the front end as clean as they could with the shovels. When it was clear enough to get the chain under the car, Bix attached it and Ellie unlocked it with her fob. She maneuvered the tractor and pulled it out of the ditch and up on the road while Bix steered.
“You think it’ll start?” Bix asked.
“It’s a new battery. I would think so.” She climbed in behind the wheel. It gave a little bit of a protest when she turned the key, but then it started right up. She got back out and walked over to Bix. “Thanks again for the computer lesson. It was very helpful.”
“You’re acting like this is goodbye.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I wasn’t planning on it. You promised to show me a few things, you know. I was kinda hoping to make a snowmobiling date.”
“Maybe some weekend we can, as long as you don’t call it a date.”
“Does this mean I get your phone number now?”
She looked into his eyes for a long while before daring to show a slight grin. She walked to her purse and retrieved a business card, wrote her cell number on the back, then gave it to him.
He smiled when he looked at the card.
“What?”
He pointed to the bottom line. “The website is right here on the card. How did you not know?”
She snatched it from him and looked at it. “Crap. Just didn’t pay attention I guess.”
He didn’t want to upset her, but he couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Drive safe, Ellie.”
“I will. Thanks.” She turned and walked away without chastising him for the kiss. He watched as she drove away, already plotting his next move.
Almost an hour later, Ellie’s phone went off. The caller ID revealed the name “Computer Geek.”
“You programmed your number into my phone?”
“I thought you may need it.”
“Don’t you know a woman’s purse is off limits?”
“It was on the counter and I couldn’t resist. I just wanted to make sure you made it home okay. Actually, Gramps is nagging so you can’t even be pissed at me.”
“The roads are fine now although my driveway was a mess. I was lucky to make it to the house. I have to head to work though and will deal with it later. Fred let them really fall behind in coffee and I really have to get my ass in there. Apparently, the main city roads were taken care of well enough and business wasn’t affected much.”
“That’s good. I won’t keep you; I just
had to make sure. Gramps was worried. Have a good day, Ellie.”
“You too, Bix. Goodbye.” After she hung up, she held the phone to her chest. This was going to be bothersome. The last thing she wanted was to start liking the guy.
Ellie was surprised when she arrived home after work and discovered her driveway had been plowed. After she parked her car in the garage and made her way to the house, she found a note on her back door.
Hope you don’t mind the lousy plow job.
I figured I could use the practice on ol’ Bessie.
Think I still need a little more. ~Bix
Crumpling up the note, she uttered a “Shit.” Her phone rang and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind whose name she’d see in the caller ID. Before she could even say a word, he spoke.
“Sick of me yet?”
“I was sick of you two days ago, now I’m annoyed.”
“The plow job that bad?”
“No. Thanks for that. I’m beat and wasn’t looking forward to having to do it.”
“Oh, I like doing it.” Ellie could almost hear his grin on the other end. She refused to fall into his play on words and wished she had chosen hers more carefully.
“I just walked in the door and I’m beat. I have to hop in the shower and turn in early.”
“Want to go to dinner?”
“I’m not going on a date with you, Bix.”
“I didn’t say date. I said dinner.”
“Is dinner not a date where you come from?”
“I come from where you come from and no. Two friends should be able to eat a meal and it not be considered a date. You have to eat.”
“I ate a late lunch and I’m not very hungry,” she lied. “I’m really tired. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll just take a rain check. All right?”
“All right. Sweet dreams, doll…Ellie.”
“Good night, Slick.” Ellie hit end before they dragged out the goodbye. She reached into a basket on the counter and pulled out a doll a friend made her years ago. It was called a “Damnit Doll.” It still had the short poem around its neck that read, This Damnit Doll is just for you, you need only find a place to slam it. As you whack its stuffing out, yell, Damnit, damnit, damnit! She did slam it on the counter three times saying “Damnit,” but she didn’t feel better when she was done. She tossed it back in the basket and headed for the shower.
