Cup of Joe

by Teri Wilson

  She needed her. Plain and simple. The part that wasn’t quite so simple is how Joe had known exactly what she needed. Of all people, he had been the one to look into her heart and see what would bring her back to life. Not her friends. Not anyone else in Turtle Beach. Not even Care Group. Just Joe.

  The thought gave Goldie pause.

  And a fluttering sensation deep inside.

  “Why are you so skeptical?” She directed her question at Eve. “I thought you were rooting for some kind of love connection between Joe and me.”

  Joe and me. The very words tasted strange on her tongue, but not at all unpleasant. Perhaps it was something she could grow accustomed to, like the rich flavor of coffee.

  “Hey, the guy is clearly enamored with you. That’s all I was trying to say.” Her wide-eyed look of faux innocence told Goldie that Eve longed to say plenty more.

  “What?” Goldie’s impatient voice caused Bliss to waken with a start in her lap. She patted the little dog’s head in apology. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

  Eve sighed. “I love you. You know that. So, please don’t take this the wrong way.”

  Goldie swallowed and wondered what was coming next.

  “For years now your whole life has revolved around the big guy. I know you loved him dearly and wouldn’t trade all those years with him for the world.” Eve nodded with sympathy.

  Goldie buried her fingers in the warm scruff of Bliss’s neck and resisted the urge to scream. Love him, not “loved” him. I still love him and always will.

  “But, now he’s gone and it is time for you to move on. You can do whatever you want. Go back to school, travel the world, get an exciting job. This is your opportunity to embark on whatever adventure God has planned for you.”

  “People with jobs have dogs,” Goldie answered flatly. “So do people in school. And people who travel.”

  “I know. Keep the dog if that’s what you really want.” She shrugged. “I’m just not so sure if you should keep Joe.”

  “What?” Peggy, who had been uncharacteristically silent up until this point, almost jumped out her chair.

  Eve held up her hands to shield herself. If Goldie hadn’t been so drained by the topic of this conversation, she would have laughed at Eve’s efforts at self-preservation. How many times had they joked before about how they were both secretly afraid of Peggy? Too many to count. She might be elderly, but she was no “little old lady.” Not by a long shot. One time Goldie had even seen her threaten a pair of total strangers with her knitting needles when she overheard them make a racial slur about a nearby child. Goldie had recounted the scene in great detail for Eve on more than one occasion. Every time, Eve had shuddered with mock terror. Judging by the look of fear in her eyes now, Goldie thought perhaps some of that terror had been real.

  “Nothing. Never mind,” Eve squeaked out. Her gaze darted around frantically. No doubt looking for the pointy knitting needles.

  “Oh, by all means continue. Tell us exactly what is wrong with that sweet man.” Peggy crossed her arms and stared daggers at Eve.

  “Well, first of all, I agree that he seems very nice.” Eve flashed a shaky smile and perched on the very edge of the recliner, looking ready to bolt at the first glimpse of knitting needle. “But don’t you find him the slightest bit, well, old-fashioned? I mean, have you been inside his coffee shop? It’s like a museum. Hello? Has the guy ever seen a Starbucks?”

  “Oh, please. This is Turtle Beach, not New York City,” Peggy countered with a satisfied smirk. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with old-fashioned values. Things like kindness, loyalty and good manners,”

  “Since when is it considered good manners to bring a dog to a funeral?”

  That did it. Peggy and Eve bickered and talked over one another until Goldie couldn’t tell who was saying what. There had never been so much yelling in the house since her Grandpa had accused George Brown of cheating at Checkers at their Fourth of July party when Goldie was in eleventh grade.

  In the middle of it all, Goldie sat completely silent and stroked Bliss’s long, copper ears. Part of her longed to add her two cents to the conversation. She wanted to tell them about the fancy caramel coffee drink Joe had brought her that very morning. If asked, she could describe the drizzled caramel G in excruciating detail. She would have explained how that exquisite beverage was the result of his daily quest to get her to drink coffee. Without ever realizing it, she’d come to rely on his presence every morning on the front steps. It gave her new lonely life one constant source of companionship, even though at times it was through a closed door.

  She thought about trying to explain how something in his warm chocolate eyes told her he understood her grief down to its core. And that those same sensitive eyes always sparkled with humor when he looked at her Sponge Bob pajamas or fuzzy pink slippers.

  Most of all, she wanted to say that it was Joe’s presence—and his rather unexpected gift—that had gotten her through one of the worst days of her life.

  But in the end, Goldie said none of those things. She didn’t know what was happening between her and Joe, but whatever it was felt deeply personal. Almost sacred.

  So she said nothing at all.

  Cup of Joe

  Inspirational romance, Christian romance, Christian fiction, romance novel, christian romance novel, teri wilson, white rose publishing

  Cup of Joe

  Chapter Four

  Goldie wasn’t sure how it happened. One minute, she was out for a morning stroll with Bliss bobbing at the end of her new, pink patent leather leash and the next…

  Well, the next minute she found herself hovering at the entrance of Joe’s Coffee Shop. What was she doing here? Her intention had been to head over to the Turtle Beach Library to check out some books on dog training and puppies, maybe even learn a bit more about Cavalier King Charles Spaniels.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of the bright yellow awning with Joe’s name marching across it in big letters. How had she gotten here? It was as if her feet had walked here completely of their own accord.

  She glanced down at Bliss. “Please tell me this was your idea. You dragged me here, right?”

  The spaniel looked up at her with melting, doe eyes.

  Yeah.

  Like this little thing could drag anyone anywhere.

  Goldie took a deep breath and tried to acknowledge that she must have walked here of her own free will. While her mind had been a complete whirlwind of phrases like “it’s time to get on with your life,” her feet had chosen to follow her heart instead of her overcrowded head. And she’d ended up here. On Joe’s front steps.

  Quite a little turnaround.

  Goldie glanced at her watch and noted that if she walked quickly she could get home in time to catch the beginning of her game show. But, when she looked back up, she noticed a young woman with a shock of red hair staring at her through the window. She stood behind the counter, dishrag in hand, and seemed to be waiting for Goldie to step over the threshold.

  Sorry, Cary.

  Goldie gulped and opened the door.

  She was greeted with a chorus of woo-woos from Java, who shuffled over from his dog bed to greet Bliss with a wag of his tail.

  “Morning, Java.” Goldie scratched the Husky behind his pointy ears, all the while keenly aware of a pair of eyes watching her with great interest from behind the counter. “Good morning,” she said to the red-haired girl.

  “Oh, hi.” The girl dragged her gaze from the white silk scarf tied around Goldie’s ponytail and offered a warm smile. “You must be Goldie.”

  “Yes,” Goldie answered, feeling more self-conscious by the minute. “Um, how did you know my name?”

  “Joe’s mentioned you a time or two. I’m Cinnamon, by the way.”

  Was it Goldie’s imagination, or did Cinnamon seem exceptionally happy to see her? She looked nearly as excited as the audience members of the Oprah show when she gave out all the free goodies. What did she call it? Her favorite thin
gs episode.

  Good grief. I watch way too much daytime television. Everyone’s right. I really do need to get on with my life.

  Goldie, suddenly filled with the heady knowledge of what it must feel like to be the all-powerful Oprah, fiddled with the end of Bliss’s leash. Before she could stop the flow of words spewing from her mouth, she asked, “He mentioned me?”

  “Oh yes.” Cinnamon nodded with a grin. Then she waved her hand in the direction of the large chalkboard hanging over the counter. “Plus you’re on our menu.”

  “What?” She must be having some sort of hallucination. Either that or she’d been so distracted by the sight of Cinnamon’s unfortunate nose ring, she’d heard wrong.

  “Your drink. The one Joe named after you.” She wiggled her fingers toward the chalkboard again, this time with a flourish. “See? Right here.”

  And there it was. In black and white for the entire world to see.

  Goldie’s Latte Macchiato. $3.00.

  She was sandwiched right between Black Coffee and Espresso. And my, she wasn’t cheap either.

  “Oh. Goodness.” Goldie read and re-read the words to make sure they were real.

  She blinked. Hard.

  They were still there. “I’ve never been a menu item before.”

  Cinnamon smiled even wider. “Would you like one?”

  Goldie tore her gaze from the chalkboard menu and tried to form a coherent answer, which would have been much easier if she’d been paying attention to the question. “Excuse me?”

  “Would you like one?” Cinnamon asked. “A Goldie’s Latte Macchiato? Your drink.”

  A giggle escaped Goldie’s lips. It was so strange hearing her own name in the title of a beverage. Strange, but nice. She decided she quite liked it. “Yes, please. I’ll have one Goldie’s Latte Macchiato.”

  “Coming right up.” Cinnamon winked at her, then added in a tantalizing whisper, “And I’ll let Joe know you’re here.”

  “Um, OK.” Goldie tried not to blush, but a warm flush crawled up her neck and made its way to her cheeks.

  And, to top it off, her nose started tingling at the sound of his name.

  Her gaze flitted once again to the blackboard and her name drawn there in white chalk. She tilted her head to admire it, as if it were an exquisite piece of art. It certainly stood out from the other offerings on the menu. There wasn’t a single other name up there. Not even Joe’s. Just hers.

  What did it mean?

  Was Eve right? Could Joe possibly be attracted to her?

  “So, what do you think?” A voice snapped her out of her thoughts. The voice of Joe himself. She stopped gaping at the chalkboard and directed all her attention toward him.

  He pointed at the menu and grinned. When he smiled, his eyes crinkled in the corners in a most appealing way. How had she failed to notice this before? “It’s…quite a surprise actually.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “A good one I hope?”

  “Of course. It’s very sweet. Thank you.” She reached toward Cinnamon’s outstretched hand, which held her steaming coffee drink topped with a generous portion of whipped cream. Of course.

  “Wait just a minute.” Joe intercepted and took the cup in his own hand, causing Goldie’s fingertips to graze his with a feather light touch.

  She pulled her hand away and wondered if he felt the same sizzle when their fingers met.

  “You can’t drink this yet. It’s not finished.” Joe picked up a slender bottle with a fine-tipped nozzle and drizzled a delicate stream of caramel over the top of her drink. His hand was remarkably steady and, before Goldie even realized what was happening, he’d created a perfectly shaped G atop the whipped cream.

  So the initial had been his idea.

  Wow.

  “Here you go. All yours.” He held the cup toward her. She reached for it, careful not to touch his hand this time.

  “So do all Goldie’s Latte Macchiatos come with the fancy G on top?”

  Joe’s smile turned sheepish. “No. That’s a special touch.”

  Goodness gracious. “I can’t begin to thank you enough for all you’ve done for me.”

  “No thanks necessary.” There it was again. That familiar gleam in his eye. The one that made her feel as if he had really known her all along.

  “I disagree. Plenty of thanks are required. Especially for this precious little creature.” She nodded her head toward Bliss, now splayed belly-up on the ground.

  Joe came around to the front of the counter and scratched her tummy while Java watched with a cocked head. “So you two are getting along?”

  “Fabulously. She never lets me out of her sight. It’s very comforting.” Without warning, Goldie suddenly felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes.

  Would this ever stop? Today she finally felt better. More like herself than she had in days. Then it was back. A fresh wave of grief.

  If Joe noticed, he disguised it well. He stood from where he was crouched on the floor beside Bliss and glanced around the shop. “We’re pretty slow right now. How would you like to take the dogs for a quick walk on the beach?”

  Goldie felt the yes rise in her heart before she even had a chance to give the question any thought. It was at that moment she realized part of her hoped Eve was right about Joe. Not the part about him being all wrong for her—good grief, no! The part about him having feelings for her. “Sure. That sounds nice.”

  “OK. Let me grab Java’s leash and we’ll go.”

  Two new customers filed in while he disappeared for a minute. As Joe returned, worn leather leash in hand, one of them placed an order for a Goldie’s Latte Macchiato in a booming voice. Goldie’s head turned at the sound of her name, but no one seemed to notice.

  Except Joe. He winked at her as Cinnamon went to work once again at the espresso machine.

  This is so strange. Strange, but nice. She wondered if she sat here all day in Joe’s Coffee shop listening to people order her drink, if she’d ever grow accustomed to it.

  Somehow, she doubted it.

  “You know what?” Joe said as he held the door open for Goldie and Bliss. “Your intense dislike for coffee may be the best thing that ever happened for my business.”

  Goldie took a sip of her drink and grinned. “So I guess that makes us even.” Hardly. But it was the only clever response she could come up with on short notice.

  Joe guided her along the winding sidewalk beside the coffee shop that led to the sandy beach dunes. Goldie could hear the ocean, even smell it, before she actually saw the sun’s rays dancing on the crystal clear water. As far as she looked in either direction, Goldie couldn’t see another person on the isolated strip of beach.

  They walked over the dunes where the sand was soft, like fine powder, and closer to the water. The cool ocean breeze ruffled the dogs’ coats and blew Bliss’s ears straight backward. She looked as though she could fly. Once they reached the packed sand of the shoreline, Joe and Goldie fell in step beside one another. Bliss and Java crept out in front, trotting and wagging their tails. Every so often one of them pounced on a seagull shadow drifting across the sand.

  For a long moment, neither Goldie nor Joe said a word. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. It felt comfortable, peaceful. Goldie wondered if right then—walking on the beach with Joe and his dog—her own eyes held that familiar glimmer of affection she’d seen so often in his.

  “Can I ask you something?” Joe asked, breaking the silence.

  “Sure.”

  “I couldn’t help but notice the obituary in the paper listed your name as Teresa.” He paused. Goldie suspected he wanted to make sure she felt comfortable discussing the obituary. She nodded to signal she was fine.

  Joe continued, smiling so his eyes crinkled in the corners again. “So how did you get the nickname Goldie?”

  “Grandpa.” A tender feeling came over Goldie at the memory. “From the time I was a little girl, he always called me Goldilocks. Eventually, it got shortened to Goldie. Now
that I’m an adult, I guess it seems strange to be named after a fairy tale character.”

  “No. Not strange. I think it’s charming. It suits you perfectly.” His gaze traveled the length of her blonde ponytail and over the wispy curls that had bounced free in the salty wind. “Does it bother you to talk about him? So soon?”

  “No. Strangely enough, it feels nice.” It was the truth, she realized with a wistful sigh. “He was such a huge part of my life, I can’t imagine not talking about him.”

  Joe stopped walking and turned to face her. His dark eyebrows and the tips of his thick eyelashes were laced with a fine layer of salt from the ocean breeze. At Goldie’s feet, Bliss danced on her hind legs and batted her front paws for Goldie to pick her up. But Goldie couldn’t seem to look away from Joe.