by Erynn Mangum
“Oh.” He starts grinding a new batch of coffee beans.
I grab a filter to help him. “It was Jen’s idea.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but right then the phone rings. “I’ll get it,” I say.
The cordless is under the front counter. “Thanks for calling Cool Beans. This is Maya. Can I help you?”
“Is there a Jack Dominguez there?” Female voice.
“One sec.” I toss the phone to Jack.
He clears his throat and then answers it. “This is Jack.” I finish getting the new coffee batch ready, disguising my eavesdropping. It’s not that often that Jack gets a call, period — much less from a girl.
He tucks the phone under his ear. “Hey, how are you? Yeah. Mm-hmm. They what?” he almost yells.
I jump.
“What did you tell them? What?! Oh, man.” He covers his face with his left hand. “Mm-hmm. No, I understand. Bye.” He hangs up, but his hand stays over his eyes. “Oh, no,” he mumbles.
“What? What happened?” I’m hopping around him like a little spastic puppy. “What is it? What’s wrong, Jack?”
He sighs and rubs his face before moving his hands. “They never showed.”
“Who never showed?”
“Polly’s owners.”
My mouth drops open. “What do you mean?”
“I mean Polly is still at my apartment’s office building.” He groans now. “Man!”
Poor Jack! “What are you going to do?” I ask, popping the new coffee grounds in the coffeemaker.
“I don’t know. Rebecca, the secretary, called the number I gave her for them, and they said they weren’t coming today, so she asked when they were, and they hung up.”
I don’t know what to do, so I grimace a half-smile at him. “I’m sorry, Jack.”
“It’s not your fault. Want a nocturnal parrot?”
“No. Sorry.”
“Oh.” He sighs again. “Nutkin, I need to go put her back in the apartment, so do you mind if I take off in a few minutes for about half an hour?”
“No, go do it. Sorry.”
A man comes over for a refill, and I dispense a new cup of dark roast for him. I can smell our fresh-from-the-oven scones, and apparently he can too. “Here you go, sir.” I hand him the drink.
“Thanks. What’s baking?”
“Scones.”
“I’ll take one.”
I ring him up and give him a warm pastry.
Jack unties his apron and goes into the back, coming back out a few minutes later. “I’ll be right back, Maya.”
“Don’t worry about it. Sorry.”
He suddenly starts laughing. “Will you stop saying ‘sorry’?”
“Okay.” I wince. “Sorry.”
“Back in a minute.” He leaves.
I wipe down the counter and look around the coffee shop. Nearly all the chairs are filled with people laughing, talking, reading, or busily typing away on a laptop. A group of Cal-Hudson college kids are sprawled out on the two couches by the fireplace, textbooks and notebooks scattered everywhere. I silently thank God I’m done with school.
Jen walks in right then. She’s wearing form-fitting jeans and a soft gray wool sweater that spotlights her blue eyes.
“Hey, Maya.” She comes up to the counter and looks around. “You guys are busy. Where’s Jack?”
“He found out he’s got a parrot.”
“I thought he had a parrot.”
I nod. “He got it back.”
“Oh.” She grins. “Can I have a small English Dusk tea?”
“Here or to-go?”
She sits at the bar. “Here.”
I pull a huge red ceramic mug from under the counter and attach the strainer sack to it. I scoop the loose-leaf tea and dispense the hot water over it.
“So, what are you doing today?” I ask. I hadn’t seen her yet today. By the time I got up and showered, she was on a run, and I was almost late for work.
“I’m about to go to the grocery store,” Jen says, grinning at me.
“Aww, is that why you came in?” I coo.
“Yes, it is. What do you need?”
I dig around for a sticky note and write her a list. She takes the note, reads it, and then looks up at me. “Seriously, Maya?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“All of this is instant dinners and ice cream.”
“It’s cheap!” I say. “And I work out.”
Jen just shakes her head and smiles. “Oh, gosh.”
“Thanks for going to the store.”
She nods. “Sure. What time do you get off?”
“Ten or so.”
“Okay. Travis and I are going to dinner tonight, so I may not be home when you get back.” She finishes off her tea.
Again? “How do you guys afford eating out all the time?” I ask.
“He’s pretty well-off, Maya.” She smiles all sappy-like. “He bought me — ”
I hold up a hand, cutting her off. “Wait, let me guess. Tulips?”
My sarcasm is lost on her. “He’s so sweet, isn’t he?” she sighs. “Well, I’m off to the grocery store. Call if you need something not preservative-chocked.”
“Ha-ha,” I say, picking up her empty mug. “Thanks, Jen. Bye.”
Jack walks up right as Jen is leaving. “Hey, Jack,” she says.
“Hi, Jenny. Leaving right as I get here? That’s nice of you,” he teases and gives her a hug. “Hey, you know what you need?” he asks, one arm still around her.
She gives him a look. “What?”
“A companion. Company. A friend. Someone you can tell even your most horrible secrets to.”
“I don’t want a parrot, Jack.”
He sighs and lets her go. “What if it were free?”
She shakes her head. “They’re messy. And loud.”
“What if I paid you to take her?”
“No thanks,” she says cheerfully as Jack deflates. “I’m sure someone wants your parrot, Jack.” She nods around the restaurant. “Maybe someone here does.”
“Does anyone want a parrot?” Jack yells.
There is suddenly total silence. Everyone looks at him confusedly and then almost at the same time starts their happy chattering buzz again.
Jack shoves his hands in his pocket. “I’ll take that as a no.”
It’s ten thirty by the time I get home and tiredly sit on the edge of my bed to take my shoes off. Cool Beans was busy until we finally shooed the last customers out so we could lock up and leave.
Calvin is hopping up on my lap for some attention, and I sleepily scratch his ears. “Hi, baby. It’s been a long day.”
I lie back on the pillows and yawn, covering it with my wrist. I glance to my left, and there sits my Bible.
How long has it been since I did my devotions?
I pick up the sticky-note-clad Book and frown. It’s been a while. I close my eyes. I’m so tired right now; I could fall asleep in my coffee-scented clothing. Which is a big no-no because then my sheets smell like Cool Beans, and suddenly my work life and my home life are one and the same smell.
That’s bad.
I put the Bible back on the nightstand. I’m so out of it that I wouldn’t be able to learn anything right now anyway.
I find the remote to my little TV instead and flick on the Style Network. Changing into a pair of pajama pants and a cami, I cuddle under the covers and slowly drift to sleep, dreaming of dark-rinsed jeans and jewel-toned tops.
At exactly ten in the morning on Sunday, I fall into a padded folding chair, coffee and Bible in hand. I’m wearing jeans and a thick blue sweater since our cold weather front has been holding for the past few days.
“Morning, Maya,” Andrew says, coming by.
“Hey, Andrew.”
“Good week?”
I nod. “Decent.”
He smiles and moves on to greet the next person walking in. I sip my coffee, looking around. Jack and Jen aren’t here yet, and a group o
f about twenty people mill around, grabbing coffee and visiting.
I’m not very good at meeting new people. I get all freaked out about having to come up with small talk.
There’s a guy I recognize from the past several weeks sitting two empty seats down from me. I’ve never talked to him. Guys are even weirder to randomly just go talk to. Then it looks like I’m coming on to him, which I’m not.
He must notice my fidgeting because he looks over at me. “Hey,” he says.
Oh great. Now I have to talk back. Why am I so good at this at Cool Beans and so bad at it here?
He’s looking at me expectantly. He’s blond and cute, and that makes it even harder to talk normally to him.
I’m mentally going over the five points of meeting new people that Andrew told me when he asked why I never talk to people outside of Jack, Jen, and him.
I wrote it down on a sticky note at the time:
Five Points of Meeting New People:
S — Say hi and your name.
M — Mention interests.
I — Investigate their interests.
L — Laugh a lot.
E — Exit, knowing you made a new friend.
“Hi,” I say back, wringing my hands nervously. “I’m Maya. I’m interested in coffee, chocolate, and snow, and I wish I could paint like Thomas Kinkade, and I’m curious what you like to do.” I try to giggle casually, but it comes out like a staccato version of Cogsworth the Clock on Beauty and the Beast.
He blinks at me.
I rub my forehead.
“Good morning, everyone,” Andrew says, the official opening of our Bible study.
Why did Andrew ever give me that list? It makes it worse!
Honestly, how hard is it to say, “Hi, I’m Maya. What’s your name?”
I’m using both hands on my temples now.
“Headache?” Jack whispers in my ear, sliding into the seat next to me.
“Of course, you show up now,” I hiss at him.
“What?”
“So, why don’t we all quiet down and turn to James.” Andrew is looking right as me as he says the words “quiet down.”
I glare at Jack and grab my Bible.
Forty-five minutes later, Andrew prays and we’re done. Honestly, I didn’t hear too much of the message. I have to drive to San Diego right now to help Zach and Kate get their new house set up.
Mom sent me a text this morning that said, Sweetie, it’s raining so wear something warm.
Swell. Moving in the rain.
I’m probably being really immature and selfish about this whole Zach-moving-back thing. I mean, maybe we’ll get along just fine now.
“You’re grouchy,” Jack says to me.
“Sorry.” I sigh.
“If either of us deserves to be grouchy, it’s me.” He points to his chest. “I called Polly’s owners thirty-seven times last night before I finally got ahold of them, and you want to know what they said?”
“You get to keep her?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t sound so excited.”
“A nocturnal Amazona aestiva. I have a Lab/pointer cross and a blue-fronted Amazon parrot. Does this sound like a future zoologist?” he rants. “No, I might as well have a goldfish.”
“Sorry, Jack.”
“I mean, one of my classmates last year had a capuchin monkey named Felix. A Cebus apella. Can you imagine?” “Not really.”
Jack is off in his own world. “He’s learning so much about the primates; it’s ridiculous. Capuchins are the most intelligent monkeys on the planet.”
“You can probably find someone who wants a parrot,” I say.
“I’ve talked to everyone.”
I frown. “Don’t get mad at me. You’re grouchy, too.”
“Sorry.”
We both stand there.
“So,” I say after a minute. “I actually need to go. Zach and Kate are moving in today.”
“Sorry for getting mad, Maya.”
“Me, too.” I wave and give him a small smile. “See ya.”
There’s a huge Mayflower truck parked in front of a cute redbrick ranch-style house on the street Mom gave me directions to, so I’m assuming that’s Zach and Kate’s new house.
Calvin’s curled up in a little ball on the passenger seat. Raindrops are pattering down on the windshield; my wipers are making a rhythmic swish-swash sound; and I’m fighting sleep myself.
Mom’s standing in the landscaped front lawn in her obnoxiously bright orange raincoat. I can’t help the grin. Zach and I have ragged on Mom about that coat since we were in high school. It makes her look like she’s either working a crosswalk or blocking a construction zone, but for some reason Mom loves the jacket.
She waves as I pull up and park behind the truck. I shrug on my royal blue coat and pull up the hood. Calvin wakes up when the wipers turn off.
“Rise and shine, bud,” I say, opening my door to the chilly, wet day.
“Hi, honey!” Mom yells.
“Hi, Mom.” I wave and wait for Calvin to drag his lazy body out of the car. He squints at the rain and pauses. “Get out, Calvin.”
He huffs his breath out but does as I ask. We walk over to see Mom.
“What are you doing?” I ask her.
She starts walking back to the garage. “I saw you driving up. I just helped Dad, Zach, and the movers take in the entertainment center. I’m waiting for them to come back outside.”
“By ‘help’ she means told us what to do,” Dad says coming into the garage in a black-hooded jacket and pulling on a pair of wet leather gloves.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, honey, how’s it going?” He gives me a light side hug and looks down at my dripping beagle. “Hi, Calvin!”
My dog loves Dad. Calvin immediately starts wriggling all over, running for Dad.
“Where are Zach and Kate?” I ask.
“Inside,” Mom says, pointing to the door leading into a huge laundry room. I nod and walk inside.
The house is gorgeous. Vaulted ceilings, creamy beige paint, white trim, and where there’s not beautiful hardwood, there’s plush carpet.
I hear Kate before I see her.
“Oh, be careful with that,” she says, right before I hear a loud bang and an “oops” in a voice I don’t recognize.
I follow the voices into the gargantuan living room. Kate’s wringing her hands in frustration while Zach and three movers are muscling their very large, very ornate entertainment center into place.
I walk over and smile at her. “You okay, Kate?”
“Hi, Maya,” Kate says. And then she shocks me so much I almost lose control of my jaw muscles. She leans down and wraps me in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m losing my mind.”
I pull it together quickly and hug her back. The only other time I’ve hugged Kate was on her wedding day, and that was awkward because she was wearing yards and yards of white lace.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She leaves her arm over my shoulders. She’s five foot eight and at five two, I guess I make a good armrest. “I hate moving. I hate it so much.”
I’ve never seen Kate this unraveled. Her long, shiny chocolate-brown hair is in a ponytail; her jeans are worn around the edges; and she’s wearing a T-shirt. She has on mascara but no other makeup.
I can’t remember ever seeing Kate in a T-shirt, much less in hardly any makeup.
Zach grunts as he straightens from where he had his grip on the bottom edge of the entertainment center. “Hey, sis,” he mumbles. He’s wearing a sweatshirt and dirty jeans, and he rubs his rumpled hair, arching his back. “I’m too old for this.”
Dad comes in then, hefting a matching end table. “You’re too old for this?” he says, laughing. “Wait until it’s your kid you’re helping move in.”
“I like the house, guys,” I say, still admiring the paint job and the ceilings.
Kate looks around, relaxing for a minute. “Isn’t it cute?”
> I nod. “Very cute.”
“Have you seen the kitchen yet?” she asks me. I shake my head. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
I follow her mutely. Who is this? Kate is not huggy nor is she chatty.
She should get stressed out more often.
She leads me into a good-sized kitchen with lots of beautiful, white-painted wood cabinets and light-colored granite counter-tops. All of the appliances are stainless steel, which contrasts nicely.
“I want to paint that wall a cranberry color,” Kate says, pointing to the wall behind the cooktop. “I think it will add just the right amount of color to this room. What do you think?”
I nod. “I think that would look really nice.”
“And I want to change our breakfast table out for a more bistro-style table in here.” She nods to the little nook area. “You don’t need a table, do you?”
“No, but my friend Jack just eats at his coffee table every night.”
Kate grins. “Well, let him know he can have a real table if he wants one.”
We rejoin the others, and I glance at Kate. That has to be the longest conversation I’ve ever had with her.
“Couches go there and there,” Kate says to the perspiring movers, pointing.
“Katie, where do you want the bookcases?” Zach asks. “Which ones? Medical books or fun books?” “Medical.”
She thinks for a second. “In the study against the east wall.”
I have to hand it to my brother: He’s got the whole Let-the-Woman-Design-the-House thing down.
I go back out to the moving truck and find Calvin nosing around the garage. “Are you all dirty now?” I ask him, looking him over.
“Roo!”
“Apparently.” I shake my head. “Go play outside so you get cleaned off.”
I climb up the ramp into the truck and look for something I can carry. While I have spent many years running, I haven’t spent that much time working on my upper-body strength.
Mental note: Begin lifting weights.
I find a box of towels and carry that in.
Zach and Dad are setting up the mahogany bookcases in the study. “Maya, can you grab me a level? There’s one on the fireplace mantel,” Zach says to me.
“Sure. Towels?”
“Anything you don’t know what to do with, put it in the guest room.”
“Okay.”
