***
The flakes of snow were slowly falling to the ground, covering the city with the white blanket sewn from millions of snowflakes. It was that time of the year. The one preceding the joy of holidays and filled with some distant feeling that next year will be the one everyone was hoping for.
Yet, once that sacred moment comes, the blanket may tend to melt, the snowflakes turn into drops of nature’s tears on the ground, and some gray skies start frowning at everyone from above. That some holiday spirit for you, winking and grinning, saying in a mocking tone: “Did you really expect this time it’ll be different?”
But that time has not yet come, waiting patiently for its stage appearance behind the curtains. The weather was frosty enough, sunny enough and had this pleasant crunching sound under everyone’s soles.
The lights were on, the smell of pines was all around, and the stores were making nice profits, pretending to sell a fair share of happiness with a discount.
Ruminating about the way of life and what every individual was really celebrating, a man was sitting in the cafe on the corner of the crowded street, sipping his latte and watching people coming and going.
The cafe door opened and the tiny bell above it made its ding-dong sound, supposed to be welcoming, but in reality making newcomers shrink a little and have an expression on their faces saying: “I’m just sneaking by, nothing to see here, keep staring at your plates and cups, please.”
A woman stepped inside, shaking off snow from her massive boots covered with metallic buckles. She briefly glanced around, touched the tip of her nose red from the cold, winced and moved towards the counter.
“Bonjour, madame!” - Barista’s smile was ready to cut his head in two.
“Um-m… Hello.” - The woman got confused but just for a short moment. - “I don’t think I speak that language.”
“That language speaks for itself, madame!” - The smile somehow managed to grow. - “How may we treat you on this wonderful day?”
“Just a cappuccino, please.” - She tried to ignore the barista's accent and the way he talked and pointed at one of the pictures above the counter displaying various types of coffee. - “That one.”
“Excellent choice!” - He looked like the happiest person in the world who’s just got a little bit happier. - “Our specialty! The whole place is named after it - Café de la vie!” - He gestured at the tables. - “Do take a seat, it will only take a moment.”
“I wasn’t planning on staying actually.” - The woman looked a bit annoyed. - “Can you make it to-go, please?”
“Oh…” - The smile got surprised and was about to fade away, but was able to activate some inner resources and shone again. - “Very well then. I’ll be right back.” - He turned around and, humming something joyfully, commenced his coffee machine magic.
“Mathilde?”
The woman turned around, hearing her name, and squinted at the man, approaching her, the one with the latte, pondering about the holiday spirit a moment ago. - “Robert?” - With some hesitation, she seemed to be recognizing him.
“Yep.” - He produced some sort of an apologetic smile, as if being confused by himself too. - “It’s me.” - He looked at himself and spread his hands a bit, like confirming his words.
“Wow… Hel… Hi!” - It was more of a question though. Both of them got that awkward look of two people that haven’t seen each other for many years, not having the slightest idea on how to address and talk to the person in front now.
“It’s been quite a while, huh?” - He adjusted the collar of his sweater, not knowing what else to do or say.
“Yeah…” - She took a step towards him, her arms twitched in that weird movement when you’re not entirely sure if a hug would be appropriate or considered too much. - “Quite some time.”
They both gathered the remaining bits of confidence and cautiously touched each other’s shoulders, then stepped back like confirming that all the necessary rules of decency had been complied with.
“How you’ve been?” - Mathilde’s face was clearly saying: “I’m sorry for that question, but I’m all out of other ideas”.
“Good… Pretty good. And you?” - Robert’s face replied: “You don’t say, I’m in desperate need of something more original myself”.
“Not bad… Everything’s fine.” - A deadly silence started crawling into place right after that phrase.
“Your cappuccino, madame!” - Barista’s voice suddenly came to the rescue, although he had been observing the scene for some time already, curiously switching his gaze between the two.
“Right, yes. Thank you.” - She took her cup, quickly paid for the coffee, then turned back to Robert. - “So…”
“Would you like to… join me maybe?” - His hand went up with great uncertainty, extended a slightly trembling finger and pointed at his table.
“Um-m… I was about to…” - Mathilde showed him her “to-go” cup, like a smoking excuse in her hand.
“Oh… Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” - What for, he had no idea. - “I won’t be keeping you then.”
Once again, they froze awkwardly, staring at each other.
“Although…” - She pursed her lip, pondering. - “You know what? I’m not in such a hurry.”
“Really?” - Robert seemed to be genuinely surprised. - “Then should we…”
“Yeah… We could…”
“Madame has changed her mind?” - Barista kept being the savior of the day, dispersing the awkwardness like a shiny day clears the gray rainy clouds. - “Perhaps, monsieur would like to order something else then?”
“Another cookie, please.” - He replied almost instantly.
For the first time since she entered the cafe Mathilde smiled sincerely. - “Still are a cookie monster, aren’t you?”
“I just can’t hold myself. Cookies are too powerful.” - For the first time since they started talking Robert said what he was really thinking.
“And for madame?” - Came another inquiry from the barista’s side.
“I’ll take this…” - She pointed at the pastries behind the glass. - “I think it’s called pain au chocolat?”
“In our region it’s called chocolatine, madame. Which is the only true name.” - For a brief moment barista turned into a disappointed and tired of life teacher, though maybe it was just someone’s imagination as he reappeared in his usual look quickly after. - “But you couldn’t know of course.” - There is a chance he meant to say: “You must know such things!”. But let’s not focus on it. - “Take a seat, I’ll bring you your orders right away.”
Slightly off-balanced by the pastry terminology lesson, Mathilde and Robert glanced at each other, shrugged and went to their table.
“Have you come back or…” - She asked him while taking off her scarf and coat.
“No, not really. A business trip. Well, sort of.” - He shook his head, looking aside.
“A business trip? Never thought there’s much business in our city. At least, that’s what you used to say before.”
“Yeah.” - His hand waved vaguely. - “Just felt the need to deal with a few things quickly, that’s all.”
“Busy man, aren’t you? Managed to accomplish those plans you had on your mind back then?” - Mathilde wrinkled her forehead, remembering. - “What was that? A consulting agency with several branches to open later on?”
“You can call it like that.” - Robert kept avoiding her eyes. - “It’s doing well, I’d say. Lots of work, but I can’t complain.” - He coughed and changed the subject. - “What about you? Last time we saw each other you were about to go full-speed on the activists’ work. Something about saving sharks?”
“Whales. Common, you couldn’t forget that!” - She laughed and added. - “At least be creative about your mocking.”
“I’m sorry. Always thought someone should take care of the sharks as well.” - He leaned back on his chair. - “So, what about those whales?”
“Well, we did save a few. Then found some other animals to rescue.” - She sighed quietly and continued. - “Went to several countries, took part in a bunch of protests, demonstrations, manifestations, you name it.”
“No way!”
“Yeah. At the end I got tired but not beaten, so my never-resting soul was able to create some kind of a local foundation to run our little angry operations from home.” - She spread her arms. - “And here I am, not on a wild run jumping from one part of the world to another and waving “Save the nature” flag over my head, but typing and posting the same slogans online. The audience is larger, the final results are short-termier, but one has to settle in sooner or later.”
“Hence the glasses I assume?” - Robert nodded at her. - “Never thought I’d see you wearing a pair.”
“And I never thought I’d see you without them.” - She looked at him inquiringly.
He seemed to be confused, slightly ashamed even, then finally muttered. - “Laser correction.”
“No! You?” - She couldn’t hold her laugh. - “You were always scared of it! No, no, no, not scared. Terrified. Do you remember…”
“Yeah, yeah.” - He interrupted her, blushing. - “I remember…”
“I have to say it out loud.” - Mathilde placed her hands on the table and leaned forward, looking Robert in the eye.
“Fine…” - He waved her off. - “Go ahead, make me suffer.”
She carefully straightened up, cleared her throat theatrically and declared, imitating his voice. - “If I ever do a laser correction, I promise you a dance wearing full ballerina outfit, makeup included. That’s how determined I am to never do it.”
“Word by word, damn it…” - Robert puffed out his cheeks. - “I was thinking about it during the whole procedure, hoping I never see you again.” - He quickly corrected himself. - “Well, not literally… I mean, in another sense…” - Seeing that it was too late for excuses, he just waved it off. - “Whatever. Long story short, after almost losing my consciousness several times in a row, my eyes got lasered and, voila, au revoir to the glasses.”
“Bravo. You almost speak like a native! Almost!” - Barista appeared out of nowhere, bringing their orders. - “One chocolatine for madame, one cookie for monsieur.” - Gracefully turning around and walking away, he added at the end. - “I wouldn’t mind watching your ballet performance.”
“Can you stop…” - But he was out of reach already, leaving them alone. At least, it seemed so.
“What’s wrong with this fellow?”
“No idea, cookies are great though.” - Robert shrugged and took a bite.
“So, tell me now.” - Mathilde started grinning. - “What made you do the surgery?”
“Not what, who. My girlfriend.”
“Oh.” - That took her by surprise. - “Even that.”
“Mhm.” - He confirmed, having a mouthful of cookie. - “She didn’t like the way I looked wearing them. Said either her or glasses.”
“Wow! That’s some radical measures.”
“Honestly, I would have chosen the glasses any other time.” - He chuckled, looking a bit sad. - “But it was that period of my life when something inside tells you to step out of your comfort zone. I sort of stepped into shit shortly after, but, well, at least I don’t need to wipe the lenses every time I enter a building on a rainy day.”
“Ugh, tell me about it.” - Mathilde winced, then added. - “You two are still dating?”
“Every day.” - It was his turn to sneer. - “She’s my wife now.”
She got silent but only for a very short moment. - “You mister keep surprising me.” - Then she pointed her finger at him. - “Married or not, you still owe me that dance.”
“You won’t let me get away with it, do you?” - Seeing Mathilde shaking her head playfully, he crossed his arms over his chest. - “Speaking of promises. I can’t help but ask…”
“Uh-uh.” - She was chewing and threw up her hand in protest. - “That one doesn’t count any more. First, you’ve a wife now…”
“You had your moment to shame me, so don’t even think I will spare you mine.”
“Oh fine, you vengeful one!” - Mathilde waved at him with her cup, like making a toast. - “Common then, hit me.”
Robert copied the gestures she was making a few moments ago, straightening up and clearing his throat. - “If I’m not married to some idiot by the time I’m forty-three, I’m gonna marry the only idiot I see at hand right now.” - He made a thoughtful look. - “I’m trying to recall who was that idiot at hand back then.”
“Really? You want to go that way?”
“Well, at least you don’t have to wear any ridiculous makeup.” - He raised a brow, inviting her to speak further. - “Well?”
“You know well enough that I was drunk like hell that night and came to your place cause Tommy was mad at me and I’d nowhere else to go. Happy now?”
“Some consolation.” - He pursed his lips, evaluating the results, then asked. - “What’s with the second argument?”
“What?”
“You said that one doesn’t count because, first, I have a wife. I guess there is something second?”
“Well, what do you think it is?” - Mathilde chuckled. - “You think you’re the only one who got ringed up?”
“Don’t tell me that’s Tommy!” - Robert got so excited, he even rose above his chair a little.
“Ahem.” - She grimaced, then said in a formal voice. - “It’s Thomas now. And stop with this overreaction. What’s got into you?”
“I guess I’m just… Don’t know, expected you to…”
“To leave him and then to have three husbands in a row just for fun? Each in a different country? Nah, we had our fair share of screaming and shutting the doors but ended up getting used to each other.” - She shrugged. - “Then, one summer evening we were sitting on the roof, sipping beer, I asked - should we get married, he replied - hold my beer, I’ll go grab my grandma’s ring.”
“Lady, we haven’t seen each for ages, but you underestimate my ability to sense when someone’s lying. Remember we used to play that game, telling lies to each other and guessing which part was true? One thing I always beat you at.”
“Ok, ok.” - She threw up her hands, conceding. - “It was a tiny bit more traditional. Tom’s a cop after all, respectful family and yada, yada…”
“I’m glad you two kept your relationship.”
“Yeah.” - She avoided his gaze. - “Thanks…”
They both got silent for a while, looking aside, then produced a slightly strange conversation, resembling more a Q&A session between the two.
“Have kids?”
“Two, a boy and a girl. You?”
“In about three months.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. So, you’re still living in the same place?”
“Nope. Bought a new house. Got ourselves a loan around the necks, but who doesn’t? What about your big city life?”
“Well, apartment. Big enough for now. But something tells me, I have to start planning for the future. Can’t say I have lots of free time for it, but who does?”
“Have you heard anything from Philip?”
“Not really, tried to stay in touch, but you know how it is. First it’s “let’s call each other every week”, then it turns into a month, then half a year, and some time after you suddenly notice that your messenger has only two chats per year with “Happy birthday!” and “Thanks!”. And Jessica? You two were best friends.”
“You’re kidding?” - Mathilde almost choked on her coffee. - “Last time we saw each other we were about to tear each other’s hair out. I have to admit though, she was more reasonable than I and even contacted me some time after, suggesting to “restore our friendship”. And I said “Yeah, let’s…”. And then our nice little talk just died out. I heard she moved somewhere south.”
The conversation was turning into a mundane talk and started fading away. The cafe was quiet at that time of day and the barista drilled the pair with his gaze, like a professional detective suspecting some plot thickening. The cup he was holding was as dry as it could ever be, but he kept violently wiping it, producing some squeaking sounds.
Gathering cookie’s crumbs on his plate with a spoon, Robert made an attempt to break the silence. - “Well, I guess we shall…” - He stopped talking, noticing that Mathilde was looking him in the eye, nervously tearing the napkin into pieces.
“I…” - She said quietly after a pause. - “I didn’t really move into a new house.”
“Oh…”
“And I don’t have kids.”
“Oh…”
“And Tommy married Jessica in the end…”
Robert was about to produce another “Oh”, but decided that two was enough. - “I see.”
Mathilde placed her chin on her clasped hands and kept looking at him. - “Your turn, mister.”
“Shit…”
“Losing your grip you’re. Or did you think I’m always going to pretend you’re a better liar than me?” - She smiled. - “Common, I’m counting.”
“You wicked being…” - He sighed, then continued. - “My apartment is not really that big. And besides, I can't say I’ve much plans for the future.”
“That’s one.” - She bent her finger.
“No kids are being expected.”
Taking a sip of coffee, she showed him another finger going down.
“You know the final one already.” - He glanced at her, trying to look slightly offended. - “But have it your way. Enjoy your moment of fame. I’m not married either.”
“Hah! I knew it!” - Seeing that some of the visitors started looking at them, Mathilde lowered her voice. - “Why do I have a feeling there’s more?”
“Well, technically, the consulting agency was not a direct lie. I did have it some time ago. Opened one additional office even. Then there was some economic instability that later on produced a full-scale crisis, then Lucy (the girlfriend that made me fix my eyes) decided I couldn’t handle it and left, saying she needed a stable future, then I sold the offices and…” - He made a pause, then shot the last phrase like a bullet. - “And I opened a dog shelter.”
This time Mathilde fully choked on her pastry and its bits flew directly at Robert. - “Say…” - She kept coughing, trying to speak. - “S-sa…” - He was getting worried about her and moved forward, but she stopped him with her hand, finally managing to speak, half laughing. - “Say it again.”
“I opened a dog shelter.”
“With the money you got from selling your business?” - Her laughing got louder.
“Yes.”
“I need some time to process that.” - Mathilde threw her head back, dropping her arms at her sides, as if taking some rest after all the choking.
“Process away. But only after you tell me more about your foundation.” - He drummed his fingers on the table.
“Damn it. I hoped to keep this one hidden.” - Seeing his tilted head and slightly raised brows, demanding her to confess, she came clean. - “There is no foundation. Never was. I didn’t really travel around the world. Just some local trips here and there. We also didn’t rescue any whales. Only a couple of dolphins… which got eaten by the orca shortly after we set them free.”
“And…”
She muttered something that sounded like cursing and finished. - “I’m an accountant now.”
To say that Robert’s grin was pleased with the situation would be a total understatement. He extended his arm, producing a speech. - “You were supposed to fight the system, Ildie, not join it.”
“Shut up.” - Yet she couldn’t hide her smile. - “Maybe I’m working under cover, preparing to bring it all down from inside.” - She quickly showed him the tip of her tongue, grimacing, then added. - “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I missed that name.”
“You punched me in the face the first time I called you that!”
“Of course! There were people around! And I was on the cool kids side. And cool kids shouldn’t be called Ildie.” - She shook her head. - “I guess I still owe you an apology though.”
“Nah, don’t stress about it…” - His grinning came back. - “You always hit like a girl.”
“Oh yeah? And you took it like a real man, crying in the toilet for half an hour. I could hear your sobbing from outside.”
“I’m glad you were listening.”
“And recording.”
“You evil witch…”
“And uploading it to our college group.”
“Nope, that one is a lie.”
“Fine, you’ve got me there. Still have the recording though.”
“I haven’t doubted you for a second.”
They both got silent again, looking at the snow falling slowly behind the window.
“What happened to us, Ildie?” - Robert finally asked quietly.
She produced some sort of a “pf-f-f”-sound. - “Life. What else could it be?”
“You know what’s weird?” - He kept aligning crumbs on his plate, drawing something only he knew what. - “All that time back then, when we were friends… Well, I hope we still are, but you know what I mean.” - He waved with his spoon and Mathilde nodded quickly, letting him continue. - “What I mean is, you were with Tommy and I…”
“Susan?”
“Susie, yes. I was with her. At least till I left, chasing my grand plans. You know that already.” - The spoon continued its crusade against the crumbs. - “But before that, you remember, they both were getting so mad about the two of us all the time. Jealousy or whatever. Every time Tom saw us together I had a feeling he was about to beat the shit out of me, and something tells me Susan had similar intentions in her mind regarding you.”
“Well, I tried talking to her, but then I felt there was a catfight afoot and decided to back down and walked away. I didn’t want you to have more problems.”
“Yeah, I know. I wish I could say the same about me and Tommy, but, man, I was scared of him. Big guy and all… So, I was mostly avoiding him, postponing the talk I had been planning to have with him sooner or later. But the thing is, I never even thought of going any further with you. Everyone kept saying this bullshit about the friend zone and that “you can’t just be friends with her” and I… Damn it… I just felt good and had a great time when you were around. I know I may sound like an arrogant selfish idiot, but…” - He made a sound, resembling both chuckling and sobbing. - “I didn’t really need anything else.”
“Same here.” - She smiled sadly and raised her hand, as if confirming his words. - “I guess that makes two arrogant selfish idiots of us.”
“I guess so.” - Robert sighed, finally leaving the crumbs alone.
“I felt all that too, Rob.” - Mathilde stared somewhere above his shoulder. - “What’s with all the dating and keeping your distance? Never understood that. We’ve been best friends since what, four?”
“Five.”
“And then everyone suddenly got so worried or angry about us. Or both. But if I don’t give a damn, why should they?” - She suddenly looked at him. - “Wait. Is that why you left? Your business plans came rather unexpectedly, if I’m being honest.”
“At that time I thought I’d always wanted this.” - Robert shrugged, looking slightly bewildered. - “Now I’m not so sure. Maybe it all just got mixed up in my head. Was like a click. Back then with Susie, we were dating more out of habit, so I said to myself that we better just rip these bandaged relations off. And you could move on with Tom then. I thought you two were making a great couple.” - He chuckled. - “And it wasn’t even this stupid romantic sacrifice feeling, with me going away and letting everyone be happy. I wish it was. But I was simply glad that my best friend found someone great, making a nice couple. Yet everyone else kept telling me some garbage about how sorry they were or how dumb I was.” - After a pause he added. - “I do regret leaving though. Still think I could explain all that to the others, so they would understand.”
“I felt something was odd about you when we saw each other last time on the station. But you looked rather confident back then. And I thought it was a good thing. Chasing your dreams and all. Plus you kept grinning like crazy and making jokes every second.”
“I couldn’t stop. They just poured out of me. Till I got on the bus.” - Robert glanced at her, then switched back to his empty cup. - “I was staring at you from behind the window, watching you standing there, on the station, while the bus was driving away. Still with that idiot smile on my face, which froze there and couldn’t leave it. And I kept thinking: common, turn around and just go, go to Tommy, tell him I left, please, go. And then,” - His voice broke. - “I started crying. Neither expected it, nor could do anything about it. It just came out of me, like a jet from a fountain. The only thing I managed to do was to press my face against the elbow bend and grab it with the other hand, squeezing it like that to hold back the tears which were coming out in bursts. The whole bus watched my performance which lasted for quite some time. Then I got sick, and you can imagine the reaction to that after all the pandemic news. I really thought they were about to stop the bus and kick me out, but the driver happened to be a stubborn fellow. Said he was on schedule and had no time to lose. By the time we arrived, there was a dead zone around my seat. Well, at least I had plenty of space.” - He looked both confused and sorry. - “Here’s my manly story for you. I doubt you can beat that level of shame.”
“Challenge accepted.” - Mathilde drained her cup and placed it on the table. - “I don’t remember anything between the moment I was staring at your stupid bus and the next morning. Wait for it.” - Seeing that Robert was about to speak, she stopped him, raising her hand. - “I got drunk. And not just drunk. Like for real drunk. The kind of drunk that you remember for the rest of your life, but have no clue what exactly was happening in the process. Woke up at Tommy's place, cuffed to the radiator, wearing some parts of the college football team’s mascot. Some very small parts of that penguin. The rest was torn to shreds, lying all around. The room was a mess as well. Tom said he had to cuff me, otherwise the damage would have been more serious. The neighbors were about to call the police, but, surprise, he was a cop himself. My lucky day.” - She wanted to take another sip of coffee, then realized the cup was empty and put it aside. - “He refused to tell me what happened, said I better not know. We had a very long talk the next day, leading to, you’ve probably guessed it already, breaking up. I went on a few trips to save the planet, got bored with all the high hopes and low results, came back, found out that Tommy married Jessica and went south, searched for any job at hand and ended up being an accountant and wearing glasses. Don’t have cats yet, but start thinking about getting a couple of hamsters.” - She bowed as if finishing her scene. - “End of story.”
“I’m impressed. Truly.” - Robert showed her his palms. - “May I clap?”
“Don’t forget some flowers. In pots.” - She added at the end. - “I’m all for protecting nature, remember?”
“How could I forget?”
Another pause squeezed in between them. Though this one was much less awkward and slightly more warm-hearted.
“You remember our favorite anecdote?” - Robert asked finally.
“Two cowboys betting each other a hundred they couldn’t take a bite of turd?”
He nodded, smiling lightly. - “Then they did it and realized both had just eaten shit for free.”
“Proud of ya, partner.” - Mathilde made a pistol with her fingers and shot at him.
“Likewise.” - He threw up his arms, conceding. - “High noon to us both.”
“Well, with crap off the table, let me cut to the chase.” - She placed her elbows on the table and squinted at him, leaning forward. - “Why the dog shelter?”
“Really want me to answer that?” - In his turn, Robert leaned back and crossed his arms with a skeptical look.
“Yes, I do.” - She tapped her wrist. - “Chop-chop, sir. Clock’s ticking.”
“Fine.” - He produced a long sigh, taking his time. - “As I said, back then I was in the stepping-out-of-the-comfort-zone state of mind. And I always liked dogs. Plus, believe it or not, your nature-saving actions fascinated me. Yeah, I know, the scale is way smaller, but I just jumped right in, not letting myself have any second thoughts. A few months later I ended up having a building, a couple of workers and a bunch of howling puppies.”
“Aww.” - Mathilde leaned her cheek against her hands clasped together. - “And I kept wondering why I sensed the dog food smell since we’ve started talking.”
“Consider it my perfume now. Can’t do anything about it, even though I don’t have any pets at my place.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. Have enough of them at the shelter. And, did you forget, I’m in love with tech stuff and terrified by the fact that they could chew through all the cables.”
“Nerd.”
“Bully.”
She pursed her lips, pondering. - “Honestly, now I want to see this shelter of yours. You being surrounded by puppies, that's some show.”
“It’s not that hard to do. Twenty minutes drive from here, a town nearby.” - He showed her his car’s keys. - “But I thought you were in a hurry. At least you looked like it.”
“Well, chips, soda and binge-watching will have to postpone our meeting.” - Then her brows went up suddenly. - “Wait. You moved back here?”
“Erm…” - He cleared his throat, blushing. - “Technically, it’s another town…”
“Of course it is, dear.” - She sneered viciously. - “Technically, I’ve saved two dolphins.”
“You want to see the puppies or will keep mocking me?” - Robert twirled the keys on his finger. - “Last chance, lady.”
“I intend to do both, sir.” - She winked at him, getting up. - “Lead the way.”
While putting his coat on, Robert turned to her. - “Why forty-three?”
“Forty-three what?”
“Don’t play with me, Ildie!” - He wagged his finger at her. - “You know what I mean.”
“Oh, that…” - Her eyelashes fluttered innocently. - “That little promise of mine to marry you by such an age in case I hadn’t found anyone else?” - She got serious for a moment and waved it off. - “What did you expect of me in that state of mind that day? I just thought how tired I was of all those round numbers all around and came up with forty-three. That’ll do for you?”
“To some extent. By the way, happy birthday, dear friend.”
“Bastard, you knew…”
“How could I forget?” - He let her go first. - “Can’t promise any hamsters, but we could pick a cute little doggy for your present.”
“Oh yeah? But first we’re going to visit a cute little store nearby. I saw a ballerina dress there that should fit you right in.”
“You won’t leave me alone with this, right?”
“Not for anything in the world. You owe me a dance.”
“You owe me a marriage.”
“That remains to be seen.”
The cafe door got opened, the little bell rang, saying its goodbye to the two, then the door closed, the bell ding-donged one more time, confirming that they left, and it became quiet again. A few visitors inside didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, being busy with their everyday life, problems and black seven-days-in-a-row Friday sales.
And only the barista kept smiling, leaning against the counter and gazing dreamily somewhere out the window.
“Ah, la vie…” - He murmured. - “Like a coffee. Getting colder with time, yet still having that fragrance.”
“Jerome!” - A shouting came from behind the kitchen door. - “You lazy ass! Stop dawdling and get over here! I need help with these pains au chocolat.”
“And that is the love of my life.” - Barista said with a sigh. - “Coming, darling!”
The snow kept falling, the snowflakes had not yet melted, the spirit of joy was hoping to stay a little bit longer, and maybe this time it had some chances of keeping all the promises and resolutions.
Or not.
Who knows?
C’est la vie.
La Fin
***
Another story: Stay calm, fight aliens
Another story: A Brighter Future
Another story: Metal Dance
Twitter: Faucrivain