The Espressologist

6

"How are you doing today, Em?" I ask in the break room of Wired Joe's. I just finished my shift, and Em is coming on to work the afternoon-till-close shift. It has been strangely slow for a Sunday.

"I don't know. All right, I guess," she replies in a melancholy voice.

I fold up my blue apron and shove it in my bag as she slips hers on and ties it behind her back.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but things really will get better," I assure her, looking in the mirror on the wall to adjust the thick plaid tweed headband in my hair and smooth down my white collared shirt. I wish I'd brought a change of clothes for my meeting with Cam today.

"Yeah, I know. You keep saying that. I'm still waiting for it to happen."

"Well, it won't happen immediately," I say, even though I have no experience in this department, since I've never really had a long-term boyfriend. "What's going on?

You sounded better on the phone yesterday morning. I knew you should have come out with Katie, Ava, and me last night. Next time I'm going to drag your butt out so you don't have time to sit around and mope."

"I didn't sit around and mope the whole time," she says. "I saw him."

"You saw Jason?" I spin around to look at her. "Oh, my god, Em, why? Please tell me you didn't do the desperate girl thing and beg for him to take you back."

Darn it. I should have kept her company last night. I can be such a sucky friend sometimes.

"No ... no.' Of course not. I'm depressed but not stupid," Em says. "I ran out to Chipotle for a burrito last night and he was there. He looked amazing. He was wearing that big super-soft comfy navy blue sweater that I gave him last Christmas. For just the briefest of moments I wanted to rush up to him and throw my arms around him.

But then I noticed he was with her. I lost my appetite instantly, so I turned around and went home."

"Oh geez, Em, that's rough. Did he see you?"

"No, I don't think so." We're both silent for a moment.

"What did she look like?" I finally ask.

A slight smile spreads across Em's face.

"Totally lame," she admits.

"Tell me, tell me. I want details."

"Well, for starters she was wearing acid-washed stretch jeans."

"No!" I practically scream, covering my mouth with my hand.

"Yeah, I didn't even know they still made those," she says.

"Maybe she bought them on eBay?" I offer. "You can buy all kinds of crap there."

"Maybe," she echoes. "She also had on a pink-and-green tie-dyed shirt, big pink hoop earrings, and, get this, construction boots."

"Oh, for the love of Brenda Walsh, are you kidding me?" I squeal. "He HAS to have lost his mind. That is so nineties I want to puke."

"I know," Em adds with a little laugh. "I bet the construction boots turn Jason on. Not that I want to picture someone else turning him on." She abruptly stops laughing.

"I can understand that," I say. "Last question, and then we won't talk about her anymore. Promise."

"Okay."

"Hair?"

"Bad perm," Em answers.

"I knew it!" I say, clapping my hands together. I pick up my bag and turn toward the door to leave. "Em"–I turn back around to face her–"maybe you should think about letting me set you up with someone. I know we were kidding about it in your room the other night, but it might be good for you. You know, just to get back out in the world and all."

"Huh? No." She makes a face.

"Oh, come on," I urge. "Just one date. And only if the coffee beans speak to me."

"I don't know ..."

"Okay, promise me you'll think about it. I'm going to grab a drink and get out there for my meeting with Cam.

Have a good shift. And don't worry. It really will get better."

"I hope so," she says, and follows me to the front of the store.

Cam is sitting in one of the two big blue velvet comfy chairs in the front corner of the store. The blue-and-white neon sign of the Wired Joe's logo is hanging behind his head and he's listening to something on his iPod. I plop down in the chair opposite him.

"Hey, Cam."

"Hey, Jane." He turns off his iPod and pulls out the ear-buds. "How's it going?"

"Really good." I set my iced mocha down on the small table between us. I notice that he already has a drink.

"I would have made you something for free," I say.

"That's okay," he says. He picks up his drink and takes a swig.

"What did you get, anyway?" I ask, curious to see what his drink is. I'm having a hard time pegging this one.

"Toffee nut latte," he says.

"Toffee nut latte?" I repeat, almost accusingly. It's been a while since I've come across a toffee nut latte. I close my eyes and try to mentally picture the entry in my notebook.

Toffee Nut Latte

Definitely not what you expect. Very hot... very sexy

...

My eyes spring open and I can feel myself blushing fiercely. Is that what the entry really says? I wonder if I can casually peek into my notebook ...

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" he asks.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. I just didn't see it coming," I say, still feeling flush.

"You are kind of weird sometimes, Jane."

"So true," I agree.

We start working on our project, and I find that I'm having a really good time with Cam. He is SO funny. He's telling me all kinds of stories about growing up and the kids he played with on his block. Like this one time, he and his friend Vinnie walked up and down the sidewalks yelling, "Lassie! Come home!" People would stop and ask them what was wrong and they would say that they lost their collie Lassie (as in the TV dog Lassie) and people were actually helping them look. It was all good and funny until Cam's mom went to the school PTO meeting and the president asked her if they'd found their dog. Which, of course, was nonexistent. She was totally embarrassed and Cam got in mega trouble.

Em is at the espresso machines making the drinks while Wendy, one of our older baristas, is working the register. I can see Em occasionally watching us and I give her a smile.

"Who are you smiling at?"

"Oh, that's my best friend, Em," I answer. "She's awesome."

"That is really cool that you guys get to work together."

"Yeah, it totally is," I agree.

The front door of the store opens and I feel a knot forming in my stomach. Melissa walks in, sans sidekick

Ginny this time. A look of repulsion must have come over my face because Cam says, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just suddenly don't feel so well."

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" he inquires with concern.

"No." Great. Now he thinks I have diarrhea or something. Melissa saunters right on over to us.

"Jane!" she sings, like she and I are the nearest and dearest. "How are you? I'll have a small nonfat latte."

"I'm not working, Melissa," I say through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you are so cute, Jane. Isn't she so cute?" she asks, turning to Cam. "Okay then, I'll have that latte."

"Seriously ... not working," I repeat.

"What do you mean you're not working?" Melissa asks. Is she kidding? Usually being confronted with Melissa Stillwell turns me into a meek little kitten, but I'm not feeling so meek today. She's totally embarrassing me in front of Cam.

"Take the literal translation," I say. "I'm not working

... not making drinks ... can't help you out. No estoy trabajando. Go up to the register and place your order there." Wow, that felt good. Though saying it in Spanish was probably a bit much, and I might get a little sarcasm backlash.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she says. "Are you on a date? Are you one of Jane's relatives?" she asks Cam.

"What?" Cam turns to me with a puzzled look. I feel my face flush red. Oh, my god, I'm going to hurt this girl one of these days. I look down at my notebook and pray for her to just go away.

"Next," Em bellows out, registering the situation.

"What do you want, Melissa? I'll take your order." Em to the rescue again. Melissa looks reluctant to go, especially right in the middle of a dig at me. She glances at her watch.

"Well, I do have to hurry. I AM meeting a date soon.

No relation," she adds, looking pointedly at me. She walks toward Em, sashaying her hips all the way (which I'm sure is for Cam's benefit), and places her order. If evil glares could do damage, she would be hurting right now.

"What was that all about?" Cam asks with a stunned expression. I take a deep breath and hope that my face is returning to a normal color.

"Just a nasty girl who went to my school last year," I explain.

"She seems like a real witch," he says.

"Oh ... she definitely is." We both watch Melissa take her drink and then walk back toward the front door.

"Later, Jane!" she calls on her way out, but I don't respond.

"Definitely not a nice girl," Cam says.

"Uh-uh. She made it her mission to torture me junior year. She graduated and I thought that was that, but no, she recently rediscovered me here."

"Why don't you just punch her in the face?" he asks.

"Punch her in the face?" I repeat. "I don't know. That is so boy. Besides, I've never really punched anyone. I don't think I would be very good at it."

His face breaks into a grin. "I'm kidding, Jane."

"Oh." I nod.

"Seriously, have you tried talking to her?"

Talk to Melissa? The words pointless and aggravating spring to mind. "No," I say. "It's no use. She's like this every time I see her."

"Well," he says, "maybe try to get her one-on-one.

You can't just let her keep making fun of you like that."

I sigh and begin to explain to him my problem with girls like her and how I've always turned from confident and assured to a weak doormat in about three seconds flat.

Cam scribbles in his notebook.

"That was off the record. Don't put that in your paper."

"We'll see," he teases.

"You better not," I say, slapping him playfully on the shoulder. And a muscular shoulder at that. We're both laughing and I'm suddenly struck with a bit of genius. Cam is so much fun. I wonder if he'd be a good match for Em?

Maybe not a forever-and-ever love connection, but they'd have a good time for now. Though that whole toffee nut latte thing kind of throws me for a loop. But then again, isn't there a super-yummy European nutty chocolate spread? So a toffee nut latte might go with a coffee hot chocolate. Maybe. "Earth to Jane."

"Huh?" I say, coming out of my thoughts and looking at him.

"What are you thinking about?" Cam asks. "You just went away there for a moment."

Ah, what the heck. There's no time to check my notebook. I'll just have to go with a gut feeling on this one.

"I was thinking about you and my friend Em. I was thinking maybe you should take her out sometime. You guys would be really cute together." A flicker of something comes over his face. Is that pain? No–what could be painful about taking a cute girl out? Is he hurt? Did I say something wrong?

"You"–he stumbles a bit–"want me to take out your friend?"

"Yeah. Em is awesome. She's so sweet and fun to be around. You'll love her."

Cam looks down at his hands for a moment and bites his bottom lip. He lifts his head back up and meets my eyes.

"Okay. If you want me to, I'll take her out," he says in a monotone voice. Geez, I would think he could muster some enthusiasm. I hope he is more fun on their date.

"Great. I'll set it up."

I give Em's information to Cam. He tosses his notebook into his forest-green backpack and says he'll see me in class. I gather my stuff and head back up to the counter to chat with Em while she makes drinks.

"So," I say, reaching past the service table and grabbing a large straw to play with.

"So, what?" Em echoes, checking the temperature on the pitcher of frothed milk.

"What do you think of the war in the Middle East?

Duh, Em, what do you think I mean? What do you think of my friend Cam? I totally saw you checking him out. Don't even try to lie."

"What?" She blushes. "I wasn't checking anybody out."

"Yeah ... okay ... whatever," I say. "Do you want to go on a date with that guy you weren't checking out?"

Em slams the frothing pitcher on the table, spilling some, and looks at me with her eyebrows shot up.

"What did you bloody hell do?" she hisses at me, narrowing her eyes.

"Hey, calm down." I grab a handful of napkins and stretch over the counter to clean up the spilled milk. "Cam is great. It would be a fun thing, casual, just for laughs.

Nothing serious at all, I swear."

"No, Jane. I told you I wasn't ready."

"Well, I'm not asking you to pick out china patterns with the guy. Just go on one date," I say.

"I ... I can't," she says. "I haven't dated anyone besides Jason in years."

"Exactly! That is why Cam is the perfect choice for a first post-Jason date. Seriously, Em, he'll have you laughing all night." I can see Em soften and consider the idea.

"I don't know. I don't know if I'm ready."

"Well, just chat with him online first. I gave him your IM screen name and your e-mail address," I say.

"What?! I never really had a choice in the matter, did I?" she asks.

"Not really, but if a long-term boyfriend ever breaks up with me, I'll expect you to return the favor."

"Well," she says, wiping the sides of the milk pitcher with a wet towel, "he is pretty cute."

I grin. "That he is."