Broken Bay

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I pulled up to Elma's Coffee Shop; my heart danced uncomfortably in my chest. People moved around me swiftly, on their way to wherever their destinations were, no doubt struggling with their own personal dramas. Society had crafted the art of the facial mask, keeping every emotion and feeling tightly nestled behind the eyes and mouth, never allowing vulnerability to the outside world. I knew because I was an expert at this particular way of existing.

The place was scantily occupied and only a few people looked up when I pushed through the door, so engrossed in their own conversations, or reading material, or whatever chosen technology. Unsure exactly who I was looking for, I stood in the doorway for a moment and scanned the little coffee shop with its multi-colored tables set for two and four, situated in front of a wide glass window. A strong scent of coffee and baked breads greeted me as I took in the local artwork hung on every available wall space. Handcrafted coffee mugs and other creative kitchenware were lined along a window shelf to the right of the cash register. Workers in bright green aprons shuffled back and forth taking and delivering orders with friendly smiles and gentle words.

One girl in particular didn't look back to her distraction but, instead, stared at me like I was a ghost come alive before her eyes. She waved a little 'come hither' gesture, so I reluctantly began my way toward her. She obviously knew who she was looking for.

Situated more in a corner, her blue chair up against the edges of two orange walls that met and created a nice little crevice, she sat patiently. "Nobody puts Baby in the corner" came to mind, and I smiled in spite of myself. That was the exact table and seat I would've chosen if I had made it here first.

I felt her eyes on me as sat I down and hung my bag on the edge of a red chair that was decorated with hand painted white polka dots. When I finally gave her my full attention prickly spots poked up through my skin. Remnants of myself mirrored back at me in her thin nose, narrow chin, and slight frame. Her melancholy grayish, blue eyes regarded me carefully as she caught a stray light brown strand of hair, moving it out of her eyes. It lay in long, perfect beachy waves most girls had tried but failed to recreate. She wore a soft pink V-neck t-shirt and jeans, but instead of coming off casual, she looked put together and mature.

"Hi, again," she said and extended her slim hand for me to shake, "I am very thankful you came." At that point a waitress took our order.

Maybe I was losing it, which was a likely possibility, but even her mannerisms seemed to resemble mine with her slightly rounded shoulders and nervous shaking leg. Together we made our table bounce around like there was an earthquake. I stopped immediately when I realized what I was doing, and she just laughed and did the same. And in that moment, I knew my gut had been right all along, she was somebody important.

"Nervous habit." I shrugged.

"Me too," Addison said.

Impatience stole what couth I had left. "Okay, Addison, what's the deal?"

Her face was drawn tight and tense, like a pulled rubber band about to snap, but it didn't take away from her peachy complexion as she no less than glowed. "You look exactly the same as you did when you were five years old," she said.

"And why and how exactly have you had access to a picture of my five year old self?" I asked. "I purposely keep those kind of embarrassing photos off my Facebook page."

"He keeps it on the bedside table in his bedroom." Her ability to answer a question without really answering the question was beginning to wear on my nerves.

"Once again, who the hell is 'he'?" I wasn't leaving until I received suitable answers. She would fill her end of the deal.

The waitress came back, giving me a coffee and Addison a coke, asked if we needed anything else and then left us in a suspended silence. Addison adjusted in her chair, took a sip of her drink, and brushed her long hair over her shoulder.