Cafe Latte

Chapter Three

Three days had passed since Josselin had last come in, and Meara found himself watching both the monitor in the back and the door in the front, waiting and hoping for him to come back. What happened? Was it because he'd sent Danny out that one time? Had Josselin noticed the drawings of hearts in his drinks, and realized Meara wasn't doing it anymore? Was that woman a blind date who ended up axe murdering him? What was going on?

Meara's eyes darted over to the corkboard of business cards and flyers and the table underneath. When Josselin had asked to leave some cards for his translating service, Meara hadn't thought much of it, but now...

Would it be weird if he used the number on the card to get in touch for something other than business reasons? Was that pushing past boundaries? Josselin could always hang up on him, sure, but what if...

What if, what if, what if.

When he walked by the table to clean the handprints off the door, he pocketed a card, and for a long time, he left it there.

"Hey, Danny?"

Danny was sweeping the kitchen so Meara could plate up the freshly baked cookies. He looked up from his work and stopped humming.

"What's up?"

"Do you think... is it weird that Josselin hasn't come in?"

"Are you worried?"

Meara didn't look up from his plates, but he nodded.

"Is that weird?"

"I don't think so." Danny grabbed the dustpan and swept in the dirt and flour. "He's been here every day for months. It is a little weird for him to just disappear."

"Would it also be weird if I called him?"

Danny fumbled the broom, but didn't drop it. "He gave you his number?"

"No, I... he left some business cards a while back. For his translating service. I could get his business number from there, if I wanted."

"I don't know," Danny said. "I mean, I think it's okay, as long as you're not creepy about it. So just don't be creepy about it!"

Meara rolled his eyes and pushed through the door. Danny followed him, broom and dustpan still in hand, so he could sweep the front room. Meara slid the cookies into the bake case and turned back around.

"Watch the front for me a minute, okay?"

Danny smirked as Meara grabbed the phone on his way back through the door, but didn't comment.

Business card in one hand and cordless café phone in the other, Meara paced the end of the tiny kitchen. Finally, he turned the phone on and dialed the number on the card.

It rang once, twice, and Meara realized he didn't even know what he was going to say, and on the third ring, Josselin picked up with a coughing fit and a croaked "Sorry. Hello?"

Meara was still, tongue-tied for a second.

"Hello?"

"Sorry, um, hi, is Josselin there?"

A pause. "Who is this?"

"Sorry. It's Meara? From the café you visit every day?"

"Meara?"

"Yeah, um." It was that moment Meara realized how stupid he sounded, but he couldn't hang up now. That would be rude. Finally, he soldiered on and said, "You haven't been in for a few days, and usually you're here all the time, and I just wanted to check in and make sure you're all right?"