Coffee Shop

• 08 •

A few things became routine for me, which was nice, considering I hadn't had one for the longest. Helping Mr. Paul had become one. Yes, I knew I agreed to one Sunday, but that Sunday turned into a Monday morning, and a Tuesday. Before I knew it, I just made sure to stop by and help with boxes before I left for the coffee shop. Mr. Paul would remind me each time that a twenty, thirty, or forty was knocked off my rent. But after a few days, I hadn't thought of it as a way to help with rent. It was just a good thing to do.

As Brian said, I'm a good person.

And Brian... he became another routine. The walks home, well, that became a nightly thing. And after a few nights, I was used to it. I purposely waited at the door at the end of our shift, watching him sort through the cash and prepare the deposits to be taken in the morning. Once he was good and ready, he locked up the shop and walked me home.

After two months, it was nothing like the first walk. I wasn't nervous or fumbling, and I wasn't pink for no reason. Well, I mean, there were reasons, but you know.

Eventually, our walks became more fluid, and natural, as best friends would do. We also took our time, walked down different streets to add another minute or two to the walk. At first, I thought it was just me, but when he'd mentioned there was a pleasant park just two streets down I should see at night, I knew he purposely did it, too.

It was nice, and I admit, too nice. This was my boss. Yet, was I wrong not to care? The nights home were just walking, nothing else.

Right?

When we reached the park, I leaned against the cool, dark fence that separated the fence from the play yard. I watched the swings move on their own in the wind, and the small wheel by the slide spin slowly.

For a second, I wondered why I needed to see the park at night because it didn't seem special. It wasn't until the clouds finally parted and allowed the moon to shine its lights down on the park and its entirety. The metal that built the play yard seemed to glow, almost a bright blue. The trees themselves were shrouded in their own mesmerizing light. I almost expected fairies to come out from hiding.

Instead, a small paper waved in my face. Brian wiggled it when I didn't grab it. "This is yours. Thought I'd give it to you now before I forget."

It was a paper check, written in Rianne's handwriting, nice and neat—my pay for the week prior. To think, since I caught up on most of my bills and rent, I'd almost forgotten about it. Almost.

That's what happens when my bank account has an actual balance in it again, huh?

"Oh." I took it in my hands and folded it once. "Thank you."

"Welcome," he said, and leaned against the fence along with me. "Isn't this nice?"

"Yeah," I smiled, "how did you know to come out here at night?"

For a second, he smiled, paused, and looked away from me. I watched his eyes look around the trees and swings, then up at the moon. He seemed lost in his own world at that moment. I wondered how my simple question could send him so far away.

With my elbow, I bumped his arm gently. "Brian? Earth to Brian?"

"Hm?" He finally looked at me, the light gone from his eyes. I wanted to frown, but he smiled and said, "Remember when you asked me what I do for fun? I honestly like walking at night, just strolling through parks. When it's hot out, I walk along the beach for a while before heading home."

He sounded like the perfect bio written on dating websites: I like to walk through parks and take long strolls on the beach. Usually, those bios were paired with photos that were ten years old and when you'd meet the guy he'd put on twenty-three pounds—these were facts I knew from experience.