Rainy Day Renderings

Just Another Day

"Good morning!" I wave to Mrs. Daughtry as I pass her small cottage on my bicycle. She waves in response, and for a moment the water from her flowered watering can splashes against the pavement, before she realizes and redirects it towards her lilacs. I smile to myself, and turn my face towards the wind, letting it be caught in the web of my dark hair. The dew like salty sea air clings to my lips, and I can almost taste the desolate cliffs. My legs began to ache as I pedal uphill along the path into town, my motivation for the moment being the sunrise hued tulips in my basket. A gift to Mr. and Mrs. Evans, who kindly invited me into their home for dinner a few days ago when I was caught out in the rain. They had both mentioned their enjoyment for watching the sunrise every morning, and I thought the flowers captured it perfectly. I arrive at their home, a small flat in an old building of grey stone. I leave my bicycle upright against the small gate encircling the garden in front. Ringing the doorbell, I only wait for a moment before Mrs. Evans opens it. She tells me her husband is meeting with some friends. I hand her the bundle of tulips, wrapped in golden tissue paper. "Thank you so much for the dinner the other night. It was so kind of you," I tell her smiling.

"It was nothing!" she smiles back. "Anytime you need anything, you can come to us. These flowers are gorgeous." She sticks her nose among the petals and inhales deeply. "They'll be a beautiful addition to our table. Thank you," she says.

"Well, you are most welcome. Thank you again!" I wave to her as I walk back to my bicycle. Taking it up, I pedal down the sidewalk, past the fabric store, and the small post office. I pass several cafes, where people are reading the paper and enjoying their breakfast with tea or coffee. I pass the artist's studio, where paintings hang in the window depicting flowering orchards, and beautiful porcelain plates are displayed on shelves. Finally I reach the cafe that I work at. It's connected to a bookstore and paperie, so it kind of serves as both. Going around back of the cottage like building on the street corner, I hurriedly take out my bike lock and secure it to one of the racks, before pulling my apron out of the basket. Tying it on, I enter through the back door into the kitchen.

"Tajana you're late," I hear Millie's voice greet me. I cringe. She runs the place, and is overall pretty kind, but she holds high expectations, is strict, and can be demanding. 

"Sorry Ma'am," I say, pulling my hair into a messy bun. I see Emory glance over briefly. He's sort of like Millie's right hand, and takes care of everything when she's not here. He always seemed friendly to me, like someone I could have been friends with, maybe in another situation. I feel a slight twinge of jealousy as I watch him tease Ciara about wearing her apron inside out. They've been friends for a while and go to university together. I sigh. Wish I could have friends like that, I think, before chastising myself for being too dramatic. I turn away and see Shay enter, carrying a stack of precariously balanced teacups. He's somewhat reserved and doesn't talk much, but gets along well with everyone. He's the youngest person who works here, being two years younger than myself. 

"You're needed out there. Full house today," Shay tells me as he passes. I nod and venture out of the kitchen into the café side of the place. There are several tables, and some chairs by the window. Many of the people are typing away on their laptops, occasionally taking pauses to drink from their mugs. Bookshelves surround the area, and some people glaze over book titles. I find a table with someone still looking at a menu. Taking a deep breath, I take out my notepad and approach them. I wear my friendliest smile as they look up. It's a man with his daughter, who is scribbling with purple crayons on a sheet of paper.

"Hello, welcome to the Honeybee Café," I say. "What can I get for you today?" He orders the basic pastries and tea. Jotting down the order, I give one last smile, and head back into the kitchen, tearing off the note and clipping it behind the others. I take several more orders before the breakfast crowd slows down.