Home: Part 35

What follows is a work of fiction. Nothing here is either true or relevant. Read at your own risk. Expect nothing, and that's exactly what you'll get. Oh: This could go on for a while.

January 1976

Shannon and I met for lunch a few days later in a small cafe not far from where she worked. I got there early and found a small table by the window in the corner farthest away from the kitchen. The place was old and well used. Outside, the gray sky seemed to be settling toward the streets as if dawn had refused to give way to any brightness that tried to follow. Shannon unbuttoned her long coat as she walked to the table. A green silk scarf was gathered around her neck, and the cold air outside had left her cheeks and nose bright red.

"Hi," she said. Her foot brushed against my shin as she sat across from me.

"A nice day to be inside, isn't it?"

She pressed her gloved hands against her face. "I do much better when the sun's out."

"Likewise." I gestured toward the counter where a half-dozen or so old men were seated. "But there's nothing like a fancy restaurant to help, right?"

She laughed in a way that I liked--soft, understated. "Cindy said she recommended the place. She said that it was safe and unpretentious."

I nodded. "My sister's pretty good at thinking things through."

A less-than-interested waitress walked to our table and laid dog-eared and worn menus in front of us. "Coffee?"

"Please," Shannon said.

"Just water," I said.

The waitress turned and walked away. I watched her disappear through double doors that swung open wide as she made her way through them. The coffee pot was behind the counter, and I wondered where the waitress was going.

"You live nearby?" Shannon asked.

"Not too far. And I assume that my sister recommended a place that is close to both of us."

"She did. I've got an apartment a few blocks from here. I must've walked by this window a hundred times and never even noticed it belonged to a cafe."

I liked how she phrased that--creative, not how most people would say it. "I have to be honest, I'm a bit awkward in situations like these. Did Cindy tell you that, by any chance?"

Shannon smiled. "She said you're a bit shy. If it helps, I'm as nervous as anyone could be."

The waitress returned with our water and coffee. "I'll be right back to take your order," she said, and then she was gone.

"We should at least look at the menu," Shannon said. "Then we can be nervous together while we eat."