"Day Job"

Don sighed as he swung open the door of the downtown Chicago coffee shop. The late fall day had a bit of a nip to it and the smell of the special of the month, “Spiced Pumpkin Latte,” swirled through the darkened wood interior. Abi, the chipper barista, smiled up at him as she finished wiping off the black countertop during a momentary lull. “Working late again, Mr. Morgan?” She had a special fondness for the elderly regular. 

“Yes, Abi. I suppose I am.”

“Weren’t you supposed to be taking it easy? Doctor’s orders? Something about only mornings?”

“That was the plan.”

Abi looked teasingly at her watch, saying, “Well?”

“Home is just too quiet–I get bored.”

“You could always come clean my place and watch little Jenner.” They exchanged smiles over the thought of him chasing her mischievous two year old son around Chicago. “No deal, eh? Oh well. What can I get for you today?”

“Hmm, today... a medium of the French roast with a shot of the hazelnut flavoring, I think.” He hoped that would help get rid of his throbbing headache.

“Alright. I’ll bring it over to your table.”

“Thanks, Abi.” Don made his way over to his usual table with the two tall barstools in the corner and pulled the worn notebook from his small Italian leather briefcase. He turned to the first blank page and smoothed out the crinkled corner with his thumb. Thinking back over Abi’s comment about watching Jenner, he sighed. He had three grandchildren of his own but probably knew more about Abi’s son than about any of them. His kids probably wouldn’t even let him take care of them if he asked to. They kept him at a distance. Conversations were sparse and cold. And he knew it was his own fault. “If only I knew then what I know now! It didn’t have to be that way! I thought that it was normal to sacrifice your family on the altar of business. And where did that get me? One of the top businessman in Chicago and a family who won’t say more than ten words to me at one time.” His eyes fell to the death grip he had on his pen and he forced himself to relax. That was the reason he was writing this. He had seen so much in his lifetime, been so many interesting places, spoken with so many fascinating people. He wanted to tell his family all about it, but they wouldn’t listen, maybe later they would read about it. He took a sip from the cup that Abi had placed on his table and started in where he had left off.

By the time Abi glanced up, the cab had already crashed through the glass and mowed down two tables. The driver’s door flew open and Frankie jumped out. “One Iced White Mocha Latte, please.” 

“Frankie,” Abi said scowling, “does this look like a drive thru to you?”

“Hey, I’m sorry, I meant to hit the breaks, I really did. But a customer is a customer and mine is in the back of that cab and wants his drink. It’s urgent, you know?”

Abi pulled out a stack of forms and slammed it on the counter. “You know the drill. Fill these out and I make the drink. We just got the window fixed from last month’s “urgent customer!”

“Frankie? Frankie Smirnenski?” Don asked, rising from his table.

“Donnie?” Frankie said in disbelief. “It’s really you! I haven’t seen you since the ten year reunion! How’ve ya been?”

“You know Mr. Morgan?” Abi asked, turning from the drink she was preparing.

“Yeah! We were college roommates way back!”

Don picked his way over the broken glass and wood fragments. “You left after taking that creative writing course, right? What happened to those plans?”

“Oh,” Frankie said with a grin, “this is just my day job!”