Morning Coffee

Lucy ran from one machine to the next, pushing buttons, pulling levers, and pouring hot liquids dangerously close to her body.

“Grande, non-fat, vanilla latte,” Aaron called to her, as he shoved a paper cup into her hand.

Think, Lucy, think. Come on. You read the book. You know this one.

Lucy froze. She couldn’t remember. Aaron grabbed the cup and made the drink for her. Lucy grinned sheepishly at the customer who was pounding his fingers on the countertop, waiting impatiently for his coffee. Red hair, black-rimmed glasses, New York Times. Lucy didn’t know his name, but she did know that he was the last customer of the morning rush. He always was. She hadn’t even been there for a week yet, but she was already recognizing the patterns of the regulars. He snatched the drink from her as she handed it over the counter and smiled. She studied the stitching pattern on the back of his loafers as he hurried out the door with his drink in hand.

“I suck at this.”

“Lucy, no. You’re doing fine. It takes time to learn all of this stuff.”

“What was I thinking? I was thinking that I really need a job, that’s what. You and I both know that I have no business working in a coffee shop, Aaron. I’ve never drunk a cup of coffee in my life. I don’t know what any of this stuff is.”

“Well, I’m still glad you’re here. Even if I did have to do both your job and mine this morning.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you know I’ll tell mom if you’re mean and she’ll get mad at you.”

Lucy stuck her tongue out at her brother and blew a raspberry, just as the red-haired guy walked back in.

“You forgot the chocolate sprinkles.”