At the Coffee House
She stands beside the doorway watching him wait in line with his old college buddy. “Tall Americano,” he orders. He wears the aqua shorts she picked out to show off his butt and a dobby hat to hide the salt in his hair. There are girls behind him, coeds really, and he starts flirting. A blonde with hair past her waist giggles at something he says. The old college buddy joins in and it becomes a party. So many smiles, so much flashing of teeth.
She steps back into twilight. She doesn’t want coffee or cheesecake. It’s something they do as a couple but the old college buddy makes her feel like a third wheel. She sits at a brick fire pit on the patio. The flames are orange and green. She spots him through glass—he clutches a venti-sized cup and performs exaggerated gestures like a silent movie star. The blonde is smiling. She hears the old college buddy’s machinegun laugh. She kicks off her slippers. She swings bare feet up on brick, toes reaching for fire.