Tanzanite Cocoa Café

On this early and dreary morning, I found myself using the pitter patter of rain to wake up. Normally, the chaos of early mornings; eggs, coffee, syrup, and busy streets served as the perfect alarm. Nonetheless, today an eerie silence and murky skies made the perfect excuse to stay in late. As I wrestled with my sheets, I began to think how I’d been eager to attend Uncle Silas’s birthday gala for weeks. Now the day has arrived, but I must say today is not necessarily "birthday gala" like weather. I couldn’t necessarily shake off the gloom that resonated in the air this morning.

Many individuals did not like Uncle Silas as he was curt, outspoken, eccentric, and wild to say the least. I found him to be as refreshing as freshly cut cucumbers that sit within an ice-cold glass pitcher on a hot summer’s day. His features were simplistic – Silas was a middle aged, well-built man with greying hair. He consistently wore pin-striped pants of all colors, but for some reason they always seemed inside out to me. He always wore espresso toned Italian leather boots, and consistently told the story of how he won them off an infamous Matador. Though the man had stature and was known for his comely face, my eyes were always drawn to his accessories. They always seemed more important than what they led on to be, specifically his tanzanite signet ring. The only detail of Uncle Silas that remained the same regardless of weather, outfit, or occasion. The baroque like ring had a gold lion’s head as its’ face but within the lion’s lips was a rose cut tanzanite gem. A gem both rare and beautiful however, the most intricate detail was that the signet was also a locket.

Uncle Silas consistently opened the ring throughout the day, but most do not know what's inside. Every faction had their own hypothesis of what could lie within. Entrepreneurs figured something important like a diamond, romantics say an old love letter, and cynics always claimed poison. Oddly enough, I always enjoyed being one of the few living individuals to know what was held in the ring – it consistently reminds me of one of Uncle Silas’s most delicate qualities. Silas entrusted me with a tiny café on my 18th Birthday. He acknowledged my love for pastries, desserts, and aromatic atmospheres. Since today is Silas’s birthday gala I’ve decided to open the café a bit later and close quite early so that I can prepare. Luckily, there's a studio above the café so I can essentially just roll out of bed and go directly to work. Work was effortless; I always baked in the evenings so the next day all the delicious goodies were prepped and ready to go. Typically, I enjoyed a cappuccino and silence before opening the café but being that I’m opening the shop late today – that doesn’t really seem like a viable option. As I brushed my fingers against the light switches and the smell of Lavazza coffee consumed the air, I could see the silhouette of one my regulars amidst the showering rain.

I rushed to unlock the door for Winnie, one of my regulars and dearest friend. Winnie was a very maternal feminine woman, though we’re but a mere year apart she always managed to baby me. I don’t believe I’ve ever known someone like Winnie – she had a long steel blue locks that dangled past her waist and wore a different colored silk skirt every day. Winnie, I spent an hour gossiping, drinking cappuccinos, and enjoy each other’s company. Her visit today was especially purposeful as she had designed my evening gown for the gala. She had creative freedom and chose to go with an off the shoulder, emerald satin gown, with a slit that seemed like it went on for miles. I honestly don’t believe I’d ever seen something so simplistically glamorous. As Winnie’s perfume filled my nose in our goodbyes, I noticed a customer coming in. The woman that entered was surely a stranger but a most intriguing stranger indeed. Her blunt short crimson hair brushed against her perfectly glass-like ivory toned cheeks.

When I asked, “Hello Miss, how can I help you today?” Her raspy but sultry voiced filled the air and she proceed to tell me how she was in the mood for some local Italian coffee. I recommended a cappuccino knowing my bias and requested her name so I could sign it on her cup. “Colette” she proceeded to see confidently. As I prepared her coffee, I could not help but notice her composure. She was dainty but as graceful as a professional ballerina. As she approached the counter to collect her cappuccino, she asked if we had any chocolatey desserts. I had prepped a mini but decadent brigadeiro cake, the evening before. As I boxed and wrapped the cake with a bow that matched the fire of her hair – Colette commented “Forever and Always”. I asked if she wanted me to pipe the phrase onto the cake, but she mentioned that she was simply thinking aloud. Shortly after our goodbyes, a few more customers came by, and I began to close the café for the evening.

Uncle Silas sent a town car to take me to his manor and prepare for the gala there. He was always chivalrous and that never faded even as I got older. As the town car silently approached the front courtyard, I could see Silas waiting to receive me at the door. Sandalwood and citrus consumed his presence and tickled my senses. A few kisses on the forehead and uncle sent me on my way with the maid to prepare for the gala. Margot served my uncle for years and was essentially a sister to him and thus an aunt to me. I could not help but notice the silent elation on Margot’s face, so I asked “Margot, we’re a little more lively than usual, aren’t we?” Her eyes widened and led me to a beautiful cerulean wrapped box simply sitting on my velvet sheets. I tossed back my satin gown and rushed over to the bed, just barely containing the excitement within me. As I undid the wrapping like a young child on Christmas morning – I was left with a tiny leather embossed pouch. Margot, handed me a letter that read “Celebrating an important day with the only family I know and love – Forever & Always, Silas.” As tears began to form, I remembered the pouch and composed myself. In hearing the click of the open button, I could not wait to see what was inside. My fingernail nearly brushed the inside of the pouch and shock overcame excitement. I was in disbelief with what was inside the pouch, but in seeing Margot’s face – I already knew I was right.

Blues, purples, and brilliance filled my room. Silas’s beloved Tanzanite signet ring hung on the edge of my index finger. I could feel the love radiating from the ring, I could not help but to check the inside of the locket. It was still there, Uncle’s emergency medicine for his rare condition – right then and there I knew I had both his love and his trust. Shortly after, I could hear the screeching of tires and clamor of voices filling the ballroom and I knew the party had begun. After greeting guests and introducing the most honored guest that evening, Uncle Silas and I made our way to the dinning hall. We mingled, laughed, and gossiped all throughout dinner. Finally, the best part of the evening, dancing. Uncle and I always shared our first dance and made our way through the guests. I could see but a mere twenty feet away a crimson silhouette covering Silas. He was blushing as they traveled throughout the ballroom. After many dance partners and laughs, my eyes began to search for Silas. I began to remember the crimson figure and made that my marker. Like a target I found the crimson marker and thus, found my uncle. To my amusement, I saw that sweet dances across a ballroom became physical in kisses and embraces. I became overfilled with joy because I knew how long Silas had been without company.

I began to head to the library for rest and thus turned my back, but then a loud gasp filled the ballroom. Silence, pure silence, and fear came over the guests. I ran over to the last spot I remembered seeing Silas and arrived at a cold and empty shell of the man I knew. He was dead but no physical marks, no weapons, and a room full of people. I clenched onto his coat yelling for help and raining down tears on his cheeks. Right then, I smelled it – the decadent aroma of cocoa and condensed milk, a smell I knew too well. As I raised my head from the nook of his neck, I saw chocolate smeared on the corner of his lip. Thoughts began to rush and fill my mind – "Uncle would never have eaten chocolate he’s allergic, we held his birthdays at his manor because the staff is aware of this condition, so how could this be possible?" The sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach was terrible, and to make matters worse I wore the cure on my ring finger this evening. In looking at Silas’s cold body I knew it was too late but then, like a thief in the night a flash of crimson red quietly brushed passed me. I looked up to see Colette, he came down to my eye level in the same way one would console a child. She did not shy away from me as she used her thumb to wipe away cocoa from the corner of her lips. The residue on her thumb was enough but she continued to wipe away my tears, and then whispered in my ear “Thank you for the chocolate cake, forever and always".