5 Minute Romance: The Barista

“I’ll have a medium vanilla latte, please.”

“You guys still carry that tea that turns pink? What’s it called—Passion or something?”

Eric punched an order for a double shot of espresso, knowing full well that the person who asked for it had no idea what they were signing themselves up for. He didn’t dislike working in a cafe, but some days were longer than others, especially when preventing the wrong coffee order didn’t always go as planned. “Some people,” his manager, Jessica, liked to say, “want to taste sounds and hear colors and think caffeine’s going to take them there.”

“What they really need are drugs,” Brent, a coworker, would chime in.

So he went about pouring freshly brewed coffee, frothing milk, delicately sprinkling cinnamon, and throwing out empty bottles of lavender syrup. One order blurred with the next until the bell over the door jangled and someone stumbled in, shaking snow from their long wool coat.

“Can you believe it’s snowing in November?” she asked with a brilliant smile. “I haven’t seen snow in November since I was a kid.”

Eric almost dropped the carton of milk he was holding onto the floor. He hadn’t seen that face in years. Or what felt like it. She was still wearing the same ratty green beanie over her wild red curls. The tip of her freckled nose was red from the cold, and her lips were slightly chapped, but her eyes were the warm brown of coffee that they always had been.

Eric walked over to the cash register, pushing aside Brent who had stepped up to take the woman’s order, and asked, “Emma?”

Her eyes widened at the use of her name. “Sorry, do I—oh. Eric? Is that you? Wow, it’s been how long now?”

“Since high school graduation,” he stated. So four years and five months.

Emma nodded. “Right. It’s been a while.”

“Four years and five months,” Eric repeated with a flinch for having actually said it aloud. He was an idiot.

Much to his surprise, Emma laughed. “I didn’t realize it had been that long. Time’s flying for me.”

“Really? What’ve you been up to?”

Emma’s brown eyes went a little dark but her smile remained the same. “Just busy. College and stuff.”

“Oh, that’s right. You went to that one up north for, uh—what was your major again?”

“Anthropology,” she returned with a shrug. Emma glanced over at the treat display and fumbled with a packet of chocolate-covered pretzels. “My parents said it was a waste of money, but I think it’s fascinating.”

“At least you got out of town for a bit. I’ve been here since high school.” Eric gestured to the four walls of the tiny café before asking, “What brings you back, anyway?”

Emma tucked some hair behind her ear, eyes darting off to the right now, as if looking for someone—or a way out. Reading that she wasn’t feeling up to answering fifty questions, Eric put up his hands, backpedaling.

“Forget it. I won’t probe. What can I get you?”

That smile returned, stretching a bit further this time. “What do you recommend?”

“The matcha latte is my favorite but—”

“I’ll take it.”

Eric sputtered when he realized that someone had taken his recommendation. No one ever did that.

“Okay,” he said, and he got to making a matcha latte.

Emma left him a tip, drank the matcha latte in silence, and then vanished from the café without saying goodbye. Eric didn’t mind. Most people did that. What he didn’t anticipate was Emma coming back a few days later, green beanie still on her head, and a new crocheted scarf around her neck. This time, he recommended a hazelnut macchiato, which she bought. They talked a little longer about her anthropology studies, including her time abroad in Italy and Greece.

Emma’s amazing, Eric thought to himself as he wiped down the counter during closing time.

A few days after that, Emma came back again. She had dark circles under her eyes and seemed to be a bit shaky, but when her dark brown eyes found his, her entire face lit up.

Putting her hands on the counter, she asked, “What’s the daily recommendation?”

“Well, our lavender syrup is back in stock, so—”

“A lavender latte then.”

Eric made the best lavender latte of his entire career as a barista. This time, Emma waved bye to him on the way out the door.

Two weeks had passed before Emma showed up again. Her skin was sunken, pale, and she’d lost weight. When Eric asked if she was feeling okay, she cryptically answered, “Your coffee’s the one thing I look forward to right now.”

The next week, the door chimed around the time Emma would appear, but it wasn’t her. Another recognizable face from high school approached the counter, chatting on the phone while trying to make an order. Eric barely heard the woman ask for an Americano.

“You know Emma from school? She’s at the hospital. Yeah, I heard it’s because she has some kind of cancer.” A pause. “It’s so sad, right?”

Eric’s heart stuttered. Cancer? That explained her disappearing hair and weight loss. Eric turned to Brent, who was staring at his phone. He handed his coworker the order slip and started making several different cups of coffee to go.

He arrived at the hospital an hour later, three to-go trays in hand, as well as a bag of pastries. The receptionist checked him in, explained about the visitor policy, then told him to take the elevator to the third floor. Eric’s palms were sweaty, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. Emma would probably be angry with him for appearing when she was at her weakest, but he knew that the moment she reentered his life, he wouldn’t be able to forget her.

Emma was asleep in her bed, her chest rising and falling with the steady beep of the monitor. For a moment, he sat, letting the smell of the coffee circulate throughout the room.

“Is that my barista?” Emma grumbled, gradually waking.

“Yeah, and I’ve brought all my recommendations.”

Her pale lips pulled into a smile. “I knew it was your coffee keeping me alive.”

“I’ll keep bringing it for you. Every day if I have to.”

“I’d like that,” she whispered.

Eric took her hand. “And when you’re better, let’s go to Greece and Turkey. I’ve heard good things about their coffee.”

She squeezed his fingers in return. “It’s a date.”

-

Thank you for reading the first of my 5 Minute Stories collection, The Barista. If you enjoyed this story, please consider subscribing to get notified about more releases. 5 Minute Stories will be released at least once a week, every Thursday (and potentially Saturday). Genres will include romance, romantasy, fantasy, sci-fi, and horror.

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