Kismet, Coffee and A Little Black Book

James shook her phone letting out an exasperated cry.

The battery was almost dead and she, just three days new to the city, was utterly lost. And on top of that, her first story for her dream job, a writer for the trendy Rambler paper and website, was due tomorrow. She never thought she’d be able to make a living writing, then out of nowhere, after months of applying to jobs across the country, she got a call from the editor of The Rambler.

The editor wanted to highlight a column from the perspective of someone brand new to city. Given the amount of transplants that had been steadily flooding in the past few years, she thought the column would appeal that crowd. James would be able to write about anything. Moving, dating, food, music… She couldn’t believe her luck. The last three weeks were a blur as she said goodbye to her friends and family in Michigan, packed up her car and set off across the country.

Now here she was, the beginning of summer, in Seattle. She had found a room to rent in an apartment in the heart of the “nightlife” part of the city and spend the past two days unpacking, and to her embarrassment, not leaving the apartment. Waking up to an email from her new boss asking if her first column was ready had shook her back to the stark reality that she had written absolutely nothing since she’d arrived. So, deciding to do what she always did when she needed to think. She took a walk. Pulling her thick black hair into a pony tail, she grabbed her phone and keys and just walked out the door. She had stopped for a coffee and continued walking, after a sip, she noted this would be one of her regular places.

The weather was warm and the sun was out, so were all the residents of Seattle it seemed. The place buzzed with that excitement that comes from the first days of summer. James smiled, taking in the city and making notes on her phone for what she might want to write about. This thrill of discovering everything new lasted for an hour or so until she looked at her phone and realized she had forgotten to charge it the night before. It was at two percent. She looked up and realized she had no idea where she was. She had stupidly forgotten to bring anything else, which would have been a smart idea, she thought, as someone new in a city. A charger, her wallet, a map. Without her phone charged she wouldn’t be able to call a ride or pay for anything.

James could feel the panic rising and her skin flushing red. “How could I be so stupid!” The words spewed out of her as she kicked a rock. Closing her eyes, she took a breath. “Breath,” she said aloud, looking around to make sure no one was witnessing her meltdown. “I am capable, I can find my way home” she whispered, now self-conscience as a group of teenagers walked by.

She was about to set off to find her way home when she saw it. On the ground, barely noticeable and covered by leaves, was a little black notebook. Walking over to it, she glanced around. She was alone. As the city sounds continued to play in the background, James picked up the notebook. It was a simple black notebook. The kind she used to carry everywhere when she first dreamed of being a writer. She brushed the leaves off the cover feeling the smooth surface under her fingertips. She had missed that feeling. The weight of the words and stories she created in her hands. The words coming to life as the pen slid across the paper and the smell. She had always loved the smell of bookstores and libraries.

Looking around again she opened to notebook. On the first page was a name, Corey. And weirdly, there was an address under the “belonging to” section. Flipping the pages James was amazed to find that this was not just any little notebook. This was somebody’s idea for phone App. As she flipped through the pages she felt like she was intruding into somebodies thoughts and stopped, but the writer in her that needed to understand everything made her dive back in. Page after page, the book was painstakingly filled with the idea and design for the App. She could tell so much time and care had gone into this little black notebook…and that this was an amazing idea, one she hadn’t seen before.

James sat down on a bench with the notebook her lap. Closing her eyes she sat back and let the sun radiate on her face. Her mind was buzzing with the idea in the notebook. And suddenly, she knew what she had to do. She was going to find this Corey and she was going to return their notebook. Taking a deep breath she opened her eyes to get up and jumped. A woman had sat down next to her and was reading a book. James hadn’t noticed her sit down. Startled, she got up and was about to leave, but remembered, she had no idea where she was. Looking at the woman, she sat back down.

“Excuse me, I’m new to the city and looking for a place” she said then read off the address asking woman if she knew how to get there. The woman smiled and looked at James. “I was new here a couple years ago myself” she said. “I forget how big this city can feel when you’re new.” The woman asked for the street again, and after James re- read the address the woman sat back and thought.

“That’s about two miles away, you just go up this street” she pointed to her right. “If you follow this street it will take you to the one you’re looking for. A coffee shop I sometimes go to is on that street I think. The address should be nearby”. James asked the woman for pen and felt bad but given that she was already lost, wrote the name of the coffee shop the woman mentioned on the front page of the notebook next to the Corey’s name. Smiling, she wrote a small message about how great this idea is and that she hoped it gets created. Without thinking she signed her name. Mortified, she was about to cross it out but stopped, she had already written in someone else’s notebook, after going through it. She had invaded enough. Handing the pen back to the woman, thanking her, James started up the street. “Good luck sweetie” the woman said as she turned back to her book.

Without her phone, James couldn’t tell the time. It felt like hours until she reached the street from the notebook. Looking around she saw the coffee shop the woman mentioned. Excitement and adrenalin surged through her body. She did it, well sort of, she found the street! Deciding to just ask where the address was in the coffee shop, she headed inside. The place was that perfect place writers always seek out. Not too busy, art on the walls and just the right music playing in the background.

“What can I get for ya?” The barista asked as James stepped up to the counter. “Um, I’m actually looking for an address near here and was hoping to be pointed in the right direction” James said, with as much confidence in her voice as she could muster. She read the address to the girl who then started laughing as she re-tied her apron strings that had falling lose to her sides. “Well, you’re in luck” the girl said still laughing as if a joke had been told. James just looked at her unsure of what to say next. “Um… James muttered. Smiling kindly, the girl interrupted. “You’re here, this is the address you’re looking for.” Stunned, James looked around, feeling that sensation of kismet everyone feels at one point or the other when things in life just line up. “Does…” James looked back at the girl. “Do you know a Corey?” “Oh, yea, that’s him” The girl said pointing to guy wiping tables in the back of the shop. James was so shocked she forgot to say thank you to the girl. “This is crazy,” she thought, turning towards the guy. He looked to be in his mid-twenties with shaggy brown hair.

She slowly walked towards him, he didn’t stop wiping the table when she finally stood next to him. James didn’t know what to say, she hadn’t planned this part in her head. Her hand shaking, she set the notebook on the table he was wiping. Freezing mid-swipe, the guy stared at the notebook. She could see his eyes tear up above the mass of freckles on his cheeks. Looking up at her incredulously and then back to the notebook. He slid his fingers over the cover and opened its pages seemingly shocked and as if a thousand prayers he’d uttered the last couple days had been answered. When he looked up again, James was gone.

Six months later, James was in love with her city.

The column had gained a fan-base. Her first piece of getting lost, finding treasure and finding her way home had been a hit. She had made a few good friend and felt surer of herself every day. That first coffee shop she had visited, it had become her place, where the baristas knew her name and where almost all of her articles were written.

She was there, sipping her usual, deciding which piece to submit next when someone pulled out the chair at the other end of the table. “I’m almost done” she said looking up only to be staring into the eyes of the guy she affectionately called “The notebook guy.” Startled she just stared as he sat down.

After an hour had passed by, James learned that Corey’s lost notebook had been the only thing he’d used to work on his App idea up to that point, which he laughed and said was ironic since it was about creating tech. She learned that since then he’d actually made his App and sold it to one of the large tech companies the city was known for. He found himself reading one of her articles a month ago and realized that she was the “notebook girl.” That he needed to find her and thank her, as he put it, for saving his idea. He was about to give up and take it as a sign to quit trying after he lost his notebook. The storybook way she had appeared out of nowhere it had convinced him the App was meant to be.

“So, James, I cannot thank you enough for what you did.” Corey said across the table. James smiled, “I was happy to help,” she told him. “It made me feel less lost and helpless like had felt earlier that day. I was able to help someone.”

As he got up to go, he placed little black notebook on the table. It was wrapped in a blue ribbon. James ran her hand over it’ surface, slowly unwrapping the ribbon. She opened the cover and froze. There, tucked inside was check written out to her, for twenty thousand dollars. She looked up to say something to Corey, but he was gone. “That’s my move”, she chuckled. Looking past the check, she saw that Corey had written

“Thank You James, You saved this App and deserve a piece of it.”

Under that, she noticed he’d written an address with a date and time with a question mark. The shock of the check wearing off still, a slow smile spread over James’s lips.

She remembered that address, the coffee shop where they first met.