The Coffee Shop

He was sitting in the brown sofa chair next to the door of the coffee shop. He had a newspaper in his hands, but his eyes searched out the window anxiously.
"Are you sure you don't want anything while you wait?" I asked.
"No," he answered with a hopeful smile, "She'll be here soon."


The words had just left his lips when the door opened and she walked in. There was nothing special about her appearance at first glance. She had ash blond hair that hung straight to her shoulders and she wore a band tee and jeans. She looked plain and shy. It was her smile that revealed who she was. It was the brightest, most beautiful smile. It was genuine, and she used it to life the hearts of everyone around her without even knowing it. She smiled a lot, and she could always find a reason to smile. She was confidant in herself, although she didn't look like it. You could tell she loved being herself, even in her baggy tee and jeans. She had a hard time with words, not being able to get sentences out quite right. It didn't really matter, a smile was all she needed.


He rose from the sofa and embraced her, kissing her sweetly. They held each other for several minutes. It seemed like they hadn't seen each other in years, like they had been waiting for this moment for a long time.


I studied them for a moment. They were wrapped  in each others' arms and in their own world. They looked odd together, but cute. He had messy brown hair and deep brown eyes. His feet were too big for his size and he hunched his shoulders. He would remind anyone of a lost puppy. Especially with those eyes.


When they ordered, I was surprised that she took her coffee black. Thin little thing she was, but I had to hand it to her, she had spunk.
"So how long have you two been together?" I asked while preparing their drinks.
He seemed surprised by the question, but the girl glanced at her wristwatch and said, "Hmmm...about five minutes."
I was even more surprised by her answer. "Oh." It was all I could think to say.
"It's kind of a long story," he added, putting his arm around her shoulders.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I just thought that after working here three years I wouldn't be surprised by anything anymore."
Neither of them answered, but the girl smiled, putting me at ease.
When I handed them their coffee, he raised his sturdy Styrofoam cup and said, "Cheers. See you next year."


And I didn't see them again until that very same day in the next year. Year after year they would walk through those doors, kiss in that very same spot, order the same drinks, and he would just smile and say, "See you next year."


I worked there for six years, wondering about the annual kiss. I had to admit, I felt slightly jealous. The absolute admiration they had for each other seemed to overflow and sometimes it made me wish I had a special someone of my own. It's been twenty years since I worked at that coffee shop. In fact, it's not even a coffee shop anymore, but a small shoe store.


I'd forgotten all about the couple until a few days ago when I was browsing the shoe store for some new shoes. The bell hanging on the door chimed and when I looked, there they were. They were much older now, but it was them for certain. She had on a sweater and had cheerful crows' feet resting on the corners of her eyes. He no longer had messy brown hair, he actually seemed to have lost some of it over the years. His shoulders still hunched, but those brown eyes were just the same. They stood just inside the door and kissed, right in the same spot they always did.


I couldn't help but stare in surprise.
Just before leaving he turned to me with a smile and said, "See you next year."