The Coffee Shop
One particularly gloomy Tuesday, after yet another rejection email landed in my inbox, I dragged myself to Perks & Brews, a cozy little coffee shop three blocks from my apartment.
I’d been coming here almost daily since my firing, less for the coffee and more for the human interaction. Eleanor, the silver-haired owner in her mid-sixties, greeted me with her usual warm smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
‘The usual, Cathy?’ she asked, already reaching for a mug.
Something about her grandmotherly demeanor made me feel safe, and before I knew it, I was spilling my entire saga – the videos, the affair, the settlement, and now the soul-crushing job hunt.
Eleanor listened intently, occasionally nodding as she wiped down the counter. When I finally ran out of steam, she set a fresh slice of banana bread in front of me.
‘Sounds to me like you’ve got skills that are being wasted,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘You know how to run things, you care about people, and you’ve got business sense.’ She paused, glancing around her shop with a wistful expression.
‘Funny timing, actually. I’ve been thinking about selling this place. My arthritis is getting worse, and my daughter in Arizona keeps begging me to move closer.’ I nearly choked on my coffee. Was she suggesting what I thought she was suggesting?
The idea hit me like a bolt of lightning – so obvious I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it myself.