Selena Kitt - Blind Date

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* * * *

Annie circled the block three times before finally seeing the little coffee shop tucked away between two larger restaurants. Damn! She was twenty minutes late by her watch. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, her eyes swept the building as she clicked the button to automatically lock her car door. There was only a hand-made sign propped in the corner of the dirty glass in calligraphied letters: Demi-Cafe. She had worried on the way over how she was going to recognize Eric’s mother in a crowd, but now Annie didn’t think that was going to be a problem.

She swung the door open to the sound of tinkling bells and took a step back at the powerful smell of the place. It was an exotic blend of darkness-

coffee, chocolate and spice. Her sense of smell was keen these days. The tables appeared empty. There was a man behind the counter, working the cappuccino machine from the sounds of it.

Annie stood for a moment, chewing her lip and fingering her keys. What am I doing here? Maybe Chloe’s right, she thought, remembering her sister’s sarcastic comment, “When it comes to Annie’s Eric-quest, Obsession isn’t just a new scent from Calvin Klein.”

“Annie! Yes? My, you are lovely. Come! Sit!”

Annie whirled at the sound of the voice to her left. Beyond the window, tucked away in a cornered nook table was a woman of indeterminable age. Her blonde hair was piled up onto her head in a mass of swoops and swirls, and her mouth was smiling, but her eyes were not. She’s had work done. She held a hand out, beckoning, her fingers long and slender and decorated with rings.

Annie moved into the seat across from her, taking the extended hand in the delicate squeeze of a feminine handshake. Her skin was like cream.

“Mrs-uh…Eric’s mother?” Annie doubted it even as she spoke the words.

This is someone’s mother?

The woman laughed, and in it, Annie heard Eric’s laugh. Only it was lighter, like silver tinged with lavender, instead of his deep golden tone. “That’s me, darling. You can call me Dita. Only my best friends do.” She smiled then, as if she were sharing a secret. Annie settled her purse, shrugged off her light jacket and glanced toward the counter. She couldn’t drink coffee, but something wet would be good. Her throat was dry.

“So tell me, how do you know my wandering son?” Dita asked.

“I-” Annie averted her eyes, trying to remember the lie she had told, and noticed that the man behind the counter was moving to bring a tray over to their table.

“Oh, don’t bother with that reunion thing, sweetie. I know better. Girls still call daily for my boy.” She laughed again, and Annie was transfixed by the sound.

“Dita.” The man bent to put a steaming cup and saucer in front of her.

“Your special.” The accent was thick and probably Latino, Annie judged. He also placed two large, over-full paper bags of beans on the center of the table.

“Can I get a diet Sprite or…something without caffeine?” Annie asked.

“Oh, don’t drink that hideous syrup! Bring her a chocolate, Joss.” Annie raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything as Joss nodded his head in assent and left them. “You grind your own?” she asked, indicating the bags and she peered around them to see the older woman.

“I roast my own,” Dita corrected, pointing out the lighter colored beans.

“These are raw coffee beans. Quite a powerful stimulant.” She lifted one of the darker beans, holding it out in her hand for Annie to take. “These…smell…” she urged.

Annie drew in a deep breath, the aroma deliciously soothing. “Wow!”

“Yes.” Dita nodded. “Pure cocoa beans. They are a very strong aphrodisiac.”

Annie flushed as Dita studied her face. “So, about Eric-”

“Yes, Eric. You were about to tell me how you know him.”

Annie sighed and cleared her throat. “I met him at a Valentine’s party three months ago. He was hiding in the dark under my sister’s kitchen table. We spent the night talking.”

Dita sipped her drink, her eyes on Annie’s face. “Go on.” Annie knew it sounded crazy, but Dita seemed unfazed. “Well, he wouldn’t let me turn on the light. He didn’t want me to see him. So we stayed under the table, and we…talked.” Annie felt warm and pressed her hand to her cheek to cool it. “When we left, I promised him I wouldn’t turn on the light. He didn’t want me to see his face in the light.”

Joss returned with a large mug of hot chocolate. Dita thanked him and he nodded, his eyes warm. Annie busied herself with the drink, not wanting to tell the rest of the story. Dita sipped and waited.

“I broke my promise to him,” Annie admitted, rubbing the rim of the mug and sucking the sweetness of cream off her finger to chase the bitter taste of the words from her mouth. “I listened to my sisters, and I turned on the light. I haven’t seen him since.”

Dita wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Yes. I know.”

“You know?” Annie met her eyes, feeling like someone had punched her in the stomach.

“Yes.” Dita tucked her napkin under her saucer. “He told me about you. Do you think I invite every girl who calls looking for him out to coffee?” Annie gripped her mug, her eyes wide. “How did you know it was me? The story about the reunion…I only gave you my first name…”

“Caller I.D., dear.” This time Dita’s eyes were smiling, but her mouth was not. “Isn’t the modern world a wonderful thing?” Annie sat back in her chair, feeling warm and woozy. “So can you tell me where he is?”

Dita shrugged one shoulder. “In a manner of speaking. I can tell you where he will most likely be.”

Annie’s mouth tightened. “Now I know where Eric got all his mysterious bullshit from.”

Dita laughed, and this time it was like silver heat. “Perhaps.” Annie rose, snatching for her purse. “Excuse me a moment.”

“Of course, dear.”

Annie’s purse strap snagged and pulled the chair, bumping the table edge as she tugged. She gasped as she watched the two paper bags totter and tip.

She moved to catch them, but the rich, glossy beans spilled onto the floor. She stood stooped, transfixed, her hands still out to catch the impossible flood, her eyes wide and mouth agape.

Dita’s eyes met hers. “Well…that’s a mess.”

“I’m so sorry!” Annie swept the beans up with a fist and began to put them back into one of the bags. “I’m sure he has more. I’ll pay for them. It was my fault.”

“Please, don’t mix them,” Dita cautioned her, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry.” Annie dropped the bag, her whole body feeling like a bright red apology as she crouched on the tile floor.

“These are still usable,” Dita explained. “He only gets a shipment once every three months.”

Annie surveyed the scattered disarray of mixed beans. “I’ll pick them up, then.”

“That would be kind of you. I’ll be back to help you in a moment.” Dita smiled down at her as she stepped carefully through the widespread litter of beans. “And please, cocoa in one, coffee in another. Yes?” Annie nodded, her head pounding. It will take forever to sort all these! She sighed, lining the two bags up on the floor and squatting down. She glanced at her watch. She was supposed to meet a client in half an hour. There wasn’t anything else to do but begin putting the raw, light-colored beans in one bag and the dark, aromatic beans in the other. After a few moments, her back began to hurt and she carefully cleared a spot to sit, cross-legged on the floor as she sorted.

The tile felt cool under her bare legs. Good thing it isn’t winter anymore.

She remembered how cold the tile was in her sister’s kitchen that night. She could see Eric’s hands, and she could feel his mouth, burning against her neck.

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