Jettie Woodruff - Underestimated

I had a hard time falling asleep, and when I finally did, I woke to a pounding heart and sweating profusely. My dream was so real, and it took me several minutes to calm myself down and convince my conscious that it wasn’t real, and I was fine.

I walked to the kitchen and got a drink of water, still trying to forget the dream. It was early morning, and I watched Lauren leave for work. Rather than going back to bed like I needed to, I ran a hot tub of water and tried to relax. I really needed to stop thinking about Drew. I was not Morgan Kelley. I was Riley Murphy, and Drew Kelley would never hurt me again. This was my life. I was not Drew Kelley’s wife. I had my own life, and I could now live it however, I pleased.

I honestly did just think I could walk away and forget the past twenty five years of my life. Needless to say, it wasn’t working, just yet. Maybe I did need to seek counseling. Ms. K had suggested it. No. I don’t need counseling. I just need to focus on my future and not my past. I can do this. I closed my eyes and breathed in the steam from the hot water, giving myself the much needed pep talk.

I made coffee and turned the radio station to Z-103. I sat on my new sofa and listened to Lauren and this guy, Levi. I was actually laughing. They had a psychic on the show, and people were calling in to find out how old they would be when they died. I laughed out loud when one caller was telling the two how much she enjoyed their show. She explained that she only had one complaint, and as soon as she said it, Lauren hung up on her, saying their egos wouldn’t handle complaints.

I was overly impressed with their morning show and was even starting to like the country music that they had played. That was until they played a song by Shania Twain, ‘Black eyes and blue tears,’ something about no more excuses, no more crying in the corner and no more bruises. As soon as the country singer wailed out begging, please no more, I jumped up and turned off the radio. It was just too close to home, and my scars were still too raw to cope with the words.

I searched through my closet to find something to wear to work. What the hell do you wear to a coffee slash hippy store? How do the two even go together? I decided on a pair of dark jeans that didn’t quite fit. They could have been a size smaller. I was definitely going shopping my next day off. I wore a plaid, green and white shirt and tucked it into my jeans, hoping maybe to use up some of the slack. I brushed out my shoulder length hair and pulled just the top back, leaving one strand to fall around my face.

I was nervous as I parked my car in the back alley where I was told to park. I saw the back door, but wondered if I should I use the front door my first day. I didn’t have to decide when Starlight came out with a bag of trash.

“Good morning,” she said with a happy smile.

Starlight wore a long flowing skirt with sandals and a sixties looking shirt with some sort of Indian design, and long flowing sleeves.

“Good morning,” I smiled back.

Starlight shook my hand, and the first thing that I noticed was the peace sign tattoo between her thumb and forefinger.

“Well, come on in,” she exclaimed and I followed her in.

The door opened to a storage room with boxes and boxes of I had no idea what. I looked in the first door as we passed. It was an extremely messy office with stacks and stacks of papers. This could be a problem with my OCD. Everything had a place, and I couldn’t even blame that one on Drew. Even when I lived at home growing up, the dump that we occupied was as clean as the place would allow. Maybe I tried to make it better than what I knew it could ever be, but for some reason it had always stuck with me.

“You can throw your purse in here,” Starlight stopped at the office door. “Just remember where you put it. Things seem to come up missing in here,” she joked, and I raised my eyebrows.

I wonder why.

We walked out to the front, and there was a counter with a register and too much junk. Oh boy, I thought, wondering if I could handle the mess. The part of the store on the far side was supposed to be the coffee shop. The part by the register was the hippy shop. Or something. I hadn’t quite figured out what she had going on in all of the chaos just yet. There was everything you could think of including a big glass bong displayed in a glass case. No wonder she was so happy.

“Go ahead, look around,” Starlight gestured with her hand.

I noticed three older gentlemen at a table in front of the window, drinking coffee and arguing about what year some bridge had been built. I thumbed through the shirts and pants rack and then moved over to the shelves. Starlight had every kind of tea imaginable. There were shelves of little figurines, and I had already fallen in love with a miniature little boy in jean overalls rolled up to his knees and holding onto two little puppies as they licked his cinched face.

“Would you like some coffee?” Starlight asked.

“Sure,” I replied and hoped she wasn’t going to offer me the breast milk.

I followed her over to the coffee bar and was relieved when she asked me what my flavor was.

“French vanilla?” I said in more of a question, wondering if she had it.

“The best,” she answered, and she was right. It was the richest coffee I had ever tasted.

I wondered why she would hire me to work there, after only seeing three customers stopping into get coffee after three hours. I didn’t think she could have that much business to pay me. I got my answer around three o’clock when she decided that she should show me how to order the teas and coffees.

“Come on,” she said and I followed her to her confusing office. “We only have a week to get you up to speed before I leave.”

“Leave?”

“Yeah, I am flying to Australia for few weeks. I usually just close the place up, but my usual patrons are getting pretty tired of me just closing up and leaving. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Truck comes in on Tuesday. I will show you how to keep the coffee machines going. Saturday mornings are pretty crazy in here, but the good news is, you only have to ring them up. They get their own coffee. Phyllis brings pastries from her bakery on Saturdays and Millie brings the best deli sandwiches ever on Wednesday afternoons. That empty cold case by the counter is where you will put them. We always sell out of them or pretty close to it anyway.”

“If the pastries and deli sandwiches do so well, why don’t you sell them every day?” I asked, curious.

“Nah, that’s too much work, besides I don’t want people hanging out in here every day,” she teased.

I did like Starlight and Lauren was right, the lady was as Bohemian as you could get. I don’t think the devil could have pissed her off.

I was slowly beginning to relax and fall deeply in love with my new life. I would almost say I had a delightful routine going. Wake up and laugh to Lauren and Levi in the morning, laugh some more with Starlight during the day, drink too much coffee, eat dinner with Lauren, and walk on the beach. By the end of the week I knew everything that I needed to know to be able to keep the shop up and running, not that any monkey couldn’t learn it, but still. I liked my job other than the fact that it needed a good cleaning which I was planning to talk to Starlight about that day, her last day with me. I didn’t want to step on her toes, but come on, I didn’t know how in the world she kept her books up with the mess in the office.

It was well into the afternoon when I finally worked up the nerve to ask.

“Starlight, I was wondering if it would be okay if I done some cleaning and organizing while you were away,” I asked, really fast. I always had a problem with asking for things, even growing up, and it was worse with Drew. He always made me earn it one way or another. Why was my heart beating so fast? It wasn’t like I asked to remodel the place or anything. The worse thing that could happen was she would say no.