Her Red Trench

The cafe was busy as John walked through its heavy wooden doors. He waltzed through the cloud of noise to a small round table for two in the back where his ex-wife sat in a red coat. He dodged waiters and customers as they weaved through the maze of tables and took a seat in front of her; greeting her with a wave.

“You’re late.” she said as she pulled up her black hair into a messy bun. Her coffee had been reduced to a dark ring at the bottom of a white cup.

“Sorry. Sorry. I had a meeting.”

“How many meetings are you going to go to before she’s too old, John?”

“Kate. It’s was just a meeting. I’ll make it up to her, I always do.”

Kate sighed and looked at the door across the cafe. She said nothing as she tapped her black heal on the ground beneath the table.

Looking back at her empty coffee cup she said “I would have ordered you something but I figured you’d be late. You always are.”

“Has she already come over here?”

“Yeah, John. She did and you weren’t there, again. I let you have her on the weekends because I didn’t want her to have to grow up without a father, but that’s exactly what is happening to her, John. She hasn’t seen you in two months. What do you think that does to her?”

“Not Rosie, the waitress.”

“What are you going to do to make it up to her? You can’t keep doing this.”

“Look, Katie. Let’s talk about this after I get my coffee alright?”

Kate wrapped her trench coat tighter around her chest and wrapped her arms around it to keep it in place. John rose his hand and flagged down a waitress three tables away.

“Hello, Sir? What can I get you?”

“A small coffee. I want two pumps of vanilla in it. Not one, not three, two.”

“Would you like that for here or to go?”

Before John could answer Kate rose from her seat.

“He’ll take it to go.”

John looked up at Kate as she stood by the waitress.

“What the hell are you doing, Kate? Why are you leaving?”

He noticed dark red rings around Kate’s blue eyes and tears falling down her red cheeks.

“You’re not a father, John. Maybe once a long time ago, but not anymore. I can’t watch you tear her apart like this. I won’t. Don’t call, John. Not ever.”

John and the waitress stood in silence as they watched Kate walk through the heavy wooden doors.

“Sir, I can come back if you’d like.”

“Can you believe that?”

The waitress stood still and said nothing before John spoke again.

“No. No. It’s fine. Change it to a large and I’ll have it here. Oh, one of those pastries too.”

The waitress nodded and walked towards the counter.

John looked back at the door as it shut. He watched Kate’s red trench coat turn the corner as he folded his arms over his chest and sighed. He sat still; staring at the empty coffee cup and the unoccupied seat before him. A waitress walked by and picked up the empty cup.

“Are you done with this, sir?”

“No not yet. Leave it there will you?”

The waitress set it down and pushed the seat in closer to the table and looked toward the door before looking back.

“Sure.”

John nodded and stared at the cafe door; waiting to see a red trench coat; only to find it motionless.

Author's Note

A quick scene I made up to play around with dialogue.

Reviews

[Franklin...]

Since you say this was just to play around with dialog, I dunno if you're interested in these thoughts or not:
"John walked through its heavy wooden doors. He walked through the cloud of noise" Maybe change one 'walked' to something like 'strode' to avoid repetition
"...to a small round table for two in the back where a woman in a red coat sat. After realizing the woman with the red trench coat was his ex-wife, Kate, he walked to the other side of the cafe;" This sounds like he sees her and walks in the opposite direction.
"“Not Rosie, the waitress.”" Haha.
"she stood with by the waitress" 'with' or 'by'?
"“Are you done with this sure?”" 'sir' I think

But anyways, nice job with this scene. Short as it is, I already felt like I had a pretty good idea of their personalities by the end. And that, I think, is one of the most important roles dialog plays in a story.