The Foam Between Our Fingers

The Foam Between Our Fingers

A Story by Jenna

It was raining, the type of rain that comes on suddenly and drenches you. I tucked my chin under the collar of my coat and made a mad dash for the cafe. Inside I'm greeted by the comforting smell of coffee roasting and steamed milk. To my left there's a lady sipping an espresso and tapping away on her laptop. The cafe is pretty much empty. 
"Hi may I help you?" I wipe rain drops out of my eyelashes. A girl with the deepest red hair I've ever seen is smiling at me from behind the counter. 
"Oh yes. I would like a Hazelnut Vanilla Latte with a shot of Pumpkin and whipped cream. Large." I say fumbling around in my coat pocket for my wallet. 
"Great that will be 5.25." She says. I look up and notice a smattering of freckles across her nose. Which is a contrast to her milk colored skin. I avert my gaze and hand her a ten. 
"It should be just a couple of minutes. What was your name?" She asks handing me back my change. 
Her lips quirk up. "Pretty name. It matches your features."
"Sorry?" I ask confused as to what she meant. She pours milk into a blender. 
"Well you have tan skin, black hair and hazel eyes. The name is exotic, Eastern just like how you look."
I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks. Not sure why I'm embarrassed. I've always felt unsure about my name. Some days I like, some days I don't. But she hit the nail on the head. Mom is from Morocco. She's good. 
After waiting around a couple of minutes she brings me,  my drink. 
"One Hazelnut Vanilla Latte with pumpkin and whipped cream." She says smiling at me. I smile back. 
"What was your name?" I asked her partly out of curiosity and to be polite. 
"Fern." She says wiping down her area. 
"That's a cool name. Unique." 
"My mom was an aspiring Botanist." she tucks a few stray red strands behind her ear. 
"She isn't anymore?" I asked between sips of my latte. Tasty. She did a great job. 
"No, she kills everything. What is the opposite of a green thumb? Black?"
Funny. Fern has a quick sense of humor. I felt warm and not just from the coffee. They say good conversation can make you feel warm. 
Tucking my wallet back in my pocket I say "Well I guess she grew one thing beautifully." I smile and head toward the door. 
Fern was wiping down the counter with a glow, like a plant thriving in the sunlight. Feeling like I have just spent a day in a warm Spring breeze, I didn't even notice the rain still pouring down. 

© 2019 Jenna

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Added on August 11, 2014
Last Updated on February 8, 2019
Tags: love, cafe, coffee



Pensacola, FL


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