You Read My Mind!

Coffee Break Tale

I’d like a…” What would I like? I gazed at the board behind the counter aware of people waiting behind me. “…a cappuccino, extra chocolate.” I glanced around at the man who had finished my sentence. How impertinent! He was grinning. A cappuccino with extra chocolate, though. That sounded good, despite a stranger with a nice smile suggesting it and finishing my sentence.

Still, this was me, pre-morning coffee; I don’t engage with people at this time in the morning. I won’t be told what to do.

“A skinny latte,” I said. “Thank you. Eating in.” As I was missing out on the chocolate sprinkles I added a muffin to my order, picked up a newspaper and headed for the window seat. “May I…?” he asked, hopefully. I glanced around the café. The only other free seat was close by, next to two women deep in conversation. He was standing there, cappuccino man, waiting for my reply. Very polite, really. The place was so busy I could hardly object, and I wasn’t going to be there long.

“Please, go ahead,” I said, and he did, placing the largest cappuccino with extra chocolate I have ever seen on the table. And a croissant. Nearly as good as a muffin. I tried to read the paper. “I’m Richard,” he said. “You’re…?” Now I don’t know about you but I don’t usually exchange names with strangers who finish my sentences before sitting opposite me, disturbing my peace. I was a bit disinclined to finish his sentence for him, and then I thought about making something up. Giselle. I’d always fancied being a Giselle. I hesitated. “Lisa,” I said. Fessing up. Perhaps I should have had an espresso. Then the lie might have come more easily. “I think my name’s a bit…” “…mundane? I know mine is.” He had read my mind and, yet again, finished my sentence. He was lucky he had sparkly blue eyes to match that grin and my latte was working its magic, else I’d have thought him quite rude. “I think my name is magical,” I said. He chuckled. We both knew that wasn’t true. Lisa’s a good, solid kind of name, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not magical. Not like Giselle.

“What do you think he did?” Richard asked, nodding in the direction of the two women who were still showing shock and awe at whatever the “he” they were discussing was guilty of.

Now I’m not much of a morning person. I work from home as a graphic designer. I pop out each morning to stretch my legs and wake myself up with a coffee. I don’t expect to have to undertake small talk too. “Maybe he killed her,” I said. “Gosh. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought he married her. I’m a bit of a romantic, see. But I’m prepared to go with your suggestion. It’s more…” “…interesting,” I said. “…scary,” he replied. “I’m too scared to contradict you.”

Those eyes again. We finished quite a few more of each other’s sentences while he drained his cappuccino and hoovered up crumbs of croissant. My muffin was long gone. As was the irritation I felt at the counter. Must be the coffee.

“I best be getting on,” Richard said. “Things to do, wages to earn.” He looked rather regretful.

“I’ve enjoyed our chat,” I told him. You’ve brightened my morning.” Which was true, but why did I say it aloud? This is me, Lisa, hermit extraordinaire.

“Me too,” he said. “How about we meet again here, say…” “…tomorrow, same time?” I jumped in. “I was going to say this time next week, but tomorrow sounds even better.”

“It’s a date.” I flushed. A date? Had I really said that? “Looking forward to it.” This time we both spoke the same words at exactly the same time. Even the two women looked around. We both grinned. Tomorrow I’ll have the cappuccino with extra chocolate. And I’ll order the same for Richard, too.