At least, that was the story Jhon liked to tell. His wife, Maria, could go on and on about their courtship, about how it was love at first sight, and how they bonded over their passion for coffee. It was in the stars, she said. It was destiny.
Whatever it was, Café San Jhon had a loyal fanbase of coffee lovers. It was not the type of place that was frequented by tourists—since Jhon had an aversion to advertising and to the media in general—but he and Maria had enough friends to keep the place not just afloat but comfortable. They liked it that way, Jhon once told me when I tried to give him some marketing tips to bring in more revenue; they were happy where they were.
As soon as we stepped out of the car, the smell of freshly roasted beans embraced us.
“It smells incredible,” Elly commented, surveying the small building and the patio out front, covered by a wide awning.
I nodded. “Best coffee in the world.”
Even years later, I would remember this next moment. It played so many times in my mind that every detail was clear and concise.
Along with their beauty, these older side streets of the city were known for their potholes. We locals just got used to them, our feet walking as if on default around each one, knowing instinctively where each was spread out across the street. Elly, of course, was not a local. She was also still injured and clearly in pain.
Her eyes were on the banner over the front door of Jhon’s coffee shop. Her feet moved, one, two, a couple more steps towards the entrance, but she did not see the small crevice in the stone path, a crack between rocks. Just like out there on the court, her feet did not follow her mind. One foot was at one moment moving forward, the next stuck in the hole as the rest of her body was thrown violently forward. Her arms were out in front of her, to save the rest of her body from the impact. It happened so fast—at one moment she was walking, the next she was in the air.
The next, she was pressed against my chest. My arm was still wrapped around her waist, the arm I had used to grab her, to pull her away from the brutal fall. To pull her to me. Our beating hearts pressed just centimeters away from each other.
“Wha?” Her eyes darted back to the spot she had nearly met a little too intimately. Her eyes hovered over the pothole.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you,” I whispered. “They’re everywhere around here.” With Elly so close, whispering felt like the only right way to communicate. Her ear was beside my mouth. My lips. I was almost scared to move.
She was still breathing hard.
Slowly, I helped her straighten up. “Are you okay?” My voice was more urgent than I intended it to be. Her fall had scared me, even though I wasn’t going to admit it to her out loud.
Elly was trembling. She couldn’t speak. Nor did she make any effort to move.
We stood like that for a few minutes, waiting for her to relax. Finally, she raised her head.
“Sebastian. Thank you. You…well I guess you were kind of a hero.” There was still a tremble on her lips but the smile was there.
Sebastian, this is business. Don’t get too involved! Don’t let your heart take over.
I nodded curtly. “Here, place your arms on my shoulders.” I leaned forward and scooped her up in my arms. In a few swift moves, we were at my favorite corner of the coffee shop. In a corner by the window with a clear view of the street.
I hadn’t intended to bring attention to us. But as if on cue, Maria was by our table in two seconds flat
“And who might this be,primo,” she asked innocently. I was immediately suspicious. I didn’t want word going around about Elly and me before we had set a plan.
“Señora Maria. How are we on this fine day? I see Jhon is busy…”
Maria ignored me and turned to Elly. “Call me, Maria,querida. And your name?”
Maria was a woman who walked in her own way. Today, she had her long thick curls brushed back into a neat bun, her eyebrows drawn thickly in an expression of constant surprise. Maria always wore the brightest of colors. Flaming red. Vibrant yellow. Sizzling oranges. Today it was a flaming red. If there was ever a dress to best describe Maria, that dress was it.
Elly smiled shyly at her. “My name is Elly…”
“Elly.” I interrupted. The moment Elly gave out her surname, that would be the moment half of the city would know. I couldn’t have that. Not until we had a plan down.
Maria gave me a disapproving glance, almost a glare. “Careful with this one, Elly. He can be a real…” Maria made a gesture. She was not the type to hold back.
“Yes, I did notice,” Elly said, smiling in Maria’s direction. The two were already plotting against me. Great.
“Ah, American? Whereabouts…” Maria began turning her back on me. If I didn’t do something now, there would be no plan. There would be no time to plan.
“Can I have the usual, Maria? Elly, what would you like?” I pitched in, loudly. Making myself very clearly heard.
Maria sighed in annoyance. Elly took a quick browse through the menu.