10.2
Eight people were seated inside, but the man felt he could sense a few more stray souls permeating the musty air.
He stepped up to the counter, behind which stood the back of an old man, busy at work.
Mr. Flint, was the identity he decided on. Who else could it be?
The stranger waited patiently for Mr. Flint to finish whatever he was doing.
Within the passing of a few minutes, Mr. Flint turned around, a steaming bagel egg sandwich resting on the plate in his hand.
"Elise, you're all done," Mr. Flint wheezed in a low, strained voice. Elise came forward to receive her order, and the store's owner turned to face his next customer.
Their eyes met, and his newest guest greeted him.
"Hello, Mr. Flint. I'll have a coffee. Italian, and dark roast, please."
Mr. Flint's shiny forehead furrowed in a tall stack of creases, and his right eyelid twitched as he squinted at the person standing on the other side of the counter.
As if battling some unknown enemy, his face went through repeated cycles of softening and then hardening again
Finally, he squeezed out a few doubtful words.
"Cale? You've come back?"
"Yes, I have," Cale replied with a reassuring smile. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"Ahh," Mr. Flint agreed, nodding his head.
He chuckled. "Yes, it's been a long time." He laughed another raspy laugh and added, "I barely recognized your face, Cale."
"I can't look that different, can I?" Cale asked lightly.
"It's the hair," Mr. Flint explained. "And I see you've got some coming in here too," he added, motioning to his chin and showing off a smile of crooked teeth.
"Hmm. I guess you're right," Cale replied. "But I can see that you've changed too. You used to take pride in your quick service, but it's already been a full minute since I asked for my coffee."
"Hah hah," Mr. Flint laughed heartily. "Sorry, kid. I'll have it ready right away. Black roast, wasn't it?"
Mr. Flint soon returned with a heavy coffee mug in hand, which he set on the wooden countertop before dutifully announcing, "Cale, you're all done."
"Thank you, Mr. Flint," Cale replied gratefully. "I hope you have a good day."
"Heh. That's my line, kid."
Cale set some money on the counter and turned, coffee in hand as he looked for an open spot.
Setting his eyes on a low, two-person table, he took a step across the hardwood floor.
"Cale?"
He turned around so quickly that his steaming hot drink nearly fell onto the floor.
Her face was small, and her features were sharp. She wore a green hoodie and blue jeans, and her silky, red hair was tied back in a loose bun.
He knew those emerald green eyes all too well.
"Ivy."
There was a momentary silence as the two examined each other.
Cale inhaled and suggested, "Why don't you join me at that table over there?" He nodded in the direction of the open table. "I'm just sitting down now."
She continued to stare and said nothing as he turned his back, retreating to the corner of the small cafe.
He pulled out one of the wooden chairs, sat down, and took a sip of his coffee.
Still, she stared.
"It's odd, seeing him after all this time, eh?" Mr. Flint remarked in response to Ivy's stunned reaction.
The old man's voice snapped her out of her daze, and she hastily stepped up to the counter.
"Uhh, yeah," she said softly. "Can I just get a cappuccino?"
"Of course," Mr. Flint replied, smiling another wide, crooked grin.
Ivy lifted her mug with shaking hands, and she stared at the bubbling foam intently as she turned around as slowly as she possibly could.
The walk across the cafe was only a few steps, and it was over all too quickly.
She found herself in her seat, blowing on her drink, and sitting across from an old acquaintance.
"How are the girls doing?" was Cale's first question.
Ivy replied without lifting her eyes. "Good."
"...Could I have some details?" he inquired after a slight pause.
No response. Ivy was frozen in her chair, no longer even pretending to blow on her coffee.
Cale scratched his head and picked up his mug in defeat.
Ivy slowly lifted hers as well.
As soon as he finished his sip, he nodded at her and said, "Good, drink up."
He leapt out of his chair with a yell as a cupful of burning liquid flew into his face.
Tripping on the leg of his chair, he fell hard against the pine wood floor, groaning in pain and covering his head in his hands.
Ivy stood above him with her arms hanging at her sides.
Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, and the newfound abundance of air in her lungs became a great relief to her stress.
However, what calmed her even more than oxygen was the excellent view of the fetal body beneath her, finally feeling a fraction of the pain that he deserved.
She hurled her mug down at his face, which was still wrapped into both of his hands as he curled up like a baby.
The mug smashed against the back of his skull, and hundreds of ceramic shards shattered across the floor.
"I'll clean it up, Mr. Flint!" Ivy yelled at the man behind the counter, whose mouth was gaping wide open as he stared at the scene unfolding in front of him.
"I'll buy you a new mug, too!" she added.
Ivy directed her attention to the man on the ground.
"Get up," she ordered. "We have things to talk about, right?"
Cale cautiously uncurled himself, peeking through his hands at the monster that loomed over him.
The coast looked clear, so he scrambled to his feet and straightened himself out.
"Wooooow, your burns healed quickly, huh?" Ivy remarked sarcastically, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "I'm amazed. You're such a cool guy. I forgive you for deserting your infant children for EIGHT YEARS!"
She thrust a hand at Cale's collar, but he grabbed her wrist with one hand and placed his other on her shoulder, holding her at an arm's distance away.
"EIGHT FUCKING YEARS!!" she screamed.
The few guests that still remained in the cafe promptly stood up and walked out the door.
She swung at him with her free arm, but couldn't reach far beyond his elbow, so she just scratched at the hand on her shoulder while furiously trying to gnaw at it with her teeth.
"you… devil"
After another thirty seconds of desperate struggle, she finally gave in.
Her body went limp, and she bent at the waist, wheezing for air. Cale helped her to her seat, and, once he got her situated, sat back down at the other side of the table.
Her head remained tilted downward for another minute or two, but she finally took one last deep breath and raised her eyes to face him.
"So, where've you been?"
"Travelling," he replied.
She clenched her fists and smiled shakily. "Travelling," she said softly to herself.
"Tavelling. Travelling. Travelling. Travelling…" she continued to mutter.
"Tell me about the kids," Cale said in a strong, steady tone.
"The kIDs? Why WOuld you cARE abOUt the KIDs?" she asked in a crazed, squeaky voice.
"Because I love them."
Ivy looked at him normally for the first time that day and frowned.
"They're happy. They have some friends, and they like going to school. I think your dad's done a decent job with them, but I still come over to help pretty often."
Cale's eyes softened–they even sparkled a little.
"Thank you. It means everything."
She eyed him up warily before continuing.
"Go ahead. Tell me where you've been."
With a shake of his head, he said, "I'm not supposed to talk about it. Do you think we could go back to the house? I swear, I'll tell you everything there."
She smiled wryly. "Scared to face your kids when you know they won't recognize you? I'll admit it, I'd hate to be you right now."
"It doesn't matter," he dismissed. "What else would I do?"
"Good point," she replied, standing up from her chair. "I'll take you home."