Page 61 of Love and Other Chances

I’ll come meet you there when I get off work

My parallel parking skills come in handy once again when I’m able to pull into a small spot directly in front of the café. Walking inside, the vibrant mural painted on the wall above the counter immediately makes me happy I chose to come here. The display case of unique pastries further affirms my decision.

I order a latte flight and tell the barista to surprise me with a pastry of her choice. Choosing a table near the large windows, I get out my journal and pen. The barista brings over the latte flight, pointing out three different flavors. My mouth is watering already, but then I eye the giant pastry on the plate. “Okay, tell me what you picked.”

“It’s one of ouralfajors, themaicenaflavor. Think a shortbread cookie sandwich filled with creamydulce de leche. It’s one of my favorites,” she tells me. Now, I’m full-on salivating.

“Thank you!” I call as she walks away. Pulling out my phone, I quickly snap photos of the pastry and the lattes. I prop the journal open on the table, then take another picture of the full setup to send to Lana.

Look! I’m taking a page out of your book and journaling my thoughts over coffee

LANA

On my way

Seriously though, that looks amazing. Where are you??

A coffee shop in downtown KC. Hanging here till Amaya is off work

LANA

JEALOUS

Ugh, wish I really was on my way there. Have a great time!

I take a sip of each latte, relishing the different flavors. A single bite of the pastry has me moaning with delight and calling out a loud “Thank you!” to the barista.

Every crumb of thealfajoris gone and the latte glasses are empty by the time Amaya comes in two hours later. I jump up to give her a hug, fueled entirely by my excitement to see her and not at all by the caffeine and sugar.

Amaya orders a coffee to go, and then we decide to walk to a nearby Thai restaurant for dinner. We share Pad Thai and yellow curry as I catch her up on staff retreat.

“You’re going to have to talk to Kent and Rachel eventually, Teeg,” Amaya says in response to my story about the narrow miss with Rachel.

“But will I? Casually disappearing seems like a valid option if I do decide not to return to staff,” I joke.

“I know you think the conversation could be slightly uncomfortable—”

“Or straight up excruciating,” I cut in.

“Mildlyuncomfortable,” Amaya emphasizes with an eye roll. “Butyou can’t avoid it forever. You could give them a heads-up that you’re considering other options before you officially decide anything and stop it from looming over your head.”

“I will take that option under advisement,” I comment before taking a huge bite of curry and rice. “How’s that big pitch coming?” I ask around the food in my mouth.

Amaya graciously takes the reins of the conversation to talk business. It’s not a language I’m fluent in, but hearing Amaya talk about her job makes me feel passionate about it nonetheless.

“Wow—it sounds like you’ve got a lot going on,” I reflect after she outlines the multiple clients she’s juggling. There’s a weariness to her eyes and her voice as she drops the mask in response to my observation.

“It is a lot—which I’m fine with. I like having a lot on my plate, but I do miss having you and Lana around every day to have a safe place to breathe for a minute,” Amaya says before giving a slight shrug. “Even though I have friends I enjoy hanging out with, and I get along fine with my roommate, I still feel like I need to be ‘on’ all the time.”

I nod in understanding. Lana and I are maybe the only two people who ever see behind the image of Amaya that most people know. The confident, charismatic, high-achieving leader with drive and ambition for days. It’s who we saw for the first several months of our friendship, until Amaya slowly trusted us enough to voice the moments of self-doubt and insecurity.

“How are you feeling about the corporate ladder grind?” I ask quietly, leaning forward over the table.

“Feeling about it? I don’t know that I have feelings about it. At least, not that I’ve actively thought about,” Amaya replies. “Maybe I’ll think about it. I love what I’m doing—love what I’m achieving. I’m just feeling a little nostalgic about our late-night slushie runs or movie nights that turned into talking for hours.”

I nod in understanding again. “Same, girl, same.”

“But life moves forward. We keep moving with it,” Amaya says with another shrug.

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