Page 7 of Caffeinated in Amesbury
“Come on, bro, lighten up. It’s Christmas!” Cole nudged me playfully, my energy undiminished by the long hours I’d worked. “Blair’s just excited about beating you again.”
“Excited? I’m practically counting down the minutes,” Blair chimed in, resting her elbows on the counter and smiling up at me with a glint of challenge in her eyes.
“Ha! We’ll just have to schedule that match sooner rather than later,” I said, the corner of my mouth tilting upward. Underneath my calm exterior, the anticipation for the friendly rivalry sent him into his competitive ways.
“Speaking of schedules,” Cole interjected, “we’ve got the tree lighting tonight. Blair, you’re still helping us set up, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she affirmed, her enthusiasm infectious. “This place is going to shine brighter than Rudolph’s nose.”
“Let’s hope we can keep the lights untangled this year,” I muttered, though the idea of the evening’s festivities—and Felicity’s presence—coaxed a rare flutter of excitement in my chest.
“Only one way to find out,” Blair said, pushing off from the counter with a playful salute. “I’ll see you boys tonight. And Thomas? Start practicing your throw.”
As she exited, the bell chimed again, ringing out like laughter.
The lull between the morning rush and lunchtime buzz at Caffeinated Bliss was a sacred interval, one that I cherished with a reverence usually reserved for hallowed grounds. I nestled into my favorite armchair in the corner, a fortress of solitude amid the festive whirlwind. The book in my hands—an early edition of Hemingway’s “A Farewell to Arms” that smelled of must and memories—transported me far from the small town of Amesbury.
“Earth to Thomas,” Cole’s voice crackled through the calm like a rogue firecracker. “You’ve got that ‘I’m contemplating the complexities of the universe look again.”
I merely flicked an emerald-eyed glance over the top of my book. “One of us ought to have some depth,” I quipped dryly, the words soft but edged with a playful brotherly jab.
“Depth is overrated when you’ve got charm,” Cole retorted as he danced between tables, bestowing steaming cups of coffee like a caffeinated Santa Claus. His laughter mingled with the melodies of Christmas carols floating from the speakers, wrapping the shop in warmth.
“Careful, or your head won’t fit through the door,” I murmured under my breath, not looking up as I turned another page. A tiny smirk flirted with the corners of my mouth, betraying amusement even as my eyes drank in the lines of prose.
“Ah, but see, that’s where you’re wrong, dear brother.” Cole leaned across the counter to hand a cookie to a little girl whose grin outshone the fairy lights strung along the window. “The secret is keeping your feet on the ground while your spirit soars.”
“Is that what they call it these days?” My voice held a tinge of irony, though no one noticed as they were too caught up in Cole’s orbit.
“Exactly!” Cole shot back, winking at a regular, who chuckled in response. “You keep reading, Tom. I’ll handle the real world interactions.”
“Someone has to ensure our patrons leave with more than just caffeine jitters,” I replied, not missing a beat, my focus returning to the depths of my book, where I could almost hear the distant echo of artillery from the Italian front.
“Speaking of which,” Cole called over, nudging a plate of pastries toward a cluster of teenagers huddled around a game of Scrabble, “you sure you’re not hiding in those pages? Afraid of a little mistletoe action this year?”
“Ha!” The sound escaped me before I could swallow it, a rare chuckle that vanished into the fibers of the armchair. “I’ll take my chances with fictional heartache over the real deal.”
“Your loss, brother,” Cole sang, swiping a dishrag over the gleaming countertop.
I shook my head, a silent laugh quivering through me, content to let Cole spin his enchantments. The pages before me blurred momentarily as I pondered the truth in Cole’s theatrics. Love, adventure, joy—they were all present within the walls of Caffeinated Bliss, woven into every cup poured and every smile shared.
And yet, it was in these still moments, nestled in the worn leather of my chair with a well-loved book, that I felt the pulse of life most keenly. For literature was my compass, guiding me through the tempests of the heart with the quiet certainty of well-crafted words.
“Is the espresso machine acting up again, or is it just sulking from overuse?” I asked without lifting my eyes from the page. The tip of my finger held my place, a habit born from countless interruptions.
“Ah, she’s just temperamental,” Cole replied with a grin, patting the chrome beast affectionately. “Like someone else I know.” His hazel eyes glinted with unspoken tales of brotherly shenanigans.
I offered a mere arch of an eyebrow in response, finally marking the page and closing the book with a gentle thud. “I suppose we ought to consider giving her, and me, a holiday.”
“Good luck convincing yourself to take a break,” Cole chuckled, moving to fiddle with the coffee grinder. Beans tumbled into the hopper like pebbles in a stream, promising a fresh cascade of aromatic bliss.
“Speaking of breaks,” I started, tilting my head towards the door as the bell above jingled merrily, announcing an arrival. “Looks like you’re about to get one.”
Felicity breezed into Caffeinated Bliss, her presence a gust of vivacity that seemed to swirl around the room like an unseen zephyr. Her hair danced around her shoulders, and her cheeks were rosy with the winter chill.
“Hey, you two!” she called out, her voice a melody that could thaw any frost.
“Felicity!” Cole beamed, abandoning the grinder to greet her with a warm hug that lifted her slightly off her feet. “You’re just in time for taste-testing duty. New gingerbread latte concoction.”
