Page 14 of Never Too Late

I choose the latter.

Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders and walk to where she’s sitting. It doesn’t take me long since the café is small, but I do manage to give myself a pep talk in the short distance.

She stares up at me from her seat with furrowed brows, waiting for me to say something. And for a moment we just stare at each other.

Subtly rubbing my sweaty palms on the side of my pants, I clear my throat. “Hey, this is random, I know, but the guy that was at the counter told me to sit here and introduce myself since we’re both new to this town.”

“Hi…” she says hesitantly, “Yeah, sorry, that’s Cee, he owns the café. He’s like that, always wanting people to make friends. But you can’t help loving him for it, he has a heart of rhodium.”

Her mouth curves into a fond smile as she talks about him.

I take that as my cue to sit, pulling out the chair before asking her about something she mentioned.

“Rhodium?” I ask, puzzled.

Her smile stretches across her face like I’ve asked her the best question. “Rhodium is considered the rarest and most valuable precious metal in the world, that’s Cee to me, rare and precious.”

“That’s different. I like it.” I stare at her, marvelling at how she sees things.

“Thanks. So, what are your thoughts on Cee’s? Isn’t it the cutest café you’ve ever seen?” She brings her cup to her mouth and takes a sip of her drink, waiting for me to answer.

I can’t help but simper at her question.

“Yeah, I like it and the atmosphere is nice too,” I say, grinning. “So, when did you move here?”

She threads her fingers through each other and leans back in her chair.

“About two weeks ago. It’s only my second day working. Cee practically emotionally blackmailed me into taking a job.” She shakes her head, her lips twitching. “Said I’ll be breaking the heart of an old man that desperately needs my help, if I didn’t take the job. I couldn’t say no. He and I knew each other a few years ago. It’s nice he’s looking out for me.” She shrugs.

I laugh, picturing him playing up being an old man and using her love for him to his advantage.

“How did you find out about this town? Have you lived here before?”

Her smile falters for a second before she fixes her expression, it's quick but I notice it. Her shoulders have a slump to them and there's an edge to her voice when she speaks. “The person I lived here with before… is no longer around… it’s just me,” her voice shakes, “she introduced me to this town.”

I can’t do anything but stare, taking in what she’s just told me. She’s lost someone.

I know firsthand how it feels to lose someone you love.

“What brought you here?” I can tell she doesn’t want me to ask questions and I respect that.

“Same reason actually. I was introduced to this place by someone special. I was feeling lost, and I knew I could find myself again here. It’s almost magical, isn’t it?”

Idah removes the pen from her hair, places it and the notepad on her lap, and smiles. Something about what I said must have reassured her, because she slowly opens up to me. “I told you the person that introduced me to this town is no longer here and you might have made assumptions about what I meant. And you were probably right.” She releases a harsh breath. “She’s gone, never coming back. It’s just me now but I know she’d have wanted me to come back to this place eventually, so this is my way of keeping her alive. So yeah, you’re right, this place really is magical.”

Returning her attention back to the notepad, she begins to start writing again. So, I decide to give her privacy, focusing my attention outside the window and watching tourists and locals walk by.

Heavy footsteps catch my attention and I look to my left to see where they are coming from. Cee quickly comes into view, walking to the table with my coffee in hand. He has the same beaming smile as he looks between us, knowing his suggestion clearly worked.

“Here’s your coffee, son. Sorry about the wait, it’s on the house.” He places the cup on the table and doesn’t make a move to leave until a customer walks through the door.

“But yeah, we talk a lot. I mean, I write to her, in here…” Idah gestures to her notepad. “I think she’d be happy. I hope she's happy.”

For the next ten minutes, we talk and enjoy each other’s company before she has to get back to work. I think we both needed this, to be reminded why we’re here.

Idah has a bubbly personality; beneath the smile she’s fighting to keep on her face, I can tell there’s a world of pain inside her. I could recognise the feeling anywhere. But I don’t push her. There’s no reason for me to.

Maybe someday we’ll be close enough for her to tell me her story.

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