“Your sister Iris warned me that you were a control freak.” I tie the ribbon and doily around the rose.
“I’m not a control freak. I just have high standards.” Her expression stiffens, just for a moment.
Looking to placate her, I hold up the finished centerpiece. “How’s that?”
She smiles softly. “It’ll do.”
Her attempt at nonchalance makes me chuckle.
We finish decorating the place pretty quickly. It’s a tiny shop, so by the time we’re done, Java Monkey is decorated with what I would call a decidedly maximalist style.
Not that I really object to Calla’s taste. From what I’ve seen so far, I like it. After all, she had the good taste to say she loves me.
The barista arrives with two steaming mugs of cocoa. I take a seat, wrapping my hands around the mug. Calla finishes up tying a bowjust so, then does the same.
“We used to spend hours here,” I say, gesturing around the café to take in the mismatched furniture, the eclectic art,the stacks of well-loved board games. All of it feels like home. “Ryan and me, and the rest of the crew. This place is like a second home.”
Calla looks toward the camera that’s perched on a tripod near the counter. She waves, addressing the lens. “It’s true. Java Monkey has been a fixture in the community for years. I remember coming here the week it opened. I was, what, twelve? It’s changed a lot, but it still has the same spirit.”
“It’s a community center as much as it is a place of business.”
She scrunches her face. “Well, not as much as the actual community center two blocks away. But yeah, I have tons of great stories that feature Java Monkey. It’s local institution.”
I lift my mug to the camera in salute. “Please come here and spend all your money. Make sure that this place is still here when our kids are growing up.”
Calla inhales hot chocolate and has a terrible, loud coughing fit. I stop the camera and hand her a pile of napkins. The barista grabs her a glass of water.
After the fit subsides, Calla looks at me with wide eyes. “Our kids?” She wipes her eyes with a napkin. “That’s a big step. We just admitted that we have feelings for each other. Maybe we should let that sink in for a while before we start picking out baby names.”
“Are you saying that you don’t want a family?”
“…no. I want a huge family, just like mine. But I’m not in any hurry. My mom had Iris when she was 45. I’ve got time.”
“So… you want to have this conversation, but not right now?”
“Not yet.” She waves her hand at the customers in the shop. “Besides, this is not the place for serious talks.”
I shrug. “Suit yourself. Can I tell you one thing, though?”
Calla hesitates, then nods. “Anything.”
“Good.” My face splits into a grin. “We would have adorable kids. Can you imagine? Your dark hair, my bone structure. They’d all be gorgeous.”
“You are unbelievable.” She shakes her head. “Truly, completely insane.”
As she speaks, the front door opens and a bunch of parents come in with their young kids. The kids shriek noisily as they excitedly try to order. The parents do not make eye contact with the rest of the customers. I would guess that they’re too tired to put up a fight.
While they’re still ordering, I sneak over to sit beside Calla and slip my arm around her. “I guess kids are just another thing we will have to talk aboutprivately,” I whisper in her ear.
She hits my arm in a playful manner. “You are such a flirt.”
As soon as the parents head into the other room to sit with their kids, I pick up the camera and aim it at Calla. “So, Calla, how would you rate our decorating so far?”
She places a hand on her chin, striking a thoughtful pose. “I’d say we’re at a solid seven. Could use more hearts.”
I laugh, the sound breaking through the tension I didn’t realize was still there. It’s nice that there is always this warm banter when we’re done bickering.
“I thought we were aiming for a ten.”