Dina’s frustration with her absentee parents is pretty deeply rooted and has been a constant struggle since we were kids and she had a full-time nanny that she used to call mom. So I typically laugh with her a little bit, but don’t want to overdo it.
“Anyway,” I say, “he flat out told me to stay away from his sister.”
“Well, hedidsee your apartment right? I wouldn’t want my sister hanging out with you either.”
I pout, though it’s only slightly serious. “Hey. Rude. And you don’t have a sister.”
She shrugs. “Your house looks like a Picasso. What are people supposed to think?”
My pout intensifies, but before I can say anything else, I hear my name.
“Lonnie wants to see you,” Jet says, coming out of the back. “I’ll cover the counter.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” I say with a smile.
“And for doing your actual job,” Dina tacks on, her eyes narrowing at Jet.
They glare at each other.
“Yes, Jet. Thanks for doing a great job,” I say. Then I look at my best friend. “Are you still going on that work trip?”
She nods and rolls her eyes. “Unfortunately, yes. I leave tonight. But I’ll be back in a week.”
“Ugh… so far away! Don’t leave me!”
She giggles and gives me a wave. “I’ll text you about all the cool things I’m doing!” she shouts back as she heads towards the door.
“Rude!” I yell.
She sticks her tongue out at Jet – so mature, good lord – and pushes the door open.
“I don’t know why you’re friends with her,” Jet says once she’s finally gone. “She’s mean all the time.”
I just smile at him. “She’s only mean toyou,and that’s because you call her Debbie every time you see her.”
He gives me an evil grin.
“Hey!” I say, pointing at his face as dramatically as possible. “Look at you! I knew you could use those facial muscles!”
He goes back to sullen immediately.
«««« »»»»
I knock on Lonnie’s office door.
“Lonnnieeeeeee,” I call. “Jet said you’re looking for me?”
The door opens, and there he stands. Lonnie Oden. The seventy-nine-year-old infuriatingly crass and unbelievably loveable owner of The Steam Room.
He opened this place back in the seventies with his late wife, Joanna. It used to be just a tiny coffee shop that only served cups to the local workers. They had a brief interest in turning it into a restaurant in the nineties, and purchased the deli that went up for sale next door, but it didn’t work out. They did, however, suddenly have an extra space to use with a full kitchen and dining space, so Joanna used it to bake cookies and brownies and muffins for customers. Lonnie likes to say that this place was one of the earlier coffee shops that encouraged people to just come in and hang out.You know, before all those Starbucks’ overtook the coffee industry.
Eventually, Joanna retired and then passed away. I never got to meet her – this was all before I worked here – but she had to have been amazing to put up with Lonnie. At least, that’s what he says.
“Does it look like I’m looking for you? I’m in my office with the door closed.”
I smile.
He’s always so grouchy with me. But I know he loves me. I’m his favorite employee, something he said to me just once, back when I’d only been here a few months.