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I got a taste of that lovely little life right after high school... for only the briefest of moments. And then reality came banging on my door. I nearly got everything I wanted, but then all my dreams came crashing down with the worst news of my life – a revelation I am still struggling to come to terms with.
And now here I am: post that horrible revelation - working at this little coffee shop in the middle of my nowhere hometown with no goals or hopes of achieving anything.
I stand behind the counter at my work, next to the shiny coffee machine, waiting for the next customer with a fake enthusiastic smile plastered on my face and deadness behind my eyes.
Yep, I am a barista so very far away from achieving her one dream in life.
We make all kinds of coffee here, and I actually like it despite my fake smile. We’re famous for our good caffeine. In fact, people come from all over the state to try out our beans and admire our latte art. With all the drinks I have to make on a daily basis, I’m becoming quite good at it. Coffee-making is a skill I’ve grown to find rewarding, despite my current crappy life.
I look around the coffee shop. It’s truly small in here. Warm and homey. I’ve always loved the vibes in this place, even before I worked here. I might not like being a barista, but this little coffee shop is the best place to be one. We’re located on the main street of Crystal River, just opposite the main park in town. Our windows look over the park, giving the space a nice summery glow. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sugary sweetness of freshly baked goodies that are so damn tempting fill the air. Handmade shelves on the walls above the customers’ heads hold random items and knick-knacks that people love to gawk at.
I’ve only been working here for a few months. I practically applied at the moment when my little life fell apart. I needed to do something after that revelation hit me otherwise I knew I would’ve gotten overwhelmed with grief for the marriage that broke down and the deep pain that I held inside my heart.
That pain hasn’t fully left yet...
I spot the baby in the pram and her mother before they even walk in through the door. It’s quiet today. I watch them longingly as the mother pushes the pram up to the counter. She mustn’t be any older than me, and the baby must be very new.
“Morning,” the mother greets me, smiling.
I smile back. This smile isn’t fake - the mother seems like a really nice person, which is sometimes a rarity when it comes to our customers.
“Morning.”
“I’ll have a cappuccino,” the mother says, nodding at the menu. “To have here, please. I’m happy to wait while you make it and save you from having to walk across the room.”
“Certainly. Thank you.”
I proceed to make the coffee as the mother pays. I’m frothing the milk when I look over the counter at the baby. The little girl is gorgeous. Big red cheeks. She’s making gurgling noises as she stares, unblinking, back at me. She’s happy. She’s laughing.
A cute mother and daughter date.
“She’s beautiful,” I say to the mother.
Her smile lights up even more. I can clearly see the love in her eyes as she admires her daughter.
And I instantly feel a pang of jealousy.
“She’s just three months old,” the mother says, glancing warmly between her baby and me. “She can be a real handful sometimes.”
“I can imagine,” I reply.
“You’ve got a baby of your own?” she asks me.
I shake my head.
“No. Not me.”
“Well, it certainly changes everything,” the mother remarks. “I used to be so different. I used to be a party girl, but then I had her and then I had to become Mom. I had to put a stop to a lot of things when she came along, but I tell you I wouldn’t change having her for the world. Most days I wake up and am full of joy and love. It’s indescribable.”
“That’s lovely,” I reply as I hand her the cappuccino. The mother takes it from me with another heartwarming smile before she pushes the pram to an empty table on the other side of the coffee shop.
And I immediately turn around and exit the coffee shop out the back. I head straight to the little private alleyway behind The Oak, where I immediately begin to cry.
What am I doing here at this job? Why does one mother and her baby trigger me like this?
Tears stream down my face as I place one hand against the brick wall to steady myself. Seeing that beautiful baby and her amazing mom has flicked a switch in me – bringing up dark feelings that I’ve tried to keep suppressed.
I’m not a mother. And I don’t think I’ll ever be one.
