Fancy Coffee

Several patrons of the coffee shop looked around and glared as a hunting horn rang out. Helen sighed as her grandmother Doris reached into her handbag for her phone yet again.

“Oops. Got to take this call. Just a moment, I promise.”

Helen wondered how she could teach her grandmother some phone etiquette. She had taken a day off to take Doris out for her birthday, not to sit on the side lines as her grandmother chatted on the phone. This was the third call since they sat down.

“Okay, fine, talk to you later. Bye,” Doris said cheerfully, putting the phone back in her bag. “Sorry about that. Where were we? This is a fancy place, isn’t it?”

She gazed around at the framed Art Deco posters, sun-catchers and potted plants. “I wonder how they keep their philodendrons looking so good.”

“Here’s a menu, Gran,” Helen said. “And, Gran, do you think you could put your phone on mute, or at least vibrate? People are trying to work.”

She indicated various customers who were hunched intently over laptops. Doris stared.

“Working? I thought they were just on the Facebook. I like Facebook, don’t you? Specially the cat videos. Okay, show me how to do that with the phone. I certainly don’t want to bother anyone. Don’t forget to put it back to ring loud afterwards. I can’t hear so good these days. Now let’s see this menu.”

Sighing impatiently, Helen hastily set the phone to mute as Doris adjusted her glasses and looked doubtfully at the menu.

“My goodness. Please translate this for me. What’s a fettuccine espresso?”

“You mean a cappuccino, or do you want espresso? Hot or cold? Almond milk, soy milk, skim milk?” Helen said, rolling her eyes. “A latte, perhaps?”

Doris shook her head.

“I didn’t know I was going to have to answer twenty questions. You choose. Nothing fancy but make sure it’s hot. Cold coffee indeed. And look at those prices!”

“Don’t worry about the price, Gran. It’s my treat for your birthday. What do you want to eat?”

“That’s very sweet of you, dear, but you’re going to have to take out a second mortgage at this rate. Whatever’s cheapest. Do they have a ham and cheese sandwich?”

Helen scanned the menu again.

“There’s a prosciutto and Gruyere panini with sun-dried tomato and balsamic drizzle, or salami, mozzarella and pesto on ciabatta or …”

“A pesky mosquito on a what?” said Doris, bewildered. “I give up. Anything edible.”

“Okay, I’ll make an executive decision,” said Helen, heading for the counter.

Doris furtively reached for her phone. Absorbed in scrolling, she jumped as Helen returned and sat down.

“Gran! Honestly. Don’t you know it’s bad manners to use your phone at the table?”

“Don’t scold, dear. You’re right. I suppose it’s because I don’t get much company that it’s become a habit.”

“Oh, Gran,” Helen said. “I know I should keep in touch better and come to see you more often. I mean to but then work gets crazy and before I know it, a month has gone by.”

Doris patted Helen’s hand.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. You’re only young once and I’m so proud of how you’re doing. Oh, here’s the food.”

A smiling young lady carefully placed the coffee and sandwiches on the table. Doris turned to Helen as soon as the server was out of earshot.

“Do you think it hurts to get all those piercings? The nose rings always remind me of those nose rings that bulls have. And…”

She leaned conspiratorially over the table. “They get those rings in unmentionable places too. I saw on the Facebook where they…”

“Hush, Gran, please,” Helen said, glancing around and blushing. “Try your coffee before it gets cold.”

Doris peered into her mug.

“Why, look there. It’s got a picture of a flower on it. I hate to mess it up. They must have to go to school to learn how to do that.”

“I believe they do,” said Helen. “They’re called baristas.”

“Well, I never,” said Doris. She eyed her sandwich suspiciously but nodded after a couple of bites. “This is good.”

They finished their meal in companionable silence. Doris wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin and leaned back.

“I must say that prosecuted ham is quite tasty.”

Helen covered her smile.

“What would you like for dessert? They have meringues, macaroons, tiramisu…”

Doris looked at her quizzically.

“You’re speaking that lingo again. I’ll go and powder my nose while you’re ordering.”

Helen beckoned to the server.

A large slice of gateau with a lit candle was on the table and several servers were standing around as Doris returned. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes moist, as they burst into a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. Other customers turned, smiled and applauded. Doris bowed and waved.

“Thank you, thank you. You’ve made an old timer feel very special.”

“You’re worth it, Gran,” Helen said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “Enjoy.”

Doris finished her cake and glanced at her watch.

“Helen, hon, I hate to rush you, but I must get home. A friend is coming over to visit.”

“Really, Gran? Is that why you’re getting multiple phone calls? Which reminds me. Give me your phone and I’ll turn the ring tone on.”

Doris chuckled as Helen handed the phone back to her.

“His name’s Jack. He’d be worrying if I didn’t answer when he called.”

Helen frowned.

“Jack? How did you meet him? Do I know him?”

Doris fluttered her eyelashes and looked down.

“I met him on one of those dating sites. You know. The one where you swipe left or right, or is it up or down? I never can remember. Anyway, he looked nice. Had most of his teeth and some of his hair. So, I took a chance. They say it’s never too late to find love and it’s been ten years since your grandfather passed.”

Helen looked at her, brows raised.

“You need to be careful. There are all kinds of creeps and con artists out there.”

“It’s okay. He has a gold mine in Chile. I’m thinking of investing some money in it. Not much at first, mind. Just a little bit till I see how it goes."

“Gran!”

Helen stood up so abruptly that her chair fell over. She hastily righted it and sat down as people stared.

“Don’t do it, Gran, please. I beg you.”

Doris giggled.

“I’m pulling your leg, dear. It’s old Jack Metcalfe from down the street. Your grandfather and I knew him and his wife for years. She died a couple of years ago, so he and I get together sometimes and watch a movie on TV or go for a walk now and then. We’re just good friends.”

Helen glared at her and then began to laugh.

“Don’t scare me like that.”

Doris gathered her coat and bag, grinning.

“Couldn’t resist. I might not know the difference between a tornado and a campesino or whatever you call all this fancy coffee, but I'm not as green as I'm cabbage looking. It would take a lot to pull the wool over this old girl’s eyes. Let’s go.”

Eyes twinkling, she took Helen’s arm, waving regally as they left.