It was their regular haunt, they had always caught up there after work.
It was so handy, less than five minutes for both of them coming from their offices, just a couple of blocks apart. It was a nice, family-owned café that had been there for years. It would be a fifteen minute break before catching their bus at the stand across the street. It was always the quiet end of the day and they had always managed to find their regular table. Outsiders, seeing her there now, would probably find her behaviour strange, but the ritual had history. They had first met there. It had been a lunchtime during the midday rush. They met in the queue, talked about coffee and ended up sitting together.
That’s how it started. They were both in their first jobs, both keen to talk about their work and what they wanted to do with their lives. She remembered the day he’d suggested that they maintain that time and place as a sort of custom, and thought back to how readily she had agreed. There was a mutual understanding that the original encounter was such an important turning point in their lives, it should be respected, commemorated.
Nobody would have thought twice about it when he’d taken a day off with the flu, but it wasn’t the flu. Meningococcal disease took him in less than twenty four hours!
Now, it’s only the people behind the counter that know why she occasionally dabs at her eyes with a napkin.
