to dry the cup to perfection for you, despite the little spill.” I smiled trying to be slightly sarcastic, but she didn’t. She just stood there blankly.
“Here you go.” I handed her a couple of napkins. “Are these enough? I can get you more if you need them.”
She forced a smile sniffing a little. “These will do.” Her voice was a little scratchy. She was upset.
Instead of wiping her cup like I thought she would, she turned away from me, wiping at her running eyeliner. She was crying.
“Are you OK?” I asked stepping around the counter. “Is there anything I can get you?”
She shook her head.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, “I will be fine.”
I placed my hand on her shoulder as she lifted her head. “Are you sure?”
She hesitated.
“I told you I’m fine.” She turned away again.
I dropped my head in disappointment. I suppose she didn’t want me bothering her so I decided to return to my duties.
“It’s just, he doesn’t understand me.” I stopped and turned back to look at her.
“He doesn’t know me for who I really am,” she wiped her nose with one of the napkins I had given her. “I don’t think he honestly wants to know me, not the way I want him to.”
I stood as still as stone. I didn’t know what to say. I watched her walk away, disappearing outside. I should have said something; I should have at least tried to comfort her. But what if I had said something wrong? Maybe it was for the best. I didn’t know.
Suddenly I heard an ear-piercing screech and a crash, followed by shattering glass. My feet were chained to the floor. I couldn’t move even though my mind told me to, it screamed for me to react.
Somehow I just knew what had happened and I feared what I would find when I went searching just beyond those two front doors of the café.
The moment that I stepped outside on the warm, sun-kissed pavement my actions triggered a chain of events that would alter my future and change my life. I wasn’t quite ready for what that day had in store for me and I don’t believe t he young woman I met was either. That day changed us both (within our hearts) forever; it’s a day we haven’t since forgotten.
Chapter 1: “The Unpredictable Road of Love
I sit holding an old worn photograph of a man I used to know. I believe I’ve pulled it from my bill folder too many times today, maybe more than I should have, but I can’t help it. He meant a lot to me.
He was a good man, my father was; the salt and pepper-haired farmer in the still image, the frozen memory I’m holding in my right hand.
I remember a lot about him, how he never let anything defeat him, how the strength of his broad shoulders, muscular arms and rough hands, matched the might of his love for people within his compassionate heart. I got my willingness to help those I knew and other’s I didn’t from my dad. He always pitched in where he could and I believe because of him I do the same everyday.
He taught me so many things, like the meaning of hard work and the importance of forgiveness. I had a hard time with the later. I learned that forgiveness is more than just a word; it’s an action that many struggle inside to take. I was and still am one of those people who struggle; I couldn’t forgive, I feel that I can’t, not right now. How can I, after what has happened? I’ve been having a lot of trouble lately letting go…
I’ve always believed, (no matter how naive it seems at 22 years of age) that my father could have fought off anything if he tried, a bite from a rattler, a wolf, like he did when I was 13 in the woods a little after dusk, maybe even a bear if he was determined enough. He wasn’t accustomed to failure or losing. He won every battle he fought which throughout my childhood made him my own personal hero.
I believed that my father was untouchable and that there was nothing that could
“Here you go.” I handed her a couple of napkins. “Are these enough? I can get you more if you need them.”
She forced a smile sniffing a little. “These will do.” Her voice was a little scratchy. She was upset.
Instead of wiping her cup like I thought she would, she turned away from me, wiping at her running eyeliner. She was crying.
“Are you OK?” I asked stepping around the counter. “Is there anything I can get you?”
She shook her head.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, “I will be fine.”
I placed my hand on her shoulder as she lifted her head. “Are you sure?”
She hesitated.
“I told you I’m fine.” She turned away again.
I dropped my head in disappointment. I suppose she didn’t want me bothering her so I decided to return to my duties.
“It’s just, he doesn’t understand me.” I stopped and turned back to look at her.
“He doesn’t know me for who I really am,” she wiped her nose with one of the napkins I had given her. “I don’t think he honestly wants to know me, not the way I want him to.”
I stood as still as stone. I didn’t know what to say. I watched her walk away, disappearing outside. I should have said something; I should have at least tried to comfort her. But what if I had said something wrong? Maybe it was for the best. I didn’t know.
Suddenly I heard an ear-piercing screech and a crash, followed by shattering glass. My feet were chained to the floor. I couldn’t move even though my mind told me to, it screamed for me to react.
Somehow I just knew what had happened and I feared what I would find when I went searching just beyond those two front doors of the café.
The moment that I stepped outside on the warm, sun-kissed pavement my actions triggered a chain of events that would alter my future and change my life. I wasn’t quite ready for what that day had in store for me and I don’t believe t he young woman I met was either. That day changed us both (within our hearts) forever; it’s a day we haven’t since forgotten.
Chapter 1: “The Unpredictable Road of Love
I sit holding an old worn photograph of a man I used to know. I believe I’ve pulled it from my bill folder too many times today, maybe more than I should have, but I can’t help it. He meant a lot to me.
He was a good man, my father was; the salt and pepper-haired farmer in the still image, the frozen memory I’m holding in my right hand.
I remember a lot about him, how he never let anything defeat him, how the strength of his broad shoulders, muscular arms and rough hands, matched the might of his love for people within his compassionate heart. I got my willingness to help those I knew and other’s I didn’t from my dad. He always pitched in where he could and I believe because of him I do the same everyday.
He taught me so many things, like the meaning of hard work and the importance of forgiveness. I had a hard time with the later. I learned that forgiveness is more than just a word; it’s an action that many struggle inside to take. I was and still am one of those people who struggle; I couldn’t forgive, I feel that I can’t, not right now. How can I, after what has happened? I’ve been having a lot of trouble lately letting go…
I’ve always believed, (no matter how naive it seems at 22 years of age) that my father could have fought off anything if he tried, a bite from a rattler, a wolf, like he did when I was 13 in the woods a little after dusk, maybe even a bear if he was determined enough. He wasn’t accustomed to failure or losing. He won every battle he fought which throughout my childhood made him my own personal hero.
I believed that my father was untouchable and that there was nothing that could
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