Chapter 5 - Borrowed bliss?

I take a sip of my latte and I feel my body relax. I had quite a morning and I need this. I woke up to a phone call from my mother and that never fails to ruin my day. And that is not the energy I need at the top of my morning. So I had to come to my favorite coffee and get the good stuff. I have a good motivational book to get me out the funk and I feel like I can shake off the funk my mother put me in.

“Hi.” A make voice says behind me. I have earphones in my ears, a clear indication that I don’t want to be disturbed. I sit there ignoring them; hoping he’ll go away. I don’t like to be disturbed when I’m feeling like this. I sat in the back at the corner at this coffee shop because I want to be left alone. I sit here every time I come here because it’s out of everyone’s ways and I can blend into the crowd.

He taps me on the shoulder and I roll my eyes annoyed. Why won’t this dude leave me alone? I turn and look at him.

I am surprised at how tall the guy is, I wasn’t expecting to see his chest when I looked back. I look up and our eyes collide. He’s cute in a none traditional way, he has the kind of face you need to really look at to see his beauty; he’s just a little skinny for my liking. I like guys with muscle and weight to them.

“Do you mind if I share this table with you? I hate to bother you but it’s kind of full today and I would love to sit down and have my coffee.” I look around the coffee shop and nod. I don’t want to share a table but I can’t say no. it’s always good to be kind. And besides I might come in here one day and it’s full. I hope he lets me share a table with him when that day comes. “Thank you so much.” He say sitting on the chair next to me.

He places a backpack at his feet and starts to look around. He scans the room but his eyes don’t really settle on anything. A part of me wonders what he’s looking for.

I hope he’s satisfied that he got a place to sit and he leaves me in peace. I don’t want to talk to anyone; I just want to be left in peace.

I turn up the volume in my earphones and go back to reading my book.  

I see him take out a sketch book from his backpack and place it on the table. He takes out a couple of pencils and places them on top of the sketch pad. A waitress comes with his order placing it on the side of the book. They smile at each and the waitress bats her eyelashes at me. I smile at them flirting with each other, it’s so cute. He thanks her and then she’s gone.

He takes a sip of his coffee looking in the direction of the counter with a look of intrigue and concentration on his face. I look in the same direction wondering what he’s staring at.

He opens the sketch book on a clean page and starts to draw a few strokes. I watch he’s doing for a few seconds before I realize I’m staring. He probably doesn’t want me looking but he won’t say anything because he asked to sit at my table.

I look away giving him the space. I try to get back to reading but it’s not easy. I’m intrigued by what he’s doing. I want to see what he’s drawing and how it’s going to turn out. But I hold myself back; I know I wouldn’t appreciate it if someone was staring while I was working.

I force myself to concentrate on the sound of the music and forget about him. My mind drifts, concentrating on my book.

A few minutes later I see him stretch his arms above him, he yawns a little and then he smiles satisfied. Curiosity takes over and I look down at the table. My breath is taken away at the image I see. It’s of a little girl sitting with her mother at a table a few feet from the counter.

She’s holding a cute doll, I get choked up at the image because it reminds me of me when I was a kid. I loved playing with dolls; I took them everywhere I went. It drove my mother crazy but I didn’t care. I wanted to play with them everywhere I went.

Even though the drawing is not finished, it holds much emotion and power. The little girl in the picture has the same look of joy on her face. She looks like she loves her dolls. When I look up at him he’s staring at me.

“This is so beautiful.” I say to him feeling guilty that I was staring at his drawing. I take out my earphones and look at it a little more. I can’t seem to take my eyes off it.

“Thank you very much.” He says smiling at me. “Do you draw?” he asks looking at me with the same intensity he was looking at the little girl. His focus is a little intimidating; I’m not used to people looking at me like that. I’m used to disappearing in the background.

“No, I do not.” I say smiling at him too. Why would he think I draw? “I can barely draw a stick man.” I say truthfully. I don’t even own a pencil.

“No? I could have sworn you’re an artist.” He says making laugh. I’ve been told I look like I do a lot of things but never art. I wonder why he thinks I’m one.

“You probably say that to everyone.” I say and he shakes his head no.

“I only say it to people that give me a certain vibe.” He says smiling, his eyes light up when he smiles. He’s looking at me like he knows a secret I don’t. It’s both intriguing and terrifying.

“Oh really? And what vibe is that?” I ask feeling flattered but I know he’s bullshiting me. This probably the way he picks up girls. I was mesmerized by his art and now he thinks he has an in. or he might be genuine and I’m my usual suspicious self.

“You give off the leave me the fuck alone to my own thoughts and troubles vibe. That’s why I came to ask to sit with you. I knew you’d give me the space to do what I need to do.” He says hitting the nail on the head. I want, no I demand my space. I spent most of my life sacrificing my time for others; I won’t let people take that from me.

“Everyone has that vibe.” I say deciding to be contrary. I don’t lie that he figured me out with just one look. I like to think that I’m a little more complicated than that.

“No. people pretend to be that way. The vibe you have can never be manufactured. I recognize it in others because I’m the same way.” He says with certainty.

“Well I hate to disappoint you but I’m not an artist.”  I say and he looks at me thoughtful.

“I’m never wrong. I know you create art in some way. It might not be my kind of art but there is some form of artist in you.” He says looking at me closer. I feel my cheeks warm because I don’t know how react to how he’s looking at me. I don’t know what to do with the amount of attention he’s giving me. I’ve never had this before. “What fills up your day, what do you do to pass the time?” He asks smiling like he’s figuring me out.

“I do hair, I’m a hairdresser.” I say and looks at me disappointed. My heart skips a little. Is he disappointed that I do hair? Why am I disappointed that a total stranger is disappointed in me?

“See, I told you. You’re an artist; your art form is making people look beautiful.” He says his face brightening up. “Why are you making me jump through hoops trying to figure this out when I’m clearly right?” He asks looking at me like I just told him he won the lotto.

“Because I think you’re bullshitting me.” I say and he frowns at me.

“Why would I do that? You and I don’t even know each other. Why would I put so much energy in someone I don’t know?” He asks making me look at him closely. Boys play games with girls all the time and I don’t trust anyone. I don’t know him, giving me even more reason to be weary of him.

“I don’t know… But the way you approached this give s me bullshitting energy.” I say and he looks at me sideways. “Hey, I could be wrong but I’m never wrong.” I say using the same words he used on me.

“Hey look it’s not that deep. I’m grateful you were kind enough to let me share a table with you.” He says smiling at me.

“And I’m grateful I got to see that. It really is beautiful. I’m sure you know this but, you’re very good.” I say looking at the drawing one more time. It brings up so much emotion for me. I can’t really explain it but every time I look at it I get the feeling that I know the little girl in the picture. I feel like I need to talk to her and tell her to keep the dream she has in her alive.

I want to tell her to not let the things around her distract her. It bring up bring up joy and pain for me.

“I’m glad you like my work. It means a lot when someone that has never seen my stuff have an appreciation for it. ” He say smiling sweetly.

“I’m Adira by the way.” I say offering him my hand so we can shake.

“Simon.” He says shaking my hand.

Nice to meet you.“ I say and he smiles.

“Well Adira, thank you for sharing. I have to get going.” He says looking at his watch; he puts away his sketch book and pencils getting up. “It was really nice talking to you. See you around?” he says sating up looking at me, I nod and he smiles leaving.

I watch him walk to the counter to pay his bill. I find myself longing to talk to him a little more. I feel like it was sudden the way he got up to leave. But then again I don’t know him and I don’t know what his life is like. But he left me wanting more.

I watch him leave and know I should get going too. I have to get to my next client, my day has just begun and it won’t end until the late night. I’ve had to take on more clients because once again my mother is forcing me to take on the mess she and Chloe created.

She’s freaking out about the pregnancy so she wants me to be stressed out too.

I cringe at the memory of the conversation I had with my mother this morning.