Someone just walked in. A woman, no, a girl really, dressed in a burgundy sweater and skintight jeans with her glossy waves of black hair swept over a shoulder. She looked around, her bright black eyes taking in the warm lighting and red and white gingham tablecloths, the smell of warm bread and stew and the sight of a dozen other pastries carefully arranged beneath the glass counter. Then she saw me. She smiled prettily before her lips moved, Can I have a table for one please? I smiled and nodded at her, waving her towards a cozy nook that was in a corner closest to the window facing the street, almost a cubicle really, the gossamer curtains falling around us in a shimmering wave as I parted them and pulled the chair out for her. The smile never left her face. She said, Thank you. I wish I could've told her how pretty she was, but coming from me, perhaps she would think it weird. Not many people are used to the way I communicate. I sent, Sam over to take her orders immediately and maybe it was just me, but her smile faded a little when I walked away. No matter, she would not remember me. I walked away quickly and continued with my duties. She had ordered a mocha with a piece of tiramisu cake. I finished her order as soon as possible and turned to the other drinks almost knocking over a cup in my not-all-there state of mind. I had to put the image of her out of my head. She would be served well, so I had no need to keep thinking about her. Sam was a gentleman and the perfect specimen at that. At least, he could hear. Unlike me....I was deaf and mute.
CAPPUCCINO
She came again today. This time the wind whooshed in the shop as she walked in. I know the bell above the door would've rung but I could hear nothing. Still, the sight of her took my breath away. Her hair had been done in half updo that left tendrils of the ebony strands curling around her face. Her dress was a midnight blue and she had a silver cardigan on today. As usual, she asked for a table for one. The single tables were all filled and I got a little frantic at the thought of having to tell her that. I almost kissed the ground when an old man tottered out of the nook she had sat in yesterday. Good, I had avoided talking to her again. I just couldn't afford to make myself look defective in her eyes. I hurried away to finish up the orders Sam had left on the counter for me. Somehow, I think I felt her eyes on me the entire afternoon, but I didn't dare to look. Today she ordered a cappucino and a slice of blueberry cheesecake. I wonder if she noticed the piece of white chocolate in the shape of a cat face that I slipped onto the cake as decoration. I noticed she loved Mii, our cafe's mascot, a tiny cream and gold kitten and thought she'd like it. Maybe.
FRAPPUCCINO
Mii led the way today as I walked Mai to her usual table. Mai. That was her name. She was a professional dancer from the academy just across the street and her parents were a Japanese couple that had migrated when she was a baby. Somehow they fell in love with Paris and have stayed here ever since. Or so Sam told me. Today she wore a dark green silk blouse over a leather skirt. She still smiled at me as I handed her the menu with a slight bow and proceeded to return to my station at the pastry counter. But today something stopped me. A very solid something. It turned out to be her hand. Sam winked at me as he passed by, ignoring my urgent calls for help via hand signals under the table. The only other waiter available was Andrew and he kept himself busy at my station. No help from there either. I cringed inwardly at the thought of having Mai know about my handicap. No guy likes to look weird in front of a pretty girl. Not even me, who was so used to having kids throw stones and shoes at me for being the only deaf boy in the neighbourhood and being rejected repeatedly when I wanted to play with them. Even the girls shunned me. Imperfect. I could see the syllables forming on their lips even as I walked past them. I couldn't hear the whispers but I felt them like a knife. Mai tugged at my hand and gestured at the seat that had somehow been shoved into the small nook. Now we were both a little cramped together, with the table wedged between us. She let go of my hand and shook her head at me as I attempted to rise from my seat, almost dislodging Mii from the edge of the table. Stay, she said. I sat. Mai rummaged around in her bag and produced....a small notebook and a pencil. Noticing my puzzled look, she grabbed both items and bent over the notebook. My name is Mai. You never told me yours. The notebook slid over to me, her message neatly written on the top left corner. I hesitated a second before thinking to myself, to hell with embarrassment and wrote right under her neat lines. Lucian. Nice to meet you, Mai. She smiled as I passed back the notebook. Why won't you talk to me, Lucian? I fidgeted a little before writing, I'm deaf and mute. Even the words seemed to shrink among the others above it on the paper. So? she wrote back with a slightly challenging look in her eyes. So, I didn't think someone as amazing and pretty as you would want to communicate with me. I can't talk, not the way you do anyway I scribbled back furiously. Mirth sparkled in her black eyes as she carefully wrote down, Yes, I know that. But so am I. I was in an accident and my ear drums were damaged when I was twelve. I had already learn to speak and with a bit of therapy, I could still talk even if I couldn't hear. I swear the world stopped spinning and hell froze over that instant.
VANILLA CREAM
Mai waited by the door as I served another plate of apple pie to an old lady and her grandson. Her face was flushed from running across the street and from the winter air. She looked as stunning as ever in the same burgundy sweater I first saw her in when she walked in that spring afternoon. In her hands, she held a placard that said "Hello, love."
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