Aside from her embarrassment, Annie found herself starting to enjoy the task. It was hypnotic, and even pleasant, creating order out of chaos. The monotonous routine became a gentle rhythm as she sorted. Her mind began to wander, randomly focusing on her past. Memories of her sisters flooded in, their love for her, their protection. Nothing was ever good enough for “our Annie.” She was too beautiful, too perfect.
Annie recalled the last man she was involved with, flushing at the memory.
Craig was a great guy with a truly generous heart. They’d met during one of her sisters’ many attempts to find her the perfect man, this one a “speed dating” routine. It was once again her sisters’ influence that had convinced her that Craig wasn’t “the one.” She had broken up with him two years ago on their advice-all because he was “just an elementary school teacher” and, as Chloe had put it, “financially limited.”
Had she really been so shallow? Her mind wandered back to that night, under the table with Eric. She couldn’t remember any point in her life when she’d felt so immediately connected to someone else. He had seen through her, into her, and she had let him. It was like nothing she had ever known before, and she longed for him. Even when she believed he might be disfigured, it hadn’t mattered to her. It was just her sisters and their damned opinions again that had sent him fleeing into the night.
No. It was my choice. The realization startled her, and she frowned as she separated the beans into piles then scooped them into the correct bags. It bothered her that she had entered the kitchen and turned on the light. It wasn’t even so much that she had done what Eric asked her not to, but more that she had done—once again—what her sisters had wanted. It was that thought that made her stomach churn and her cheeks hot. Why couldn’t she ever make a decision on her own, without the influence of her family?
I am. I’m searching for Eric. Annie closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. Everyone wanted her to forget about him and move on. She could hear Chloe’s voice in her head: “It was one night under the kitchen table, not the romance of the century!” Maybe even Eric himself wanted her to forget him-he certainly hadn’t contacted her since that night. But she wasn’t going to stop looking until she found him and told him.
What? What are you going to tell him? Annie sighed and peered into one of the bags. It wasn’t even half full! The other was only just as full with light-colored beans. Frowning, she stared at them scattered on the tile floor. The pile didn’t seem smaller to her at all. How is that possible? She rubbed her eyes, straightened her sore back and looked up for the first time in what felt like ages.
Joss was standing behind the counter again and she smiled over at him and waved. I must look ridiculous, sitting on the floor and sorting beans, she realized, but she found she didn’t care. He smiled back, his eyes warm, and gave her a nod.
“Tough task.” He leaned over the counter and surveyed the mass of strewn beans. “Need some help?”
Annie brightened. “I’d love some!” She expected him to come and get down on the floor with her, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached under the counter and pulled out a large scoop attached at the handle to a wooden box.
“Use this.” He put the scoop down onto the counter and turned back to putting coffee cups into stacks. She winced as she stood, her bottom tingling from sitting on the floor so long in the same position, and retrieved the strange looking contraption.
“Thanks.” Annie tried to catch his eye, but he just nodded. He hummed as he worked, but he didn’t look at her. The box was square, and the handle of the scoop was hollow, she saw, so the beans would fall into the wooden container.
But how will it help me to sort them?
“Cocoa beans are heavier than coffee beans.” Joss’s voice startled her as she sat back down in front of the impossible, never-ending pile of legumes. “Try it and see.”
She used her hand to push a large hill of beans onto the scoop and tipped it up. There was a gentle sound, almost like rain, as the beans funneled down through the hollow handle and into the wooden container in her hand. Glancing back at Joss, she questioned him with her eyes, and he smiled.
“Now, open the bottom, one side at a time.” He waved her toward the bags. Annie saw that there were two sliding doors at the base of the box, one on each side. Tilting the box flat so nothing would spill out, she carefully edged open one of the wooden doors and glimpsed a heap of dark-colored beans. There wasn’t a light-colored one to be found among them! Excited, she closed that door and slid open the other to find all of the light-colored beans sorted into the other side.
“Th—” The words of gratitude were on her lips, but Joss was nowhere to be found. Annie shook her head, smiling, and opened one side of the box over the correct bag, and then the other, spilling sorted beans in. She hummed to herself as she continued to scoop and pour, the pile diminishing more quickly this time.
She didn’t know how long it was before she looked up again, but the light had shifted across the floor, and most of the beans were back into the bags. She had placed the amazing sorting contraption back on the counter, and was picking up the last few strays by hand. It was the sound of Dita’s heels on the tile that brought her out of her trance.
Dita’s voice came from behind her and Annie glanced over her shoulder.
“Goodness! Look at you! What an effort!”
“I’m really sorry,” Annie told her, unfolding her legs and wincing.
Annie swept the rest of the beans into separate bags as quickly as she could. Dita made no effort to help, but rather sat in the chair and watched. Annie knew that without Joss’s help, she never would have gotten through the monumental task. She placed both bags back on the table, making sure they were stable, at least for the moment.
“Virgil,” Dita said, as if it meant something to Annie.
“Excuse me?”
“Virgil Yadira,” she expounded. “I can give you his address. Eric stays there, I believe, most of the time. At least, he was the last time I heard from him.” Relief flooded Annie’s chest. “Oh, thank you. I really need to speak to him.
Thank you so much.”
Dita unfolded her small bag and took out a white business-sized card and a pen. She wrote something on the back. “Here, my address is on the front.” Dita held the card fast when Annie reached for it, waiting until their eyes met. “Virgil keeps bees.”
Annie’s mouth opened but nothing came out. Finally, she just nodded. Dita released the card and Annie looked at the address. It was in the city.
“He keeps them on the roof of their apartment complex. If you wouldn’t mind, could you ask him for a jar of honey?”
“A jar of honey?” Annie repeated, wrinkling her nose.
Now both Dita’s mouth and her eyes were smiling at the same time. “Yes, just ask for Dita’s special honey. He’ll know.” Annie nodded, putting a hand to her forehead. “Sure.” Dita smiled again as she stood, and for the first time Annie looked at her fully. She was wearing a beautifully patterned sarong wrapped around her waist, a thin band of material over her breasts, covered with a sheer silvery top with flowing sleeves and edges. Her body moved like music as she swept the large bags of beans up in her arms and walked toward the back of the cafe.
Over her shoulder, Dita sang, “Thank you, dear. Good luck!”
Annie watched her go, fingering the thick card. She glanced at her watch and stared in disbelief. It was after noon! She had missed three clients already! She rushed to her car, digging her cell phone out as she fumbled with her keys. She was so distracted by the time that it didn’t occur to her until later that Dita’s airy sendoff was a strange thing for her to say.