Grandma brought the two hot coffees to the small table in the corner of the cafe where her Grandson sat, staring at his book.

“Why don’t you read it?”

“I don’t wanna start it while we’re still having coffee.”

“That’s nice of you, to spend your time with me instead.”

He nodded as she handed him his coffee, his favorite: spiced Viennese, coffee with whipped cream and cinnamon on top of it all.

“Are you trying out for any sports this year?”

“I ran a little for track, but kept spraining my ankle, so, whatever.”

“I never played sports when I was young, and I didn’t even finish high school.”

“How did you get a job?”

“I just asked who needed help. Like my job here, I just walked in and said hello, and they hired me.”

“But you’ve come to this cafe for, like, years, so they know you. I don’t know anybody.”

“You’ll meet people, give it time.”

“I don’t like the people I have met so far.”

She, too, disliked a lot of the people she met, no matter where, what age, what was happening. People, to her, were the worst. “Some people are bad, but if you give them a chance, just one chance, even, then they might surprise you.”

“Anyone ever really surprise you?”

“Your grandfather.”

“How come he’s not around.”

“He would want to be, he’d want to know you, I’m sure of that.” She smiled, a feeling that was unfamiliar after many, many years. “You both knew how to make fools of yourselves.”

Her Grandson stared at her, and she leaned forward wipe the whip cream from his lip. He let out a laugh, and they sipped together — both allowing the whip cream to stay on their lips.

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