[Published in the Solace Chronicles]
It's been a few weeks now, since I took on the part-time job at the cafe. I wanted to do something different, challenge myself. It's not as if being mayor doesn't occupy my time, but everyone needs a change of pace, right? After we secured the necessary funds to complete the cafe's construction, thanks to the combined help of everyone's donations and my secretary's careful planning, I started to come in for a cup every morning. Brewster's coffee prowess is legendary; I was immediately impressed. My days began to flow with even more relaxation every time I'd come in for a mocha, or the house blend. As the weather started to cool and the leaves began to change color, I noticed more and more visitors coming in from other towns to sample his work. He even began to give out to-go cups for people. I would pick one up on the way to town hall; gave me just the boost I needed. I like my coffee tasting like coffee, but not too bitter. Somewhere..., in the middle. The regular amount of cream and two spoonfuls of sugar. Anyways, now I'm just rambling.
Each day I'd come in, Brewster seemed to warm up to me a little bit more. Such a shy, but well-dressed pigeon. His, 'hello,' would turn into, 'how are you?' and this, 'thanks,' would turn into, 'thanks for coming in so often.' When he asked me that fateful morning if I'd like to work at the cafe for a while, I couldn't refuse. The atmosphere, the aroma...- but the truth was, I didn't know anything about making coffee. I didn't know a siphon from a mill, or the difference between Blue Mountain beans and Kilimanjaro ones. Not to mention, everyone just came in and expected you to know what they liked. It was a science, figuring it out. What beans to brew, how much milk, how much sugar. And remembering- oh, how it was difficult when they'd ask for, 'the usual.'
As each day passed, it got a little bit easier. I started to remember- and I was getting really good at all the measurements. Brewster was impressed: he would give me some of his top-of-the-line coffee beans to take home for myself and practice with. And then, the gifts came. First, he gave me an old coffee pot of his. It was the first time I had ever owned my own coffee maker, and I was thrilled to have one. It made my house smell like coffee all the time: perfect for the fall season. Next came the siphon, and mill. An espresso machine. I'd get sugar to take home, milk. I loved spending time there. We'd get all kinds of customers: villagers, shop-owners. Even the mailman, Pete, was there on occasion. The out-of-towners were my favorites. I'd hear all sorts of stories about other towns, far away places. It made a wanderlust grow in me- and yet, I loved my own little town. The town that I worked so hard to build with everyone- all of my friends.
The cafe was a place made to bring us together. Brewster warmed up to everyone, and the coffee warmed all of us. Plus, the uniform was especially cute. But I knew I couldn't delve in too deeply. I knew that my responsibilities as mayor were going to take precedence. And so, although I still went in for my morning cup, I started to work there less, and less. Sometimes I even skipped days going in, if there were a lot of other things going on. Public work orders to go through, festivals to plan. Isabelle was such a great help, but I couldn't put all of that on her. One day, I stopped by the cafe, and there was a sign that said, 'closed,' on the door. I asked around; no one seemed to know where Brewster was. And so I went up to Main Street, figuring I'd head up to the museum and ask Blathers, the curator. He was the one who initially proposed the building of the cafe, for he was Brewster's close friend.
When I inquired to the owl, I found out that Brewster had fallen ill. I knew immediately, what I had to do. I went door to door, knocking on autumn wreathes and calling on whoever I could. We picked fruit from the trees: apples, pears, cherries. We went to the Nookling's market and picked up some medicine. I invited the townsfolk to my house: the fireplace was burning, and the living room still smelled like coffee. I took everything Brewster had given me: the coffee beans, the maker, the siphon, all of the milk, and sugar. And together, we made cup after cup of coffee.
Each of us carrying a cup of coffee in hand, we had Blathers show us to Brewster's house. There were a few small spills, but for the most parts, the mugs made it in-tact. When the pigeon opened the door, he was shocked. So surprised to see us there, bringing the thing he loved so very much- not the coffee, but his friends. We gave him the fruit, and the medicine, and a few cups of java. We talked, and we sit, and we laughed. If Brewster couldn't come in to the cafe today, we were going to bring it to him.
The bird who was once so very shy, could now only smile. He brought something to this town that we will always cherish: happy memories of all of us together.
Mayor Lyssa
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