Coffee, made with love

There was a girl named Maria who I met at my university orientation week, and who was from a conservative Greek-Australian family. She'd attended a fancy private girl's school and was keen to spread her wings and experience all manner of the things university life provided. They don't call it O-week for nothing, and we spent most of the next month having a lot of fun together, in and out of the bedroom, before she decided she needed to knuckle down with her studies.

Then Casey, the industrial-design student with whom I shared my first proper and longest relationship so far, dating for almost two years during our first and second years of university. Things became serious between us, with talks about moving in together and future plans, and when she began discussing engagement rings I'd freaked out and broke it off. I was young and stupid, because Casey was great and I was a total arse to her, come to think about it. She certainly deserved way better than me.

After Casey I'd enjoyed a fling with Aina, a Japanese student studying in Brisbane. We both knew it was to be short lived since she was soon returning to her home country. Then there was Lea, the Swiss-American girl I'd met on a four-week ski-holiday with some uni-friends in Banff, Canada. We agreed to stay in touch, and even did for a while before succumbing to distance and moving on.

Then Linda, and Dani too, girls from university, and somewhere in amongst them was a girl who was the friend of a friend of a friend, who I met at a party, and whose name I couldn't remember.

But now I hadn't slept with anyone in six months, despite the fact I was lying on my bed next to Sally, my oldest friend in the whole world, our relationship platonic these days. Thoughts of Miranda infiltrated my conscious again, where I wondered if I'd squandered the opportunity to sleep with her, and contemplating if she even wanted to sleep with me.

Or did she want more? Because I knew I wanted more.

But would I even see her again, since it was a week since I'd last spoken to her?

"Hey, Todd," Sally's voice startled me again. "You told me last night how you and Miranda went to the Powerhouse together, right?"

I took a moment to answer. "Yeah. She offered me tickets."

"She invited you to go with her?"

"No, no, they were her and a friends tickets but her friend couldn't go so she offered both tickets to me. I said I'd take them if she joined me."

"Oh."

Sally still lay there with closed eyes, massaging her temples. When she gave no further response, my mind drifted again, this time to when Miranda offered me her tickets to the comedy night, several weeks previously. I'd literally just told her how I'd scored a lucrative job as a technical officer with my Honour's supervisor's molecular biology research group at university.

~0~

"Congratulations!" Miranda had said, beaming. "Oh, I'll miss you, of course, but I know you've worked so hard for this. Your dreams are coming true! I'm so happy for you."

There could be no doubt about Miranda's happiness for me, because she'd spoken with genuine excitement, clearly thrilled I was following my dream.

"Yeah, thanks, Miranda. I'm sorry I have to leave you in the lurch like this though."

"Don't be silly, it's no trouble at all. I'll ask Noah, Jack and Anna if they'd like some extra shifts."

I'd grinned. "Excellent. I'm not sorry then."

She'd laughed, then thought for a moment. "I was just thinking, how would you like two tickets to a comedy night at the Powerhouse? I was meant to go with my friend, Simone, but she can't go now, so I'm giving them away."

The Brisbane Powerhouse was a former power station, decommissioned in the 1970s and left to decay, leaving a hulking, decaying brick shell which was revamped as an arts and cultural venue in 2000.

I'd thought for a moment, wondering why Miranda wouldn't try to find someone else to go with her. "You don't want to go anymore?"

"I do, but I've no one to go with now. I asked my daughter, but she's busy, and my son's moved back to Cairns to work with his father. Unfortunately other friends are busy too."

"That's no good. But are you sure you want to give them away? You might find someone to go with."

"I'm sure. I wouldn't offer them to you if I wasn't. No point in them going to waste."

"Oh," I'd said, thinking it a shame Miranda was missing out on something she'd bought tickets for because she didn't have someone to go with. "I'll tell you what. How about I go with you in place of your friend?"

"No, don't be silly, you take the tickets and take someone special. My treat."

"Thanks, Miranda, but you shouldn't miss out on something you bought tickets for. I'll only take them if you go with me."

She eventually agreed, and we'd enjoyed ourselves immensely. The show featured several up-and-coming comedians who were mostly funny and original, and we'd laughed throughout, sometimes hysterically. Afterwards, we'd spent the rest of the evening chatting over glasses of wine, Miranda's eyes alive and sparkling and her smile rarely leaving her lips as we re-told jokes from the evening's comedy.

I'd never seen her wear make-up at work, because the hot kitchen would ruin any cosmetic foundation, but she'd worn it lightly this particular night, stylishly, and her smile was something else, with glossy red lipstick reflecting lights from the bar while we drank wine. I'd wondered what it would be like to kiss her, but I lost my nerve and didn't even try.

~0~

"Hang on," Sally said after a minute or two, interrupting my memory of my night out with Miranda. "You also said something about Miranda texting you?"

"Yeah, I must've."

"Like, non-work related texts? Like, come over, Toddy, and taste my food and drink my wine, Toddy. And taste my pussy juices, Toddy. Fuck me, Toddy, if you dare ask, you chicken shit."

"Piss off, Sal."

She laughed. "Whatever. It's sweet though. You and your ex-boss. Who'd've thought it."

"Nothing's happened."

"Yet..." she said, giving me a sly smile.

"Like you said, whatever."

"So you don't want to sleep with her?"

I sighed. "I do."

"So what's your problem? Go for it. She's attractive, even if she is in her forties."

I smiled at the ceiling. "I have a problem."

"Don't tell me. You have an STI? Eww, Todd's got the clap!"

I couldn't help laughing. "No, I learnt my lesson since the time you gave it to me, so I've only been having safe sex since."

"You're a funny man, Mr Todd," she said with a laugh and a light whack to my shoulder. Neither of us were ever infected with gonorrhoea, let alone any other sexually transmitted infection. "So what's this problem of yours?"

"Like I've told you, there's something developing between Miranda and me. I enjoy her company and I want to spend time with her."

"You want to date her?"

"You got it."

"Hmm, but because she's quite a bit older, you aren't too sure about dating her, am I right?"

"That's about it, Sal. Age shouldn't matter, but..."

"But sometimes it can," she said, cutting me off. Sarcastically, she added, "I suppose it's okay for forty and fifty-something year old men to date twenty year-old women, but not the other way around."

"No!" I protested. "I don't mean it that way. Well, yes, it should be okay for anyone to date anyone, no matter what, right?"

"You tell me, because you're the one conflicted over the age thingy."

"I think it should be okay for a younger man to date a woman twenty or more years older."

"You say that, but are you prepared for a relationship with Miranda if it's what she wants?"

"This is the question I ask myself about a hundred times a day."

"And?"

"My heart says yes."

"But your brain says..."

"My brain says yes, but I also worry things mightn't last."

"You do know things don't always last, Todd, no matter who you date."

"Nah, I thought we'd kept on dating the first person we hooked up with. Like, I'm still with Jessie Lancaster and you're still dating Stu Saunders."

"Jesus, we're both in strife then," she chuckled. "Especially you, because Jess is all about Muay Thai kick-boxing these days."

"I haven't heard from Jess in about two years."

"I ran into her a couple of months back and she's discovered kick-boxing and not afraid to tell you either, like she's a born again kick-boxer. She'd sort your shit out quick smart!"

"What a terrifying thought."

"Exactly. Anyway, stop evading the question."

"What's the question again?"

"Your heart and brain are telling you it's okay to date Miranda, but you still have reservations, right?"

I thought for a moment, considering all the scenarios I'd run through my head. "I like Miranda a lot. Like, I miss her because I haven't seen her since last week, and I want to see her again and spend time with her. I ache for her company. Is that strange?"

"Maybe. Some might say you're creepy, others might say you're romantic."

"Romance is in the eye of the beholder."

"Romance is in the heart of the beholder, Todd."

I sighed. "My one reservation, I suppose, is that I don't know how to date an older woman. Like, if I only wanted to fuck her I'd likely have asked her weeks ago when we were out together. But I want more with her, which kinda scares me. And I worry she mightn't want what I want, because of our age difference."

A quizzical frown formed on Sally's face. "You won't know if you don't ask, but maybe you aren't ready to date anyone yet? Just keep seeing girls causally."

"I haven't seen anyone for about six months. I can only think about Miranda."

"Perhaps you could hang out with her without pressure and see how it goes?"

"I've wondered about that approach." All the time, actually. "So you think it's a good idea?"

"Sure. I suppose."

"You'd be okay with me seeing someone old enough to be my Mum?"

She grinned. "As long as it's not your Mum, it has nothing to do with me who you date."

I grinned back. "So, if I don't end up dating Miranda, then I can date your Mum instead?"

"Sure," she said in jest. "Mum could do with a good fuck. Actually, any fuck would do her good."

"Thanks, I'll keep this in mind if things don't work with Miranda."

"What are mates are for?" she said rhetorically. Then more seriously, she said, "So as best mates, Todd, I'm telling you straight. Give things a shot with Miranda."

"Thanks, Sal." We lay there in silence for a bit, my mind cogitating over Sally's advice, again wondering if Miranda wanted the same thing from any relationship we may enter into.

After a minute or two Sally broke the silence, and I wondered if she was again reading my mind. "Are you prepared to date Miranda long term if it's what she wants?"

I thought for a moment. "I think so. Casey's the only girl I've dated for more than one year and I think I'm more up for such a commitment now than I was with her."

And she laughed. "I hardly even know what this commitment thingy you speak of is. We are so fucking hopeless."

"Yeah, so, what's the worst that can come of it? I scare Miranda away for good."

"Think of the best possible outcome, Todd! You ending up with a hot MILF who's also a fucking chef. Maybe you'll even learn to cook from her? If so it'll be long overdue. Who knows, maybe you'll even be the loves of each other's lives."

I laughed at her last sentence, thinking it highly unlikely. But she was right about one thing; I needed to think of the positives a relationship with Miranda could bring. For both me and her.

~0~

Late in the afternoon, when I felt sober and safe enough, I drove Sally home. Returning to my house early in the evening, I quickly gave up on plans to work on my university research after failing to concentrate on the Excel spreadsheet glaring at me from my computer monitor, demanding my total and undivided attention.

Instead I lay on my bed again, checking my phone, wishing Miranda would send me a new message, which I knew was as unlikely as me getting back to my spreadsheet. I couldn't help opening the previous messages Miranda sent after my last shift at the café, a week after we'd attended the comedy night together.

Her first text read: Thank you for your hard work today. I'm sorry to be losing you because you've been such a great help over the past three years. I wish you the best with your new job.

When I'd received her text, I thought it strange Miranda was texting me her gratitude, since she'd never done so before, and she'd already thanked me in person at the end of my final shift. But I can't lie, I was excited by this new development.

I'd texted her back: No worries, ur an awesome boss to work for. All the best to you too :-)

I remember thinking her texts would end there, but of course I'd hoped for more. And sure enough, she soon confessed she was drinking a bottle of wine on her own. I'm drinking wine and remembered how you and me were drinking wine about this time last week!

A new text message arrived before I could text her back. I'm not an alcoholic Todd but I know u must think I am!

Ur totally a drunk! I'd hoped she could sense my cheeky sarcasm.

She'd replied soon enough with, You can't talk mister. You came in to work hungover once.

Yeah, I remember. U made me a coffee.

Hehe, I did too! When Eliana arrived she complained that I never made her coffee. But Eliana makes better coffee than me so she can make her own!

She is a barista so you'd hope she makes better coffee.

If she was hung over then I would make a brew for her!

You could cook her something greasy too.

Eliana's never been drunk in her life, or so she tells me!

Again another text message from Miranda arrived before I could reply. When I made you coffee Reece joked we were the first date of the day because I was drinking my tea with you!

Yes! lol you did tell me my coffee was made with love!

Hehe I did! Naughty me!

My heart had skipped a beat back then, as it did now when I re-read her message. I recall typing out my next text, waiting a while, wondering if I was taking things too far, reading and re-reading it several times. My text asked Miranda if perhaps we should go on a coffee date, since we'd already been to a bar together, and now she was no longer my boss, so it would be okay.

Then I'd deleted it and typed: Hey, I got to go, nice chatting. Take care and hopefully we can chat again soon.

Good night Todd. Always lovely to chat.

I'd kicked myself, wasting the opportunity, quickly typing, Don't drink too much...without me. Let me know next time and I'll join you!

Then I'd pressed 'send' before I could back out.

I promise I'll save some wine and have you around for dinner sometime.

I'd typed: Sounds great, I look forward to it.

Night Todd :-)

Shit, things are getting real!

There was no more texting between us that evening, which disappointed me no end. I'd spend the rest of the evening reminiscing about the three years I'd worked at the café throughout university, starting out in the kitchen, where Miranda was head chef and Reece her sous chef, or as he liked to describe himself, Miranda's two-I-C.

Back then, as the resident dish-pig, I stacked and unstacked the industrial dishwasher, kept all the pots and pans and surfaces clean, helped Miranda and Reece prepare ingredients, occasionally helped serve customers, and the very end of my shift, I mopped the floors and cleaned the toilet.

Over time I'd graduated to helping Eliana making coffees, taking over Sarah's role as a waiter after she left, and Miranda hired a new kitchen hand, Noah. Depending on the shift I mostly waited on customers, alongside Jack, who'd worked at the café longer than me, or with Anna, who started a year after me.

After the night of texting I didn't hear from Miranda for over a week, then we'd run into each other in a West End supermarket, not far from the café. She'd stopped in on her way home and I was doing my weekly grocery shop.

"Todd," she'd said, noticing me before I'd noticed her. "Fancy running into you here."

I'd grinned. "Can't get rid of each other, can we?"

She'd laughed. "People are going to start talking."

"We should give them something to talk about," I'd said, cheekily. "Anyhow, how are you?"

"Great, Todd, thanks." Her smile was warm and genuine, as always. "And you?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Missing the café, but good."

"You can drop in anytime. I'll tell Eliana you can have coffee on the house when you do."

"Thanks, I'll take you up on your offer. And a feed too, I reckon." I was being cheeky and I'm sure she knew.

"You're pushing your luck there I'm afraid." Then a smile formed on her lips. "But if you'd like a feed I'll cook you something tonight. I have that bottle of wine I mentioned."

"You don't have to cook for me." But I really wanted her to.

"No, of course I don't have to do anything. But I do want to."

Which was exactly what I wanted to hear!

I recalled how my heart fluttered as I wrestled with my feelings for Miranda, wondering, was it lust or were my feelings way deeper? I'd debated with myself constantly over whether our age difference should be an issue or not, wondering if things were going to go further than two people enjoying each other's company. By the time I'd arrived at her house I was nervous in a way I'd never before felt nervous around a women. I was excited, conflicted, and down-right apprehensive, all at the same time.

Miranda made a simple and delicious Asian chicken stir-fry, which we ate, drinking a few glasses of wine and chatting the entire time, all while I tried to gauge if there was something more to our connection.

At around nine in the evening Miranda offered to open another bottle of wine, and I looked into her eyes, thinking how age shouldn't matter. The prickling heat of blood flushed my face and I'd looked away, unsure if Miranda had noticed under her dim dining room lights.

Then I'd chickened out, telling her we should save the second bottle for next time, and how I was glad I'd run into her at the supermarket and how I'd enjoyed a great night with her, but now needed some sleep.

"Ah, yes, you need to be bright and fresh for your new job," she'd said with her usual smile. "It's always a pleasure to chat with you, and we must do this again sometime."

"Definitely. And thanks, it was a pleasure spending the evening with you. We'll make it happen again, I'm sure."

"Most definitely, we must."

I couldn't tell if she was disappointed I was going home, but I sure was.

~0~

Four days following my discussions with Sally, and after further excessive consideration, my finger hovered over the 'send' button on my phone, my text reading: Hi Miranda, we should have the wine we were saving for next time. Saturday evening?

I pressed send, waited with a thumping heart and expectation for a few minutes, then put my phone away and went about my evening. The rest was up to her now.

It was an hour before my phone buzzed and beeped.

Todd! How wonderful to hear from you! Of course, we should definitely share our wine this Saturday. I'll cook you dinner again if you like?

Our wine? Wow!

I was thinking if you'd like to join me on a magical mystery tour? I'll cook for you, and you bring our wine :-)

Her reply was almost immediate: Sounds like a splendid idea!

Then we arranged to meet the following Saturday, around five in the afternoon.

~0~

"Hello!" Miranda's face beamed as she answered her door, clearly pleased to see me. "It's so wonderful to see you."

"Wow, you look great," I said, no hesitation, because she did. It was Miranda's smile that took my breath, and her twinkling eyes, so it was a moment before I noticed she was wearing a knee-length white floral summer dress, nothing fancy mind you, simple and elegant.