Her Last Wish (3 page)

But the fact that I
could be turned down by that one, as well, simply because my wife was no longer
with me was too much. Didn’t they understand that I wanted to do this to have a
part of her with me after her death? This had been important to her. It was important
to
me
. I couldn’t let her go.

As my blood pressure quickly
rose, I heard a soft tap on the table in front of me, startling me out of my
own personal storm. I put my hands down and slowly guided my eyes up in search
of the source of the noise. Standing in front of me was my favorite coffee
girl, looking beautiful, as always, and some male companion that I recalled
seeing in passing. He could have been in one of my classes at one point in
time, but you couldn’t prove it by me. His appearance was generally
forgettable, looking exactly like every other punk college student I’ve ever
come across in my career. Coffee Girl didn’t wear her usual uniform, but both
she and her companion carried cups with the coffee bar logo. She smiled sweetly
at me, and I nearly forgot all about my phone call. She carefully tucked a
strand of her long, dark hair behind her ear. Her blue eyes sparkled in the
filtered sunlight streaming through the window.

“Professor Mason,” she
greeted.

I tried to say
something, anything, but I couldn’t find words. She was such a sight for sore
eyes. I didn’t understand why I felt that way. It bothered me. Even though it
made me feel more human, I really shouldn't have noticed a difference between
her and any of the other students in the room. In fact, I should have felt the
same way about her as I felt about that guy next to her. Instead of letting my
relief at her presence (and the frustration it brought me) show, I simply
nodded.

“I’m just coming by to
say hi. You looked like you needed this.” She pointed to the new cup on my
table. “Hazelnut macchiato. Your usual. Stan isn’t very good at them.” She
gestured to Beardy behind the counter, who looked even less thrilled to be
there than he had moments before. “He tries, I think, but …”

I tried not to laugh,
an odd feeling seeing as how I had been so far from even wanting to smile just
a few moments before. But saying Beardy wasn’t good at making drinkable coffee
was about like saying that night is dim or rain is damp. A serious
understatement, indeed. “Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. I just hope
it helps with … You know … whatever.” She smiled again. “I’ll see you in class
on Monday.” She gently took the hand of her companion, who appeared as if his
patience had run thin way before they’d ever approached me.

A jolt of ... something
... ran through me. It felt remarkably like jealousy. I shrugged it off as
missing the feel of Elizabeth's hand in mine. And I did miss it. More than
anything. But I had to admit that somewhere deep down, somehow, I had developed
a distant sort of affection for my coffee girl. She was oddly comforting just
by being in the same room.

When she started to
walk away, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to know her name for good. It
seemed terrible of me to see her so often but not even know something so simple
without seeing it on a piece of paper or a name badge. Elizabeth would have
been so disappointed in me. “Wait!” I called.

The pair turned to face
me. “Yes?” she asked.

“I apologize. I see you
in class nearly every morning and here nearly every afternoon, but I keep
forgetting your name. Could you please remind me?”

The male next to her
snorted with a mixture of impatience and mockery. I didn’t blame him. I felt
awful. I expected to see the same impatience on her face, but instead I found
only sympathy. It felt as if she could see right through me down to my deepest
suffering. “Charlie,” she replied. “Charlie Sterling.” She lifted her hand that
remained joined with the snickering male’s. “This is my boyfriend, Jackson.”
The male gave me a proud smirk. I supposed I would have rubbed it in some, too,
if I’d had someone that beautiful and sweet on my arm.

I tried to smile
politely back, even though I didn’t particularly care who he was. I hoped it
worked. But I nodded in his direction, just in case it didn’t, right before I
turned back to her. “I’ll remember next time. Thank you for the kind gesture.
It was definitely needed today.”

“You’re very welcome.
See you Monday.”

“Bright and early.”

As I watched them
leave, I felt strange. More importantly, I
felt
. It wasn’t anything more
than a strange stirring deep inside my chest that I couldn’t pinpoint, but it
was enough to chase away some of the intense torment I felt when I thought of
Elizabeth, which consumed me nearly every second of every day. No, this was
something entirely different. It almost appeared as if the part of me that
Elizabeth had discovered had slowly begun to reawaken. A lighter, brighter part
of me that I thought had been devoured by my own misery. Strange how such a
simple act of kindness could confuse me as much as it had.

Charlie Sterling. I needed
to know more about her. I wondered if spending more time with her would make me
feel fully alive again. I seemed to notice more each time I saw her. At the
same time, I knew my wild idea could never become more than simply a daydream.
She was a student. I couldn’t allow her to be more than that. Not even a
friend. It was too risky, both for my job and my emotions.

Chapter Three

Charlie

“That was weird,”
Jackson stated once we’d left the coffee bar. He squeezed my hand tighter, as
if to ensure I was still there. I could hear the annoyance weighing down his mood.

“A little, yeah,” I
agreed. “I wonder what was wrong with him.”

“Other than the fact
that he’s going crazy? I mean he yelled at his phone in the middle of a coffee
bar filled with people.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s
crazy. It only means he’s upset. I'm sure that call was important.” As I stared
down at the ground just ahead, I could feel Jackson’s gaze on me. I tried to
ignore it, knowing I wouldn’t appreciate the scrutiny that I’d find there. I
hadn’t done anything wrong. He had no reason to be upset with me. He also had
no reason to talk bad about the professor, which is why I couldn’t just say
nothing in his defense.

“Why do you bother to
remember his coffee when he can’t even bother to remember your name?”

I shrugged. “It's my
job to remember my repeat customers and their preferences. Just like it’s his
job to teach me, not necessarily remember me. I’m one student out of hundreds.
I don’t expect him to know every name of every person that walks through his
lecture hall. Can we just talk about something else, please?” I couldn’t stand
Jackson picking Professor Mason apart. It wasn’t fair to do so to someone who
wasn’t even there to defend himself. And even if he were there, I didn’t see
why Jackson cared about it. What difference did it make if your professor
didn’t know your name? It didn’t hurt my feelings any, and it certainly didn’t
hurt my grades, which were actually pretty great. They were proof that my name
didn’t matter. My hard work did.

“Sometimes, Charlie,
you’re too nice a person.”

“I don’t see how that’s
possible.”

He gently squeezed my
hand. “Believe me. It’s possible. We see a troubled teacher in a coffee bar,
and you make him coffee, even though it's your day off and he makes more money
in a week than you do in a month, maybe longer. You shouldn’t waste your time
or money like that.”

I glanced up at him as
we walked down the sidewalk toward Jackson’s car to find his brow furrowed and
his lips in a hard line. Something about the whole situation had really
irritated him in a way that ensured he wouldn’t be calming anytime soon. I had
no idea what bothered him so much, but he’d been acting strange since we walked
out the door. “I would do the same for you,” I replied. “Coffee or whatever
else would make you feel better.” Thinking back on the situation at my
apartment, I decide to slightly amend my statement. “Within reason, of course.
If it gives someone even a slight smile, I’d hardly consider it wasted time or
money.” I studied his face. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” His expression
never changed, confirming what I’d already known.

I pulled my hand out of
his and crossed my arms over my chest, careful not to spill my drink. “Why are
you lying to me?”

“Oh, come on, Charlie!”
he complained. “Tell me you didn’t notice!”

“Notice what?”

He stopped walking and
nodded his head back toward the coffee bar. “I just don’t like how he was
looking at you. Every time I see him, he ignores the hell out of everyone. It’s
always been that way, even when I was in his class last semester. But not you. Hell,
he even ignored
me
, and I was standing
right there
.”

“I don’t think he meant
anything by it.”

Jackson rolled his
eyes. “Of course, he didn’t. You’re too naïve.”

I had really wanted to
spend the day with Jackson. I had missed him, and I had assignments that I had
to start on the next day, so I wouldn’t be behind the next week when my class
and work schedule occupied most of my time. I wouldn’t have a free day to see
him for another week, when I got my one day off again. But I just didn’t see
his mood improving anytime in the near future, no matter what I said or did to
try to appease him. Between turning him down and whatever went on in the coffee
bar that I clearly didn’t understand, there was no way. In fact, I could only
foresee it getting worse. It always did. And even if it wasn’t directly my
fault, he’d still take it out on me as if it were. Once he fell into one of his
bad moods, that was it. There was no saving it. He had to calm down in his own
time. It was something that I had come to accept, even if I didn’t always like
it.

Seeing no other way
out, I sighed. I had no alternate choice if I wanted to avoid the day ending in
a train wreck that would probably poke a few holes in our relationship for an
uncertain amount of time. I’d just seen it too many times to expect it to be
any different. “Look, thank you for taking me here. But I think I’m going to
catch a cab and go home. I’ll just see you next weekend.”

“What? Why?” he yelled.

I raised my hand in a
gesture that told him to quiet down. He must have realized that he’d yelled at
me, because his jaw clenched. I found it ironic that he’d condemned Professor
Mason for doing the exact same thing to whoever was on the other end of his phone
call only moments before. I think Jackson noticed, too. “Because I don’t want
to fight today. I don’t know what happened to make you so angry in there that
you’re still angry out here. But I
do
know how angry you stay, and I
just don’t want to be around for it. I’m sorry. I just can’t handle fighting
with you today. Not when I have to go so long without seeing you again.”

“I’m not going to
fight!” he yelled back.

I couldn’t respond
without getting more of the same, so I gently kissed him on the cheek and
headed back to the coffee bar without saying anything further.

“Charlie, come back
here!”

I simply waved back at
him and kept walking until I reached the doors. When I got in, everything
looked nearly the same as when we’d left, even though
I
felt different.
My mood had soured. I knew it was the best thing for me to do for the day, but
it still hurt me to have to walk away from Jackson, even though we both knew it
was only temporary. I smiled at Stan, who simply nodded at me from over the
counter. I hadn’t expected anything better from him, so it was okay.

“Hey Stan, I’m going to
borrow the phone,” I stated, walking over to the counter.

“Yeah, whatever. Go
ahead,” he grumbled. He never seemed happy to be anywhere. If I hadn’t already
known that, I might have taken some offense to his moderate rudeness.

“Thanks.” I hurried
behind the counter and dug through one of the drawers for a phone book.
Although it was usually there, I couldn’t find it. “Dammit!” I said under my
breath. Then I asked in a louder voice, “Stan, where’s the phone book?” When I
looked at him, I found he’d completely ignored me. I had expected as much, but
I’d admittedly hoped this would be the one time he’d do differently.

“Is there something I
can help with?” a familiar voice asked from the other side of the counter.

I looked over to find
Professor Mason smiling at me. His deep blue eyes sparkled in amusement, though
I wasn’t sure what he found so entertaining. I couldn’t help but think how much
younger he looked when he smiled. He wasn’t old, by any stretch, but he rarely gave
anything like a smile. It aged him by almost a decade. His happier appearance
was a welcome change. “I was just looking for the phone book.”

“I don’t generally
carry one. However …” He pulled out a smartphone and clicked on the icon for an
internet browser.

I stared at his phone
as if it were some alien device. As far as my knowledge level went, it might as
well have been. I was never able to afford one. Rent made much more sense on
the budget. Plus, people seemed to guard their phones as they would their
underwear drawers. What if I did something wrong and stumbled into something
personal?