I grab an extra chair, and for the next ten minutes we catch up on each other's lives. They approve of the new blend, complimenting its rich flavour. Anthony has an exciting gig at the Rose Theatre next week, and we promise him we'll all be there to watch him play. Basim regrets his career choice as a high school teacher ("Their mood swings faster than a pendulum, I'm telling you"), which makes me think about how terrible we must have been as teenagers. Katya talks a bit about her work as an ethologist, though it's evident Anthony and I can't understand half of what she's saying, despite her infinite patience. Eddie shares a playlist of songs he listens to while working in his garage. It soon turned into a debate over which decade had the best music.
"And how are you faring, William?" says Katya. She tilts her head, and her glasses shift off-center from her nose. "Anything new?"
I drum my fingers on the table and let out a sigh. "The usual. The staff and I are thinking of updating the menu and giving it a fresh look, but we can't decide what items to add." Or more accurately, which items I'm willing to part with. No matter how long I stare at my parents' menu, I can never bring myself to cross out any of the items that have become so entwined with the shop itself.
"Make a seasonal selection," Basim suggests. He jiggles the ice in his glass. "Summer isn't the only season here."
I hum thoughtfully. We do have the regular selections of lattes, espressos, and so on, but they don't sell as well as our Vietnamese-inspired menu items. My parents had wondered about it too, though I prefer to think it's because of my parents' love for our home country. Their passion was the secret ingredient that won over our foreign customer base. As childish as it sounds, there's no doubt that they worked hard to make their dreams a reality here in Canada.
My parents would always emphasize the importance of loving what you do. If you brew with love, they'd say, that's all you need to know to make great coffee. It was what guided me through the months after they passed. The reassurance that as long as I brew with my heart, I can continue my parents' business and in a way, their legacy.
"Seasonal items would be a good idea if you're looking for direction in your menu," Katya agrees, then perks up, as if she's remembered something. "Will, are you thinking of providing other services? Like serving at special events?"
"Hey Anthony, we're crashing at your place after this right?" Eddie asks. I blink, still trying to process Katya's words as Eddie holds up his backpack and grins. "I brought snacks and stuff--enough for all of us."
"'Stuff' better not include anything shady," Anthony warns, wagging his finger for emphasis. "I have my parents to think about."
Basim leans back in his chair. There's a glint in his eye. "Eddie, don't think you can switch the subject so fast." I raise an eyebrow, because his tone has an all-knowing air to it. "Katya, remind us what you were about to say. Something about, oh I don't know, Will serving coffee at your wedding?"
Anthony nearly spews out his coffee. "Excuse? Since when?"
I whip my head to Eddie and Katya, who scowls and quirks a smile respectively. I stand up, nearly knocking over my chair. "No way! Why didn't you tell us sooner?"
"Get down," Eddie grumbles. "It's not for a couple of more years."
"But..." Katya says slyly, "we are engaged." Katya reveals her ring, and Eddie grudgingly shows us his, which hangs from a simple cord on his neck.
Eddie glares at Basim, though Basim is untouchable when it comes to threats and rebukes; there's nothing you could say that he wouldn't one-up. Eventually Katya coaxes the two out of their stare-down match.
"Hey, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," Anthony says with a grin. He tips his hat to the engaged couple. "Congrats to the both of you." I nod in agreement, though I'm at a loss for words. I'm happy for them, of course. But seeing Katya and Eddie be so...ready to move onto the next stage in life has reignited my own thoughts about how moving forward myself.
Basim glances at me, and I know that he knows what I'm thinking. I've talked about it to him countless times after all. At the table behind us, I can hear Misty and a customer joking about the secrets behind the new signature blend. Basim gives me a meaningful look, as if to say, See? You don't need to hold yourself back.
(Scroll down for Part 2/4)
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