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Howie came off the stage after the second to the last show of their tour, exhausted beyond compare. His muscles ached plaintively, and the weariness of life on the road was beginning to show around his eyes. Howie collapsed on the couch in the dressing room, and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Howie. “ Denise, the boy’s tour publicist called. He felt something being tossed into his lap. Opening his eyes, Howie saw it was an envelope with the all too familiar handwriting across it.
“Chemelyn...” he murmured, and commenced ripping the paper apart to reveal the letter within. His eyes scanned her note. She thanked him for the plant that he had sent, and for his last letter. The middle paragraph of her reply, captured his full attention.
“-I can hardly believe you exist, Howie. Appearances are usually the foremost concern in the minds of men, but you are different. I assure you I am not the “Wicked Witch of the West”, but it is still comforting to hear such sentiments. I would dearly love to see your face, but I must admit, the prospect scares me quite a bit. Would seeing one another face to face, ruin the heartfelt intimacy we share through our letters? I confess, not knowing exactly who you are in the official sense makes it much easier to open up to you. Do you feel the same way?-”
Howie thought for a moment on what Chemelyn had just said. For so long, he had envisioned one day meeting her, gaining a face to match with her name. However, she brought up a good point. Would they sacrifice some of their special reporte? Deep in his heart, he felt a loud and clear “NO”.
“I just want to see her face.”
“Then why don’t you?” AJ asked.
“Excuse me?” Howie questioned in confusion.
“You said you just wanted to see her face. Well, what’s stopping you?” AJ explained.
“That was out loud?”
AJ rolled his eyes. “Obviously, my good friend.”
“The tour. The tour is stopping me.” Howie defended.
“The tour ends in another four days, or did you forget?” AJ smiled. “Give it up, D. I’ve got ya. You COULD go see Chemelyn...... if you really wanted too.” he added provocatively. Howie sat back in thought for a moment.
“AJ.....what if seeing her ruins our intimacy?”
“How could it? I understand that it may be easy to converse more candidly with someone you’ve never met and feel a reporte with, but you’ve known her for more than six months. D.....if you don’t feel comfortable with her now, chances are, you never will.”
“AJ...I’m just scared. You’ve heard how it is. We can both hardly believe that the other exists, and hold one another up to be absolutely wonderful. I’m not perfect. I’m afraid I’ll disappoint her.”
“Did you just hear what you said? You’re not perfect, and I’ll be the first to attest to that.” AJ said with a teasing grin. “But consider this.....Chemelyn isn’t perfect either. She has bad habits just like you and I. Before you go worrying about how Chemelyn views you, you should evaluate how you view Chemelyn.”
“Do you think it’s too late to book a flight to Seattle?”
*****
The cafe was seemingly the busiest it had ever been. Customers had been pouring in all morning long, and it looked as though the pattern would continue throughout the lunch hour.
“Double shot, hazelnut, latte, tall.” the woman next in line said.
“Skim, 2%, or whole milk?” Chemelyn inquired.
“Skim.”
*@*
Malone finished setting down the couple’s order, and turned to make his way back toward the kitchen. Yet another customer pushed open the door, setting the tiny bell above jingling. Malone wasn’t sure why he stopped, but he did. The man took a table by one of the front windows. He had a Spanish look to his complexion, his hair slicked back in a ponytail. The man was clad in a a pair of khakis and a white dress shirt, open partially to reveal a white wifebeater undershirt beneath. As he gazed about the room, a small smile curled his lips.
“Cute....” Malone murmured with a smile. The matchmaking wheels inside his head began to turn.
*@*
As soon as Howie had stepped inside the small restaurant, he knew that it must be the one. The cafe was exactly as Chemelyn had described it, or so he thought. Howie prayed that it was not just wishful thinking. He had already visited several cafes that morning, and was beginning to grow tired of the guessing game. As he seated himself next to one of the front windows and took the time to scrutinize his surroundings, Howie became positive that this cafe was THE ONE.
Soft beige walls accented with black and white photographs enclosed the place; the cherry wood tables suited the restaurant perfectly, and the different tapestry lamp shades which hung over each table provided an atmosphere unlike any Howie had dined in before. A large ficus plant stood in one corner. A smile curved across Howie’s mouth, and he began to casually glance about for the woman of his dreams.
*@*
“There you go...One double shot, hazelnut, latte, tall, with skim milk. That’ll be $2.75.” Chemelyn quoted with a friendly smile. She took the money the woman handed over, and made change. “Have a nice day!” At that point, Malone practically attacked her.
“Chem!” he exclaimed.
“Malone! God, you scared me! What’s up?” she questioned, as he pulled her aside, motioning Charity into Chemelyn’s place behind the counter.
“Don’t look now, but there’s a hottie at nine o’clock.”
“Malone! No, I’m not playing this game with you!” she warned, backing away.
“Please?” he pled, “One more time?”
“No thank you. I’ve had just about enough of your matchmaking! The last man you set me up with made me take my shoes off before he would let me get into his car!”
“That was a mistake. I know I’m right this time.” he assured her.
“No.”
“Fine. I’m taking my break.” Malone said huffily, knowing full well what he was doing.
“Malone......if you take your break now, then I have to wait tables.”
“I know.” he grinned.
“Grrr!” Chemelyn growled in defeat. “Fine, give me that!” she hissed, and grabbed the tray out of his hands. “Do I look okay?”
“I thought you didn’t want to play this game?” he teased.
“I don’t! But neither do I want to embarrass myself!”
“You’re beautiful. Now go, or he’ll think we’ve got terribly poor service.” Malone ordered, giving Chemelyn a little shove toward the floor of the cafe. She turned and gave him her best evil eye, then returned her attention to making it across the floor without tripping.
*@*
Howie sat surveying the room from his vantage point. Chemelyn really did have very good taste in furnishings. Suddenly, he caught sight of a woman making her way across the floor. She wore a black apron around her waist, and held a tray in her hands. She stopped at a nearby table, giving Howie ample time to observe her. She stood about five foot four inches tall, with a slim figure which was clad in a pair of black slacks and a white speghetti strap tank top. The sun outside was probably the first of the season, and she was obviously taking advantage of the warmer weather. The woman’s light brown hair was pulled up on a messy knot on top of her head, and her peaches and cream complexion coupled with rosy cheeks made her beauty a very natural one.
Just then, a young girl positioned behind the counter called out a familiar name.
“Chemelyn!” Howie’s head jerked up, and he turned toward her voice. In amazement, he watched breathlessly, as the waitress he had been observing turned and said,
“Yes?”
Howie worked hard to even out his breathing, feeling the excitement rise within him. The woman, who he had been planning on asking about the owner of the cafe, turned out to be the one that he would have inquired after. Howie sat riveted, watching Chemelyn’s every movement. She was beautiful. Her personable smile seemed to light up the room, and she was kind with all of the customers, treating them as if she had known them for years. Suddenly, she was in front of him.
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