"This is it, Sophia." Carol said as she put the last few paper cups on the counter next to the expresso machine. "We're open for business today."
"I just wish you had taken my advice and waited for a retail space to open up in a better part of town." Sophia had worried over the neighborhood over the whole year that they were doing renovations, but her concerns would not stop her mother. Carol Peletier was going to open The Waking Dead Coffee shop on this block on this day if it killed her.
"This will be good." She smiled and pulled the little metal chord on the neon "open" sign and unlocked the door. "A fresh start."
"That's a cliché, mom." Sophia rolled her eyes.
"That's why I said it." Carol reached out and tucked a piece of blond hair behind the 18 year-old's ears and planted a kiss on the scar on her forehead, left behind after Ed had smashed a lamp over her head in one of his rages—his last to be exact. "You ready for some customers?"
"As I'll ever be." Sophia shook her hair free again and picked up the big chalkboard specials sign and waddled it out the front door to set on the sidewalk. She came back in trailed by a few friends and customers—Carol's mother and sister, Sophia's friends from the university, and a few curious people who worked on the street, and after a few minutes, they had a small line going. Café mochas, dark roast coffees, and French vanilla lattes were their first orders, and Sophia was running the machines with precision focus in no time. After an hour, the two had settled into a comfortable routine with Carol taking orders and Sophia making them. They rotated out who was bussing tables. It was going well, and Carol was relieved and excited.
"Welcome to Waking Dead Coffee!" She chimed out as another customer came in. He was a younger guy, maybe mid-30s, in a flannel shirt that was missing its sleeves and covered in motor oil.
He didn't look up from his yellow work gloves, grimy with oil and dirt, as he pulled them off and set them on the counter to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. "Two coffees, black." He looked up and scanned the pastry display next to Carol. "And one of… whatever those things are." He gestured vaguely at a pastry.
"Blueberry scone?" Carol said, still smiling, though he still wasn't looking.
"Sure." He grunted, pulling a ten out of his wallet and dropping it on the counter. "Keep the change."
"Alright." Carol got the two cups out for the black coffee. "Can I get a name for your order?"
"Daryl." As she wrote "Darrell" on the cup, he wandered away from the counter a bit, looking at the cartoon zombie moaning "coffeeeeee" on the shop's logo under the pastry display. He snorted; from amusement or incredulity, Carol couldn't tell.
Sophia was filling the cups with coffee as Carol pulled a blueberry scone from the pastry display and placed it in a paper to-go bag. Daryl continued to wander around and look at the displays, until she called out his name and he went back up to the counter to get his order. "Do you need a cup-carrier?" Carol asked, holding up a cardboard carrier.
"Uh—" BANG BANG BANG. A loud knocking on the window at the front of the shop caused several customers to jump. Carol looked out and saw a burly guy, equally covered in oil and dirt, looking in the window with a look on his face that said "what's taking so long?" Daryl just grabbed both cups and the pastry bag and muttered, "No, I got it. Thanks."
"Have a good day." Carol said.
"Uh, yeah, you, too." Daryl returned as he balanced his purchase and made his way outside.
Before the door shut, Carol could hear the other man say, "What, did you get yourself a croissant, Darlena?" And then he took the pastry bag and tossed it in the trash as they walked away from the store.
"He was cute." Sophia said, and Carol jumped a little. She hadn't known Sophia was standing there.
"Please, Sophia, he's almost twice your age."
"I meant for you, mom. Nice and rugged, you know?"
Carol rolled her eyes. "I'll tell you the same thing I said last week when you thought I'd pair well with the cashier at Wal*Mart: we're not having this conversation right now. It's too soon."
Sophia shrugged. "Whatever. I was just making conversation."