Bombarded by philosophies that satisfy the surface

I flee to something deeper at the risk of seeking purpose

How can I hang in this environmental state of being

When everything I'm striving for is nothing that I'm seeing

-DC Talk

Chapter Three

Whitney set the mocha down in front of me as I flipped through a magazine. It was dark in the coffee shop as usual, and The Beatles played softly in the background. She slid into the bar stool beside me and smiled.

"I notice you've been coming here more often around noontime."

I shrugged. "I don't have anything else to do, and my dad didn't force me to get a job this summer. I might have to, though, if I'm going to continue to be this bored."

"Yeah, man, you've got to be really bored to sit here leafing through magazines all day, drinking mocha after mocha and listening to me talk," Whitney shrugged and gestured around her. I guessed her next sentence was going to be about the shop. "This place is a non-profit business, started again by Pastor Matthews."

"Man this guy has a lot of free time," I laughed. "How does this non-profit business work, then, if people still have to pay for their stuff?"

"We only use the money we get to buy more 'stuff' to sell, and to pay the rent and electricity. Any extra money goes to the church or to a trustworthy charity. We have Christian music bands come here all the time; Matthew's a real hard-core rocker. The entrance fees go to support the bands. It's a real ministry and at least one person gets saved during each concert. When we're not rocking and rolling, we're serving coffee," Whitney said. She winked at me. "And guess what? We're in need of another person to do weeknights, from about six to ten and then clean up and closing."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really?" Something inside me told me this was a perfect opportunity, and I realized that my need for a friend wasn't entirely the reason God made me meet Whitney. This coffee shop needed me, and she'd just told me so. "When do I start?"

This sent Whitney off into gales of laughter. She almost fell of her stool in her fit of giggles. When she recovered and had taken a few deep breaths, she told me, "I was hoping you would help me man the place, Heidi, but I didn't expect you to want to do it so soon."

"Like I said before, it's not like I have a tight schedule. I have all the time in the world and what better way to spend it than a good cause like this?" I asked. I looked over at her, smiling.

"Well, you start tonight, then," Whitney replied. "I have to warn you, you get no pay for this whatsoever, unless of course you get tips. And the people are so nice I always get a few tips a day."

"Do you work all afternoon?"

She laughed. "No, of course not. I get to hand off the baton at one, and I come back at six. But there are always more people on Friday nights when we have concerts, so we have more workers then."

"Well, I'll do it then," I said. "Why do you need help on nights? You'd think that people wouldn't drink too much caffeine past six o' clock."

"You're practical," Whitney reminded me. "But you remember those high school summer nights when you stayed up till two or three in the morning hanging out with your friends. High school students from all around always drop in sometime during the evening to get a caffeine boost before heading out with their groups again. We even have a huge crowd of regulars that always come in around nine."

"It's a deal," I checked my watch. "It's time for me to get to meet my sister and her husband for bowling this afternoon. I'll see you at six!"

I was wiping off a table that a previous customer spilled their whipped cream on when a loud, booming voice shouted, "Hey, Whitney!" I whirled around to see a dark-haired, dark-skinned guy hugging an apron-clad Whitney from over the counter. He was tall and she was short so they were having a time of it.

We'd just finished eating a quick five-thirty-in-the-evening meal before getting to work, and we'd had more visitors that I'd expected.

"Hey, James, I didn't even hear you come in!" Whitney said. She was obviously glad to see this guy, and I wondered if they were involved. Not wanting to impose, I kept wiping down the perfectly clean table with my wet rag.

"I knew you'd be working the evening shift, so I wanted to sneak in and surprise you."

"Well, you surprised me by just being here!" squealed Whitney, coming around the counter to give him a full-fledged squeeze. "Man, what are you doing here?"

"Back for the summer, didn't your mom tell you?" the man obviously called James asked.

"No," Whitney replied. Then, seeming to forget their conversation and remembering about me, she sounded excited all over again as she said, "Oh, and I have a new friend who decided just today she wanted to help me with the evening shift."

I turned around to see Whitney and James coming toward me. I stuck out my hand to him. He shook it firmly, and immediately I was captivated. How on earth he'd managed to inherit the deepest black eyes and the darkest black hair was beyond me. And he was good-looking! I was amazed.

Luckily, before I stood there gawking at him for too long, Whitney's voice brought me back to earth. "She was just so quiet doing her job that I forgot all about her for a few seconds. She's saved my life this evening. We've been quite busy."

I grinned over at her and let James' hand go.

The minute I heard the door close behind James I turned to Whitney with what I'm sure was a very excited look on my face. "Was that your boyfriend?"

Again Whitney exploded with laughter. I counted sixty seconds this time before she fully recovered and was able to speak again. "No, that was my cousin! He's great, isn't he, though?"

I nodded. I didn't know whether to be relieved or confused with her statement, so I didn't say anything.

"He's going to college out of state right now, just like you," Whitney said. "The past two summers he's been going on mission's trips, God only knows how he affords to go on them. Last year he went to China, and oh man the pictures he sent back to us!"

"I barely have enough money for gas!" I exclaimed, regaining my thoughts and voice.

Whitney nodded in agreement just as the infamous group of teenagers came into the coffee shop. I prepared myself for a big order.