Coffeehouse Angel by Suzanne Selfors Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Suzanne Selfors
help."
"Is that what you most desire?"
She looked at me, the creases in her face relaxing.
"What I most desire is for you to have a long and happy life, sweetheart."
Irmgaard collected her coat and purse.
"Why don't you stay and have dinner with us?" Grandma Anna asked, as she always did. "There's no reason to eat alone." Irmgaard shook her head, as she always did, and left to catch the bus, a Tupperware container of extra soup tucked under her arm.
Our apartment sat above the coffeehouse. It would have been nice to have a yard and a garage. I had both when I was three, the year my parents were killed in a car crash.
But those memories were just vapors--the sound of a lawn mower, a bowl of Cheerios, a woman's scarf, soft and red.
Grandma Anna went to bed earlier than usual, upset by Mr. Darling's visit. I slipped out of my clothes and stood in front of my bedroom mirror. The first thing I always noticed when I looked in the mirror was my height. Five foot eight seemed crazy tall to me. What was good about being so tall? Supermodel tall, maybe. Basketball player tall, totally. God help me, but if I grew another inch I'd become an honorary member of the Masai tribe.
Pajamas on, homework spread across my bed, the phone rang. "Hey, I saw you standing on the sidewalk with that guy. What did he want?" It was Vincent. He was eating something crunchy.
"He just wanted to thank me for giving him some coffee. How was the meet?"
"Okay." Genuine modesty was one of the things I really liked about Vincent.
"How did you do?"
"First in the fifty backstroke."
"How did Heidi do?"
"Heidi?" The crunching stopped. "Why are you asking about Heidi?"
"No reason."
Because I saw you hanging out with her and now I'm thinking the worst. Because at some point you're going to get a girlfriend, aren't you? Of course you are. You're amazing. And then I'll have to scoot over so she can sit next to you at the movies. And what if she wants butter on the popcorn, after you and I agreed that movie theater butter tastes rancid? That could be a real problem.
"It's just that Heidi's dad was here today and he wants to give us money to vacate so he can expand Java Heaven. He's such a jerk. He was really mean to Grandma. I wish the Darlings would just move away."
"Mr. Darling's a jerk, that's for sure. But Heidi's not so bad. She can't help the way her dad is. You know she does a lot of good stuff for the community. She volunteers at the food bank and I was thinking about helping her a few times. Anyway, don't worry.
Her dad can't force you to leave."
Oh God! How could he say that Heidi wasn't so bad? Why was he defending her?
I lay back against the pillows. "Mr. Darling said that he didn't like being disappointed.
I think that was a threat."
"Just keep boycotting Java Heaven. What more can you do? You know I'll never buy their coffee. Hey, you sure that guy with the skirt wasn't bothering you?"
"He's gone."
"Good. Okay. I'll come by in the morning." I stared at the ceiling for a long time.
What was bugging me more--the idea of Vincent going out with Heidi, or the idea of him going out with anyone? Would I be so worried if he started dating someone else?
I'd be fine with it, wouldn't I?
He can't force you to leave. I thought about that as I opened my World Mythology textbook. It seemed like Mr. Darling could do whatever he wanted. He had gotten the space next door, even after Grandma had begged the landlord not to rent to him. I wrapped my bathrobe tighter and stuck my feet under the quilt. Our apartment felt colder than usual. The furnace was probably on the fritz again.
The next story in the good deed chapter was "Jack and the Beanstalk." I yawned. Did I even need to read it? Everyone knows that story.
This kid named Jack trades a cow for a bean that grows into a beanstalk. Or maybe it's three beans. His mother gets mad at him. Or maybe it's his father. But I knew that they were poor. Something about a golden harp and a man-eating giant.
"Is that what you most desire?"
She looked at me, the creases in her face relaxing.
"What I most desire is for you to have a long and happy life, sweetheart."
Irmgaard collected her coat and purse.
"Why don't you stay and have dinner with us?" Grandma Anna asked, as she always did. "There's no reason to eat alone." Irmgaard shook her head, as she always did, and left to catch the bus, a Tupperware container of extra soup tucked under her arm.
Our apartment sat above the coffeehouse. It would have been nice to have a yard and a garage. I had both when I was three, the year my parents were killed in a car crash.
But those memories were just vapors--the sound of a lawn mower, a bowl of Cheerios, a woman's scarf, soft and red.
Grandma Anna went to bed earlier than usual, upset by Mr. Darling's visit. I slipped out of my clothes and stood in front of my bedroom mirror. The first thing I always noticed when I looked in the mirror was my height. Five foot eight seemed crazy tall to me. What was good about being so tall? Supermodel tall, maybe. Basketball player tall, totally. God help me, but if I grew another inch I'd become an honorary member of the Masai tribe.
Pajamas on, homework spread across my bed, the phone rang. "Hey, I saw you standing on the sidewalk with that guy. What did he want?" It was Vincent. He was eating something crunchy.
"He just wanted to thank me for giving him some coffee. How was the meet?"
"Okay." Genuine modesty was one of the things I really liked about Vincent.
"How did you do?"
"First in the fifty backstroke."
"How did Heidi do?"
"Heidi?" The crunching stopped. "Why are you asking about Heidi?"
"No reason."
Because I saw you hanging out with her and now I'm thinking the worst. Because at some point you're going to get a girlfriend, aren't you? Of course you are. You're amazing. And then I'll have to scoot over so she can sit next to you at the movies. And what if she wants butter on the popcorn, after you and I agreed that movie theater butter tastes rancid? That could be a real problem.
"It's just that Heidi's dad was here today and he wants to give us money to vacate so he can expand Java Heaven. He's such a jerk. He was really mean to Grandma. I wish the Darlings would just move away."
"Mr. Darling's a jerk, that's for sure. But Heidi's not so bad. She can't help the way her dad is. You know she does a lot of good stuff for the community. She volunteers at the food bank and I was thinking about helping her a few times. Anyway, don't worry.
Her dad can't force you to leave."
Oh God! How could he say that Heidi wasn't so bad? Why was he defending her?
I lay back against the pillows. "Mr. Darling said that he didn't like being disappointed.
I think that was a threat."
"Just keep boycotting Java Heaven. What more can you do? You know I'll never buy their coffee. Hey, you sure that guy with the skirt wasn't bothering you?"
"He's gone."
"Good. Okay. I'll come by in the morning." I stared at the ceiling for a long time.
What was bugging me more--the idea of Vincent going out with Heidi, or the idea of him going out with anyone? Would I be so worried if he started dating someone else?
I'd be fine with it, wouldn't I?
He can't force you to leave. I thought about that as I opened my World Mythology textbook. It seemed like Mr. Darling could do whatever he wanted. He had gotten the space next door, even after Grandma had begged the landlord not to rent to him. I wrapped my bathrobe tighter and stuck my feet under the quilt. Our apartment felt colder than usual. The furnace was probably on the fritz again.
The next story in the good deed chapter was "Jack and the Beanstalk." I yawned. Did I even need to read it? Everyone knows that story.
This kid named Jack trades a cow for a bean that grows into a beanstalk. Or maybe it's three beans. His mother gets mad at him. Or maybe it's his father. But I knew that they were poor. Something about a golden harp and a man-eating giant.