The coffee shop is slow through the rest of the afternoon, the hours taking forever to pass. I let Jeff talk about the last Avenger movie and spoiling for me. All I can do is to share with him the Incredible Hulk was the only Avenger movie I'd watched.

"Which one?"

"The one with Edward Norton."

He cracks a laugh, "Where did you spend most of your years, Cassidy?" he asks me before deciding to go for a smoke outside by the dumpsters.

"May I help you?" I ask a man that comes in suddenly. He appears as if he hadn't taken a shower for many days. His long-braided beard is bigger than Jeff's. His jeans above his tennis shoes are torn apart, exposing the different color pair of socks underneath.

"Yes, an espresso coffee, ma'am," both of his hands are shaking when he handles me a one-dollar bill.

"It is one dollar and fifty cents," I tell him the correct price politely.

"I don't have fifty cents," He tells me as he scratches the side of his back.

"That's fine. You can have it." I grab fifty cents from the tip jar, dropping it into the cash register along with his one-dollar bill. "Would you like something to eat, too?"

"Maybe this chocolate muffin," he smiles with his crooked teeth.

"Oh, here it is," I handle him. I place another two-dollar and fifteen cents from the jar into the cash register.

"Oh, I really appreciate it." He tells me before sitting at the table after handling his coffee, the espresso coffee, and the muffin. Denver enters Sophie right after and orders a cold wrap.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him. I'm almost certain Scarlet won't come back, but still, I don't want to take the risk of being reported or creating more trouble.

"I came here to get something to eat. That's all," I look at him as if I don't believe him. I handle him the only chicken ranch wrap we have available. "I was just walking in the neighborhood and decided to stop by." Then he sits at a table at the corner and eats his wrap while staring at me from time to time.

I grasp a dark roast coffee package, grab a filter, and brew some more fresh coffee in the pot. By the time I'm done, Sylvia also comes through the door. She is wearing a nice dress, and her smile looks vibrant.

"I'm going on a date," she tells me. "Where is Jeff?"

"He is in the back in his smoking break." Should I have told her that? She doesn't seem to mind. "But that's nice that you're going on a date." She has her hair nicely done with highlights that brightened her up and her tanning skin. Her tamed eyebrows stand out over her makeup, and her muscle body is toned over the white jeans.

"Yes, I can't believe it. I'm about to turn fifty, and I realize I'm not dead. Maybe you should go on a date, too, Cassidy. There are nice guys in town. Look at that cute one," she shows me Denver eating his wrap at the table. He smiles at me.

"You see? He is even staring at you like he wants to take you on a date."

"But he is a customer...I shouldn't."

"Holy crap. Who cars if he is a customer. Go get him, girl." I don't know where to place my face since she is louder than normal, and I fear Denver is listening. Jeff comes over at the moment. Sylvia handles the schedule for the next two weeks.

"Wow," he says when he looks at her, all dressed up.

"I'm going on a date tonight, Jeff. Do you think the guy will like me?"

"Of course, he will," he compliments her in his down-to-earth manner.

"In fact, I have no problem being fifty," she says. "Why do I want to go back to my twenty-something? I'm in the process of self-discovery. I don't need Botox or surgery. I wouldn't say I like how Botox makes people look and how they go overboard on that. My natural expression is all I have after all," she keeps a smile. "Look, girl, I can frown," she shows me a frown.

Jeff cracks a laugh. He probably thinks we are losing our minds here about this Botox conversation.

"That's true," says Sylvia, "All I need is a nice glass of wine and good conversation to be good for the night."

"So, what's your secret, Sylvia?" I ask her. After all, happiness has so many faces. For someone who lost her baby a few years ago, she has overcome the most difficult times of her life.

"I don't take showers. I take baths instead. Then I sleep at least eight hours a day, exercise regularly, and keep myself on the keto diet. I don't smoke. I am not a drinker. I don't use drugs of any kind."

"Marijuana is not a drug," Jeff tells her.

"Go figure," she says. "Like I've never done before, Jeff. It makes you hungry, doesn't it?"

I interrupt the conversation by looking at the schedule in front of me, "Why am I not on the schedule for next weekend?" I suddenly remember I have that camping trip, but I hadn't been approved by Scarlet, saying she wouldn't be able to give me off.

"You've been working too much lately, Cassidy. Both Meggie and Danika texted me to let me know there is a camping trip coming up on those dates," she moves around the shop, "What the hell is this smell?"

I'm confused at first. If Jeff were smoking weed by the dumpsters, is it possible that the smell would come all the way here? But I don't smell any in his shirt. I look around where Denver is finishing his wrap but doesn't attempt the leave the table.

"Do you smell that, Jeff?" Sylvia asks in a low voice. I know now where it's coming from, but I prefer not to say anything.

Jeff sniffs the odor. "Oh yeah. It is the homeless man sitting out there," She looks over at him, his hands shaking over the coffee, the chocolate muffin untouched.

Jeff speaks in a low voice, "He usually panhandles at the State street. "I give him some cash sometimes."

"You should never give your money away like that," Sylvia tells him, "But if he is hungry, offer him something nice to eat." Then she looks at the shelf where the wraps are, "We don't have a chicken wrap, but we still have the turkey and cheddar one. Save for him."

Next, she replaces the old schedule for the new one by hanging it on the door and bids me and Jeff bye before leaving Sophie's to go on her date downtown.

The man then stands up, "Would you like to take some wraps with you tonight? I offer him. He takes a sip of his coffee.

"Oh, yes, of course," he answers, "That's very nice of you. He scratches his beard and then stands up, "I'm going to the bathroom to take a piss. When I'm done, I will get the wraps and then head out to Salvation Army, the place where I'm staying now.

"Okay. Take your time." I see the man entering the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

The place is dead now, with only Denver sitting on the corner. He looks over at me from his table, "Can I have a strawberry Frappuccino." I know he doesn't want to leave any time soon.

"Hi, Denver, what's up?" asks Jeff when he takes notice of him there. Everyone seems to know Denver.

I prepare the Frappuccino as Jeff turns on the radio.

I finish preparing the Frappuccino and serve him. His dark eyes are intense. "So, it seems that we have been approved for a camping trip," he continues to gaze at me while collecting the paper wrap and throwing it on the garbage before returning to his seat.

"You were paying attention."

"I can't stop paying attention to you, Cassidy."

"Don't you meet other girls in town?"

"Yes, I did. One ran away to one of my best friends, and the other didn't really like boys," he takes a sip of his Frappuccino.

"So, you have to keep looking," I stare back at him.

"I found her. She is right here in front of me."

"I haven't moved here to find people to date. I came here for college and then found my way back home."

"That seems boring."

"How boring?"

"That seems you just come here to study, finish college, and go back home. So, what's the purpose behind all that? Besides, that seems robotic. You can find someone nice that will be with you through your good and bad days, take you nice places, live the adventure of life."

"So, what is the adventure of life, Mr. Right?"

"Make mistakes, and live every second of the day without regrets." His words touch me deeply. How can you live without any regrets? I wish I could. Life seems so simple to Denver. Should I admire him for that?

Jeff calls me, "Hey, Cassidy, I'm afraid that the man who was sitting on that table," he points to the table whose espresso and muffin remain unopened, "is still in the bathroom for a while. It's been twenty minutes, and I don't hear anything." I realize Jeff has turned off the radio, and I can't seem to hear any commotion coming from there.

"Do you think is it a good idea to check on him?"

Denver intervenes, "I would if I were you. He has a history of being hospitalized."

"How do you know that?"

"Everyone who lives here long enough knows Buddy. He usually panhandles on the state street or by the Beacon house. When he is not there is because he is placed in a transitional home or hospitalized."

I look over at his table, the espresso coffee practically untouched and cold by now. He has gotten maybe a bite or two from the muffin, the pieces and crumbs spread all over.

I head to the bathroom and knock on the door, but there is no answer, "Jeff, do you have an extra key?"

***

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