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Maddy

Maddy's week is dragging. Nothing seems to make sense to her anymore.

It's like the whole world has stopped turning, time stood still. Except that, that's not quite right. Everyone else is moving, and everything else is turning, it's her that is stood painfully still. It would be distressing if she could bring herself to care.

She fingers the books in her hands, stroking the scuffed edges.

She'd decided to go charity shop hunting this morning, another of Thea's favourite pastimes. One that they had, until recently, shared. Any other day it would feel too sad, but Saturdays seem to be reserved for grieving now, and this is the perfect shop.

Just down the road from Coffee Club, she's guaranteed to be in time for her reservation. She smiles a little, thinking of it like that.

Her reservation with a stranger. It's better than thinking of it as a reservation with the dead. She's not really sure why she keeps going, and why she feels compelled to stay, but for now it feels right. In a world that feels so distinctly wrong, Maddy needs all the right she can find.

The books in her hands are old and worn and perhaps a little worse for wear. Well, she thinks, that's ok. She isn't shipshape either.

She moves to the till, smiling halfheartedly as she nudges the books across the desk. They're scanned in silence and Maddy's grateful. She isn't a great conversationalist at her best, so now she must be truly awful.

She looks out the window, waiting with card in hand.

Across the street she spots a familiar head of hair, and stands a little straighter.

It's her stranger. She glances at her watch and notes that he's running a little early today. Her stomach twists suddenly with anxiety, hoping that he won't mind her joining him again. She's gotten used to their little arrangement already, but that doesn't mean that he has.

He's taller than she realised, now not hunched over a steaming mug of coffee. He's wearing navy trousers and another ancient woollen sweater, this time a nordic sort of design on the front. He must be the only other person in town to wear jumpers as ancient as hers.

The thought makes her smile a little more.

She taps her card duly, now feeling a little impatient. She bundles her books into her tote and whispers a quiet goodbye as she dashes out the door.

The cold wind whips her hair around her head and she wishes that she had taken the time to look at the hats and scarves. But no time for that now.

She presses on, her skirt billowing between her legs as the cold and frost bite at her nose. She wraps her jacket tighter across her body, and when she stumbles into the cafe, she sighs audibly in relief.

Her teeth are chattering softly as she approaches the till, which makes the barista laugh.

He's familiar, and Maddy has seen him before. His name tag says Jerome, and his entire face is open and friendly as he waits for her order. He seems more than just familiar though.

"Hang on, let me see if I remember..." Jerome says, making a bit of a show of pressing his fingers to his temples, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Almond latte with cinnamon on top." He says finally, eyes opening as he raises an eyebrow. His smile is cheeky and mischievous, as though he's asking her to prove him wrong.

Maddy smiles halfheartedly, fond memories breaking her heart.

"Yes, that's it. You've a good memory." Maddy says quietly, watching Jerome get to work. Thea had always made her coffee order, even when she wasn't on shift, but it shouldn't come as a surprise that Jerome has cottoned on so fast. Maddy is a creature of habit, she never orders anything else.

Instead of thanking her, he laughs and throws her a warm grin.

"I wish. Only one other person orders that drink and I made it for him about five minutes ago." He says, glancing to her right.

Maddy turns too, spotting her stranger sat at their table. He's holding his drink in both hands, making the cup look almost comically small, and she can see the sprinkling of cinnamon on top from here.

If she closes her eyes, she could almost fool herself that she smells it.

But she doesn't, because her eyes are fixated on something else instead.

In front of the third chair, the one where neither of them sits, is a small green cup. A flat white, ready to go cold. The sight leaves her feeling bereft and cold and breathless all at once, and she's not sure what to make of it.

"Your coffee."

Jerome's soft words startle her, despite being barely above a whisper. Maddy's eyes are prickling but she nods, tapping her card before picking up her cup.

It's warm and solid in her hands, and the smell is so comforting, that it helps to ground her. She takes a deep breath as she navigates towards the table.

The third coffee should be a sign that she's welcome back, but still she hesitates by her chair. This time, her stranger looks up with an expectant glance, as though asking where she's been.

He nods, a small movement, and she sinks into her chair. Her gaze flickers towards the third coffee again, and she bites her lip, her eyes stinging painfully. She isn't sure if she's happy that he's bought it, or if she feels as though she's lost something.

She sits frozen, contemplating, until she comes to the conclusion that it's a simple sign of kindness. It's a welcome back, an understanding between two strangers. It's something more, rather than something lost. She feels her body relax in her chair, and as she glances at the stranger, she finds him already looking.

His expression is impossible to read, but when Maddy provides a wobbly smile in thanks, he smiles back. It's just a hint of one, but it's enough.

She isn't sure why he's decided to entertain her madness, but he isn't questioning it.

So, she leans back in her chair and takes a sip of her drink. As she closes her eyes, she lets the scent do the work of a million photographs, drawing back memories that were all but lost to her. She nearly drowns in a sea of comfort and loss and bittersweet yesterdays.

The warmth of her coffee cup is sharp against her hands though. The taste of coffee bitter on her tongue. The weight of the books in her tote bag sits heavy on her lap and the buzz of gentle chitter chatter drifts through the air like music.

All of it is real. She can feel all of it, and for the first time in a week, she feels secure once more. Time may have stopped, her world all but halted, but here she can feel the way back. A life ring in a stormy, turbulent sea. She can reach out and touch it once more, and that gives her hope for tomorrow. 

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