Just a Cup of Coffee?

He was dressed in black from head to toe, including a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. A short man of just over five feet, six inches tall, he sat quietly on a mall bench, staring at his cell phone. To Marie, the slender woman who noticed him as she walked by, he was a portrait of loneliness.

Marie was heading to the Williams Sonoma store to return a set of dishes she had bought for a party that was cancelled unexpectedly. As she walked down the mall’s corridor, passing the candle shop, the dress shop and the tennis shoe place, she couldn’t get that lonely man, that wanna-be Clint Black, out of her mind. She knew well what it was to be lonely. Since her husband of 35 years passed not quite a year ago, she fully grasped the pain of long mornings and afternoons with not enough to do, and evenings perched in front of her television doing exactly what the man in black was doing. Staring at her cell phone, hoping for a call. A text at least. 

She took care of business at Williams Sonoma. The staff there was always friendly, even if you were there to take your money back. Beth, the woman who helped her said, “Oh! I remember you. I sold you these dishes. You seemed to like them so much. What changed your mind?”

“I still like them. I planned a party for friends from out of town. They changed their plans at the last minute.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Beth said, adjusting her glasses and brushing back her light brown hair. “Are you sure you don’t want to hold onto them. I’m sure your friends will visit soon.”

“I’m sure.”

As she left the store, Marie decided to say something to the man she’d walked past, if he was still sitting in the same spot. She didn’t bother to think about what she might say. She felt that something would come to her in the moment. She walked through the mall, which had suddenly grown crowded. She couldn’t see the bench between all the shoppers strolling to the sounds of the mall’s easy listening tunes.

Only ten feet from the bench she finally saw him. He was getting up, slowly. He seemed to be looking in her direction. Now that he was standing, she was surprised to discover he seemed to be a bit shorter than she was. Never mind that, she thought. Her face flushed, but she persisted. She quickened her pace to be sure she didn’t miss her chance. When she reached him, just as he was taking his first step, she spoke. “Hi! Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?” Her voice and her words shocked her. It was so not her style.

The man looked at her. He noted she was an attractive woman, which immediately made him wonder if she was talking to him or to some taller, better-looking guy standing behind him. He also wondered if she might be crazy. “Are you talking to me?”

“I guess I am,” she said. Suddenly it dawned on her that she was wearing a black skirt and a midnight black blouse. “We might be twins!”

He laughed. “If we are, you sure got the better deal in the looks department, lady. Name’s Curt.”

“Hi Curt. I’m Marie. Do you drink coffee?”

“Only in the mornings, usually, but if you’re not selling something, I’d be pleased to make an exception.”

They walked to Starbucks and ordered coffee. He insisted on paying. They sat down and looked each other over while they took tentative sips. They made small talk for a while. It turned out he was a widower too. “I’ve been on my own seven years now,” he said.

“Do you ever get lonely?” she asked. “When I passed by you earlier, you seemed, well, sad.”

He smiled. “I don’t hate being alone. I play a little guitar with a bluegrass band at the Hayride downtown. Once in a while I see my grandkids.” He took a long swallow of his coffee.

“I really love bluegrass,” she said.

Missing an obvious cue, he asked, “Did you work, I mean, have a career?”

“I did. We lived in Orlando for years.” She offered a shy smile. “My late husband and I both worked at Disney World. I managed their cruise line, and my husband worked in human resources.”

He cocked his head sideways. “What brought you to Nashville? Why would you ever give up that gig?”

“I didn’t. We got laid off. We came here kind of on a whim, I guess.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I drove a tractor trailer for a long time. Spent most of my life on the road.”

They chatted for a while after they drained their coffee. But aside from being widowed, common ground seemed elusive.

“Well, Marie, it was a pleasure to meet you. Maybe some night you can come to the Hayride and watch us play.”

“Maybe I will.”

Curt left and she ordered another cup of coffee. She hoped it would warm her up. She felt she had taken a step forward, being bold enough to approach Curt. Not that it mattered. He didn’t seem that interested. Was he really her type? Certainly, their backgrounds didn’t match. She would have realized that just by the way he was dressed. Had loneliness compromised her instincts? Or were the rules just different later in life? She inspected her black ensemble and smiled. She recalled her comment about being twins. “Am I being a bit judgmental?”

Ten minutes later, Curt walked back into Starbucks. “My lucky day, I hope. I’m glad you’re still here.” He hesitated. “Can I have your number? I’d like to see you again.”

She smiled. “Have another cup of coffee with me.”