Chapter Eight
Stopping in front of the coffee shop, I exited my car and quickly made for the door. I brushed my shoulder with a strange, suited man who was wearing a thick frown on his face. He got into the car parked in front of mine, but I didn’t pay further attention to him.
The sun at noon illuminated the room with a warm glow, and the scent of freshly ground coffee wafted through the air. The shop was not empty of people. There were a number of them scattered about in the wide space.
I headed directly for the barista’s counter. Clara’s face stood out in her chartreuse blouse and ponytail, but she looked anxious. I wondered what was bothering her.
“Hey!”
“Hey.” She replied softly, wiping the counter with a towel.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, no.” She responded, but her expression betrayed her.
“Are you sure about that?”
She nodded.
“Well, I thought of you and decided to drop by.” I hoped I didn’t sound clingy.
“Thanks.” She said curtly.
It bothered me a great deal to get such an unpleasant tone of response from her. Since the day I apologized, I had dared to imagine how beautifully we would get along, but it was all seeming, indeed, like an illusion now.
Anyway, I was not going to give up so easily. I was going to try everything I could for us.
“How’s your day going? And business?”
I looked around; there were one or two people left in the room. Fair enough.
“Pretty good.”
“And how are you?”
She looked briefly at me, her uneasiness drawn like a tattoo on her face.
“Good.” She didn’t appear to be in a good mood, but I didn’t want to press it any further.
I swallowed as she turned away to change the damp towel.
“Can I help you with anything? I can do anything you want.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve got everything under control.” She refused my help, and it hurt me. I couldn’t just stand there, looking idle. I had to find something that would keep me busy.
“I’ll wipe the counter!” I grabbed the new towel from her and began wiping with unmeasured tenacity. She stared at me in amazement.
“Jacob? I told you it’s fine. This is not necessary,” she protested.
“It’s not fine with me.”
“But I do not appreciate it,” she made an overtaxed face.
Slowly, my tenacity decreased, and I looked up at her.
“Could you please tell me what’s going on with you? I’m more than willing to listen.”
“Jacob, please, nothing is the matter. I am good, I do not want to have to...”
I went around the counter to stand close to her. Her lips tightened immediately, and her breath grew shallow.
“What’s going on? It’s okay to take it all out on me.”
“Do you know a man by the name Joe Griffin?” She asked, reluctantly.
“Joe Griffin?”
“Yeah. Do you know who he is?” Her eyes widened with curiosity.
“Yeah, sort of; we’ve met before. He is the CEO of Custom Builders, a construction company. Some social gatherings bring us together, and I’ve had a one-on-one conversation with him once. He’s got quite a reputation. Why do you ask, though?”
She was staring at me, as if to say, “Tell me more.”
“Well, it’s nothing. I- I saw him on the news. Yeah,” she stuttered.
I nodded.
“I have heard he’s quite a cunning man who loves to have his way. He appears frequently in the news, and there are several articles about him.” I continued.
“Hm.” She nodded, but I could still sense that she was not totally fine.
Suddenly, a redhead appeared behind us. She was young and had a strange look on her face.
“Oh, that’s Tina.” Clara would later introduce her to me.
“It’s nice to meet you,” the girl said.
“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Jacob.” I said just as an elderly customer walked in.
Clara moved aside to attend to the woman. She seemed to still be very much bothered even while she tried to act like nothing was out of place when speaking with the woman.
Looking closely at her, I was reminded of a particular time when she was so nervous about a party. She couldn’t get her hair to look exactly the way she had seen it on YouTube, and she was really sad-mad. Cuddling her had been like cradling a child. It helped me as much as it soothed her, and she was relieved of every anxiety that day.
Now, I wish I could wrap my arms around her and reassure her that it was all going to be fine. But I couldn’t, I dared not, perhaps. I had long since lost the privilege.
“Are you sure you are good?” I went to her when the woman had left satisfactorily with her cup of coffee.
“Yeah, yeah.” It was all that came from her.
“Right! I want to assist you with work.”
“I can’t possibly allow that,” she looked amazed.
“I insist. I’m just going to help you with things, you know, it’s not a big deal.”
She briefly looked at me, doubt filling her eyes.
“No.”
“But I cannot sit around and do nothing. I’ll clean the cups.”
“Do you not have any personal work to do?” She asked, dubiously.
Of course, I had, but I couldn’t tell her, or I would be forced out of the shop in a minute.
“Nah.” I lied.
“Still.”
“Oh, Clara, just get me an apron already.”
Reluctantly, she fetched me an apron, and soon, I found being a barista’s assistant very interesting. I could further deduce that most residents of Sunnyvale were quite alluring. They often smiled, they were cheerful in the conversations, and they were polite, too. I received far more tips than I thought I would as an assistant. It’s a stark contrast to the high-stakes corporate world I’m used to, with its towering offices and polished facades.
The look on Clara’s face at the end of the day’s work convinced me that I had done well, though she didn’t mention anything close to it.
“Shall I resign and settle down working with you?” I jokingly asked, watching her serve Americano to one of the customers she was acquainted with.
She looked suspiciously at me and said, “Thank you, but I’m good on my own.”
I nodded.
“I appreciate your help today.” She added unexpectedly.
“It’s my pleasure.” I was, at least, glad about that. I took off my apron and kept it away.
“It’s time to close for the day.” She said this when I returned from the bathroom. It was apparent she had cleared everything that needed to be removed and she was prepared to leave.
“I’ll drive you home.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Clara,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I couldn’t possibly leave you behind when we are neighbors. It’s not a big deal.”
She was quiet for a moment, reflecting.
“It’s not a big deal,” she repeated softly, grabbing her purse.
All through the ride, she said nothing, and I didn’t initiate a conversation either. Sometimes it was best to enjoy the silence. However, I was uncomfortable thinking she might be bothered about something she did not want me to know. I had lost the right, I knew, but then I could not just bring myself to watch her suffer in silence.
Despite my feelings, I did not want to push it. I did not want a situation where I would bruise her sensitivity again.
Glancing at her, I wanted my eyes to linger on the lovely architecture of her face. I never got over her, I admit. The form of her eyes, her nose, and her lips were more than poetry. Her lips were full and lush, and her lower lip was slightly fuller than the upper, adding to her beauty. The innocence that could be spotted in her eyes, which made one madly attracted to her, was still very much alive.
I found myself wanting to reach out to her and draw her near. But-
There was always a ‘but’.
Clara Lisbon was no longer mine. I missed the days when I could boastfully say she was mine! No man dared to look at her when I was around. I can remember how jealously I had guarded her. She was an invaluable ‘possession’ I could barely share with anyone.
However, now she seemed so far away, so aloof like she wasn’t there at all. I felt remorseful for having been the cause of it. We could be married by now. We could have had at least two children. I could love her every day without hesitation.
When our houses came into view, she moved on her seat, and upon finally parking the car, she snapped out of her seat belt.
“Thank you for today.” She said and stepped down.
Without looking back, she took short strides out of my front yard. I got down and went after her. She was surprised to see me behind her.
“I want to walk you to your porch.” I hoped that was excuse enough. She didn’t say anything, and we reached her porch in the blink of an eye, she was prepared to see me leave before she entered the house.
“Is anything the problem?” She queried when I still stood helplessly in front of her.
“Nah, I just-”
My palms grew wet.
It was all coming back again. I was sweating out my anxiety.
I moved closer to her. I had run after her for a reason, a reason that was now becoming clearer as I fixed my gaze on her lips.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Ah, I’m sorry, No.”
“It’s fine.” I was restless. “Could there be a next time?”
“I am not sure about that.” She was resolved.
I sighed.
“Clara, I, I-”
She was ready to listen to whatever I had to say, but really, I didn’t know what to say.
“I-” I blindly leaned over to touch her lips with mine, but she dodged it, and the kiss landed clumsily on her cheek.
“It’s not right with me, Jacob, that you think of doing that.” She said rather solemnly after a tense stare.
“I’m sorry.” I could feel my face burning.
She sighed.
“How many times do I have to hear you say that?” She frowned and walked inside.
I felt so stupid for being unable to control my emotions. She must now know that I have not gotten over her. I wondered if she would still permit me to be around her. I might have truly crossed the line now.
When I got home, I dialed Daisy on FaceTime and told her what had just transpired between Clara and me.
“You tried to kiss her?” Daisy shrieked over FaceTime.
Daisy’s eyes went wild, and her mouth formed the perfect alphabet “O.” She was momentarily speechless. Her head was probably processing what she had just heard. It was so unexpected that she didn’t know how to react. Her face froze in a look of astonishment before time thawed it and gave her the liberty to go beyond just staring.
I was beginning to regret telling her about it. I had only told her to ask for advice on how to rectify my mistake in the first place. Now, she was taking advantage of it to chide me.
“How could you do that, brother? I advised you not to do anything that would bruise her sensitivity. I told you to be careful in your approach, but what did you do? You tried to kiss her! Really?” She grimaced.
“Daisy.”
“To think of it, why would you want to do that? You told me you just wanted to remedy your past mistakes. You never told me you had not gotten over her, and you were still in love with her. Did you have to hide under the pretext of making amends and suing for peace just to get close to her again?”
“I guess so.”
“What? You guess so?” Now, you sound so vain!” She scoffed.
“What do I do now?” I asked, not interested in her lectures. I knew I was wrong!
But I couldn’t shout at her. I was too weak to raise my voice. I’d take whatever came my way. I deserved it.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, one thing I know is that you might have to put in more effort at regaining her trust.” She said knowingly.
“Yeah, I know that.”
She grew quiet for a while.
“How did she react? Was she mad?”
I couldn’t say. I had been too embarrassed to decipher her mood.
“But she sounded really low.”
A pang of guilt rushed through me. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had gone wrong, the mistake I had made. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the thoughts that threatened to consume whatever hope I had of me and Clara being together again.
“Take it slowly. I don’t know if it’s wise to make passes at her during this period. It’s the period when you should allow your bud of reconciliation to grow into full friendship,” Daisy opined.
“You must not let your desires control you, or else it will be catastrophic,” she added.
I sighed. I agreed.
“Thanks a lot, Daisy, I appreciate you.”
“Yeah.”
She suddenly chuckled.
“I can’t believe you are still in love with Clara Lisbon after all these years!” She mocked.
“I can’t believe it myself too.” I concurred.
“I wonder if she still feels the same.”
How much I wish I knew how she felt.
“I’ll come down to Sunnyvale as soon as I get the chance. “ She changed the topic.
“Good.”
“I am not exactly coming for you, though,” she said.
“I spoke with Clara about a week ago, and we’ve been in touch since then.” She added.
“Oh really?”
“We didn’t talk about you. She didn’t say anything about you being in Sunnyvale.”
I sighed just as Jackson’s call came through.
“Can I put you on hold for a minute? I’m getting a call from Jackson.”
“Oh, sure!”
I answered Jackson’s call. He called to remind me of a meeting I had ordered to be rescheduled earlier today.
“How is Jackson?” Daisy asked when I returned to the video call.
“He’s good.”
“Hmm.” She knowingly nodded.
“Yeah.”
“I think I have to go now. My shooting starts in,” she glanced at her wrist. “Five minutes.”
“Sure.”
“Ah, lest I forget, Mom asked me to tell you to give her a call.”
“Alright.”