I switched the TV off with a huff as I slid down my chair in despair. The nerve of those people. I looked at the green liquid that was now the legal drink accepted. I didn't even know if it was tea but they made them so distastefully green, I shuddered each time I looked at it.
I swivelled in my chair to face Dad. I think he had it worse between the two of us. He had owned a café at the heart of the city. And the government had it closed down without as much as compensation. The lack of compensation didn’t hurt Dad as much as closing down the Café he’d built with his heart alongside Mom, way before I was born. It was the only thing he had to remind him of her.
Fury swelled in my chest as I watched Dad toying with his cup of distasteful green liquid, fighting a tear and letting out a sorrowful sigh every forty-five seconds. I had to do something about it. Wipe away the grief that had become a part of him since the café was shut down.
“Dad,” I called out. “Let’s go on a walk.”
He hesitated a bit, using the opportunity to school his features into a semblance of serenity so I wouldn’t see his pain. That action made my heart squeeze more.
“No, dear. You do what you have to do. I’ll be alright here.”
“No, Dad,” I said firmly. “We’re going together….. Please.” He must have picked up the desperation in my last word and he nodded slowly, moving to the room to get dressed. There was no time to waste, I thought to myself.
Twenty minutes later and we were on the road. I guess there was an advantage of relocating to the countryside. The expanse of land and meadows gave the whole atmosphere a beautiful medieval look. And I could tell Dad was happy about it too as he soaked up the beauty of nature surrounding him like a sponge. He laughed when a wandering butterfly landed on his nose and remained still motioning me to take a picture before it drifted away. I smiled as he clutched his tummy in throes of laughter.
If only we had coffee to complete the ensemble.
Unknown to us, we had drifted very far into the woods in our nature walk and I whipped up my phone to check if we were lost. It was dead. Just my luck. As we kept walking, I saw smoke in the distance.
“Come on Dad. Let’s see where that leads to.”
We walked till we reached what looked like a garden house. It was beautiful and glowed with warmth and care. There was a lot of laughter emanating from the house and for a moment I thought it was a party. I exchanged looks with Dad as we knocked on the door. Twice.
I heard shushing as the inhabitants fell quiet and I wondered if we should just leave. Suddenly, the door opened slightly and the scowl on the face of a woman morphed into that of surprise and glee as she barrelled past me into the arms of Dad.
“Diego! It has been forever. How did you find your way here.”
Dad smiled so hard and hugged the woman back. Turning to me, he said “This is my friend from college, Cory. Cory, my daughter, Sienna.”
I warmed up to this woman who hugged me like I was a long-lost child. She quickly ushered us inside and we met about twenty pairs of warm eyes as they smiled at us. They all had cups in their hands and I gasped when I looked inside. Coffee.
Dad noticed this too and turned an astonished look to Cory who just smiled at us and sat us down at one of the tables. She went back inside and soon after came out with two steaming cups of coffee. The look in Dad’s eyes as he looked into the cup, had tears running down my cheeks. It had been so long. Too long. Around us, the others erupted in cheers and some even stood up to give Dad and I an encouraging pat on the back.
Ten minutes later while we settled drinking the aromatic coffee, Cory launched into the story of how she had been frustrated with the decree of the government and relocated here with a few of her friends. They had managed to snuggle in bags of coffee beans after their store had been raided. And had even managed to have a thriving coffee beans plantation at the back.
She had the place set up for true lovers of coffee to wind down and whispered that they were even planning a revolution against the government’s decree.
From there on it was merriment. We drank coffee with delicious pastries, listening to the never-ending funny stories of the others, and I could tell by the look on Dad’s face that he was well and truly home. He looked so alive that I promptly stood up to give him a warm hug. Surrounded by these kind people, I was positive that everything would be alright.
