The Usual
Maya saw Pete come through the door with his umbrella still up. She reached for a cup.
“Morning, Pete. The usual?” “Actually, no. Something different today. What do you recommend?”
Maya paused. Five years—the same black coffee and blueberry muffin, every morning.
“Really?” She smiled. “The pour-over is great today. And we just got these croissants from Sunset Park.”
“Perfect. I'll try both.”
She made his pour-over slowly and placed a warm croissant on a plate. Before she set it down, she had to ask.
“So what's the occasion?”
Pete looked at his coffee. “My daughter called last night. She's getting married.”
“That's wonderful!” Maya said.
“Yeah.” Pete smiled in a way Maya had never seen. “She asked me to change. She said I always order the same thing. She said life is too short.” He bit the croissant. “I think she's right.”
Maya wiped the counter and said nothing, but she was smiling too. When Pete left, he left the biggest tip she'd ever seen.