An Alchemist’s Love

First Class

Genavie sat by the cafe window, her foot tapping anxiously as she kept checking her watch. She was at her favourite little cafe in town. The cafe was run by an older couple, Betty and Ron, who ran the place more like a library then a restaurant. The place was made out of office furniture that was repurposed as lounge furniture, the walls were lined with metal book shelves crammed with Knick knacks and magazines. There were paintings on the shelves and walls, and heavy curtains by the windows, and on walls without windows. There was also an excessive amount of throw pillows. None matching. Betty and Ron didn't care if you bought one coffee and stayed the entire day, in fact, the longer you stayed the more likely they would come over and sit with you. Genavie had witnessed this on multiple occasions - Betty would meander over to a new client after they had been seated for around two hours. The customers would normally look affronted as she approached, expecting the usual "excuse me but would you need anything else today?" (which we all know is code for, can you please leave), but Betty would instead ask if she could sit with them. It was hard to say no, because she was the embodiment of an adorable granny. With age, her stature had shrunk to 5'5" with a slight hunch to her shoulders. She wore cardigans with the most colourful pastel patterns imaginable, in fact, Claire had been to the cafe a couple times and drew inspiration from Betty for her fashion designs. Betty had spent many years in the United States, immigrating in her early twenties, but she never lost her warm hearty Filipino accent. She had sun kissed skin, and wrinkles that creased her face around the eyes and the mouth. Wrinkles that showed laughter and constant smiling. Her gait was more like a waddle, as she had difficulty with her hips, but when as she swayed back and forth, it looked more like a small dance.

Betty would always start by making strong eye contact with the guest, and giving her biggest smile. "May I sit?" The client would wearily nod. Betty would place both hands on the table and slowly guide herself up onto an available chair. "Can I tell you a story?" Betty would ask, and then begin without waiting for a response.

"Ron and I used to run a travel agency here. A small one, a decent one. Nothing fancy, some trips for Americans to go to the Philippines. When clients came, I would serve coffee and isnāck. Home made, you know! We never became big like those big brands, but we started to have repeat customers. Not really customers," she would giggle, "more like pabigāts, umm, free loaders! Yes free loaders!" Her giggles would erupt into a full body laugh. "Ahhh, but we can not help but love them. So everyday I made them isnacks." By this time, Ron would have walked over with a little cup of coffee for Betty. Like well oiled clock work, their love moved in perfect and constant unison. "These customers never bought a trip with us, they were just coming for our snacks, and coffee! And they would sit and tell us stories. Anyways, 5 years ago we went back to Manila to retire. But I love New York. I love everything it has to offer. Ron I must go back, I said, with or without you! I had to come back! Of course Ron came." She would smile to herself, "When we got back I messaged all those free loaders and told them to come for a coffee and snacks. It was so lovely, so we decided to reopen our little shop, but this time as a cafe - not a travel agency." Betty would then take a big gulp of coffee. "Anyways liyág (darling)", she would say smiling at the client, "I just want to come say hello and enjoy! Enjoy and take your time. You can call me Lola Betty." Betty would take another sip of the coffee before scooting off the chair, her feet making a padded thud as her feet hit the floor. Then she would pat the clients arm and get back to work.

Genavie would have normally been reading a book or chatting with Ron, but today she was too nervous to do either. She had bailed on Flyn twice before, so this time, she decided to come early. She had come around an hour early with the intention of reading some poetry and eating the cafes notorious bibingka (coconut cake) with a latte, but the moment she arrived she started spiralling.

"Damn, I am going to look so dumb coming here an hour early. What if he is late or even worse, what if he doesn't show up as some revenge plot?" She knew that these were silly reasons, and was bewildered by the childish reaction she was having. She imagined sitting across from Flyn, and blushed slightly. How would the sun hit his eyes? Would they turn from brown to hazel or honey? Would he be impressed by her knowledge and give her an approving shoulder pat? She cringed at her own day dreaming at the exact moment that Flyn entered. She couldn't believe how she had reverted from her usual unphased self to a baffoon.

Flyn was standing across the street waiting for a break in the cars. At the middle of an unassuming street was a little shop that could have been any generic store. It had red awnings above the windows and entrance, with red and gold letters on the glass door that read "Free Loader Cafe" in beautiful cursive. Framed in the sunlight, looking like a deer in headlights, was Genavie. On the table he could make out a half eaten white cake and a coffee. She looked harmless and oblivious to her surroundings. When he managed to cross the road and enter the cafe, he was greeted by Genavie scrunching up her face in the most repulsed cringe he had seen in years (if not, his lifetime). He couldn't help but be offended.

"Well, good to see you as well Genavie." Flyn said sharply.

"Oh!" She exclaimed as if startled "I didn't realise it was you." She said, not realising that Flyn had mistaken her cringe as a reaction to his arrival.

"I mean, you saw me come in..."

"What? I mean, I see you now. Whatever." She said dismissively, trying to make sense of why he was already in such a pissy mood.

Flyn took a deep breath and placed his backpack in the seat across from her. "I'm going to get a coffee. You want anything else?"

"A glass of water would be great, the cake is to die for, but a bit sweet." She replied.

Flyn was not normally this sensitive, but every thing related to Genavie seemed to push his buttons. He looked back over at her while he waited for his order, and she waved at him with a bright smile, before hesitating and then abruptly turning to look out the window. His step brother's one word echoed in his mind, "eccentric".

Flyn ordered a black coffee and a lemon tart, which was prepared quickly by an old man with very small round glasses. He was slim and wore a sweater vest on top of a startched dress shirt that were neatly tucked into khaki pants. He worked with expert nimbleness that reflected years of practice.

When Flyn returned to the table, Genavie had taken out an iPad and a pair of blue light glasses. He sat down and took a sip of the coffee and was stunned by how aromatic it was. He then reached into his bag and pulled out a thick textbook and a notebook that was battered from repeated use. He flipped his notebook to an earmarked page and turned it towards Genavie.

"Alright, so I think we can start here." He tapped at an equation on the page, "it's a bit tough, try to work through it then let me know if you have any questions."

"Alright." She replied distractedly as she was already wrapped up in the equation.

He watched as she bit her lower lip, brushing back strands of her hair that constantly fell across her face as she fervently wrote and rewrote parts of the fromula. When she would reach a tough part, she would lean in closer to the page, pause, then sit upright and stretch her neck in opposing directions. Then she would lean in again and try an alternative approach. After around 20 minutes she looked up at him triumphantly.

"Got it!"

Flyn was impressed, he had cheekily chosen a more complicated question to see how well she could navigate contradicting variables. He leaned across the table to get a better look at her iPad, his face now around 30 cm from Genavie. She faltered slightly, backing up and turning the IPad around so Flyn could read it easily.

"Not bad!" He mumbled, reviewing her work. Some parts were messily worked out but she had arrived at the correct answer. He grinned at her and said "I think I underestimated you, we might actually have some fun with these classes."