Reason to Celebrate by RodG The Neglected #300 Contest writing prompt entry |
"You're late, Allen, and I'm buying," Mike said as I entered Carlotta's Latte and joined him at the counter. "Your usual bran muffin and small mocha java?"
Grinning, I nodded. He knew me well. Moments later we joined our long-time cronies Cal and Pete at our usual square table by the wall. Carlotta, the proprietress, hovered over Pete's shoulder, squealing a torrent of words I couldn't understand. But I'm hearing impaired, and she's a fiery Latina who still hasn't lost her accent. The tiny place has been a legend in the neighborhood and our second home almost two decades. For five years since she took over she's talked about renovating, but the only thing new is the expresso machine. She claims to have bought a new oven, but none of us have seen it. Though she bakes during the wee hours every day, she's always behind the counter when we arrive. "I tired," she shrieked, "but need loan for roof. It leaks (she pointed to the ancient tin ceiling) and restroom need everything--sink, toilet--how you say 'update'? Four banks I go to after I close yesterday. None friendly. All say I want too much." "But--" laughed Mike, "--that call just now's got you dancing." A big smile lit up her round face. "Si! Oakdale Bank call me! Say come back. Today!" Suddenly, she ran back to her kitchen, reappearing with a plate of steaming carrot-cake muffins. "Celebrate!" she shouted. An hour later Mike and I left together. "Nice thing you did," I said. "The coffee?" "No, the loan." He gawked. "H-how'd you know?" "Buying our coffee, you pulled cash from an OB envelope. And I've known you forever. Think I've forgotten who's the loan officer there?" "My son-in-law." "Protecting our happy home?" "Yep."
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