Cappuccino(Dill McLain) CAPPUCCINO
by Dill McLain


She leaned back, lifted her cup and looked forward to the great delight of the first sip of cappuccino. Just before taking this long-awaited sip, she became thunderstruck. The cup slipped from her hand, flew over the table and the hot coffee spilled over the right trouser leg of a tall man in front of her table.

“Holy God, what is this, a new way of making friends?” the man asked and turned around. Edith sat there and just stared at him. She could not talk.

The man touched his coffee wet trouser leg and said, “I do not know whether this was just your way of approaching men in general, but sorry for being so direct, you could be my grandmother, so it must be something else that struck you!”

In the meantime, Edith opened her handbag, not taking her eyes from the man. Her fingers searched for money inside the bag and, finally, she found a banknote as well as her voice, “Young man, I am very sorry for what has happened, I have no intention to make advances to you, not at all, please take this money for the cleaning of your trousers!” She handed him a 100er banknote and said, “Please sit down and don’t make a fuss.” He sat down opposite her while she ordered two cups of cappuccino. The waiter nodded and cleaned the remains of the coffeethrow.

They did not talk until the two cups arrived. Then Edith said, “My name is Edith. I am 75 and a widow for, 7 years. When you came along and appeared in front of my eyes, I thought my first great love reappears. It was like being put back 50 years. Same hairstyle, same movements and also a remarkably similar profile. I was struck by lightning. And I thought that I must find him!”

They shook hands and the young man stated sighingly, “Well, my name is Mirko, I am 36, I studied Informatics, lost my job because I did not want to work night shifts and there were some other aspects I did not like. I also paint – it is my great hobby, and I need the nights for that. So I am-sort of between two chairs. I work part-time in the art gallery around the corner, where they also give me the chance to present some of my work. Three half-days a week, I work with disabled teenagers in the field of Informatics.”

He moved the banknote over the table and uttered, “I cannot accept this, I will wash my trousers tonight, that will do it. And please, I apologize for calling you grandmother. I was a bit stressed. It’s a compliment really because you also look like my grandmother, whom I loved very much.”

After a deep sip of cappuccino, he added, “And where is this great former love living now?”

Edith also took a large sip of cappuccino, paused a moment and then said with a certain light in her eyes, “I do not know at all, I lost his trace many years ago, but it is in these last years as a widow, when I repeatedly thought about Curt and what he might do, where he might be, etc. When you appeared, I immediately thought that I really must try to find him.”

Mirko leaned over the table, “O.K., then why do you not start the search. This is not a real problem nowadays. The net helps a lot.”

“Which net, what do you mean that I should go fishing?”
“The Internet.”
“Aha, and you think this Internet knows where Curt is?”
“The Internet does not really know where he is, but will help to find him.”
“You tell me that the Internet could help to find him, do you really mean it?”
“Of course, Madam!”
“Please, call me Edith!”
She moved closer to the table and put her elbows upon it.
“To tell you the naked truth, I never cared about all these electronic things, and I do not have a computer. But please tell me what I need to install this Internet etc.”

She asked Mirko to make a precise list. The fire in her eyes became stronger as he explained the possibilities and Mirko started rather amusedly to list the things needed. After he finished, Edith thanked him and said, “I will arrange for all this and then you will teach me to use this modern stuff this ‘laptop’. I will pay you, of course. Now, I must go. I have a lot to do. Goodbye.”

She left in a hurry and Mirko sat there with a frown.

Four hours later, Edith sat on the sofa in her sitting room. She sat upright and stared at the picture in her hands. The image from 50 years ago showed a tall man with very dense, half long hair and blue eyes in a well-formed and friendly face. Her heart jumped a bit. Then a bit more.

They were engaged for over two years, then he told her about his plan to establish a sailing school in Australia. After finishing commercial school, he only intended to work for a couple of years to save enough money to realize his dream. When the day came to take the decision, Edith was not ready to leave for such a distant place. He left alone. And then they lost sight of each other.

Edith was over 35 when she married a much older man, who worked as Management Consultant. They did not have children, led a calm life and formed an ideal team. Her husband died two years after beginning his pension. Since then, Edith lived alone. She refused several approaches by quite interesting men. She had a group of friends with whom she shared common interests.

About two or three times in the past years, she thought about Curt. But probably he was happily married, and she would only disturb. Furthermore, she did not know how to find him. She could not remember to which coast in Australia he had planned to go. Therefore, she pushed the thought away.

On Thursday morning, she usually went for a long stroll along the lake. And her walk always ended with a cappuccino in the same bistro. When on this morning that man appeared right when she was about to take the first delightful sip – that man who looked like Curt – she knew immediately that she had to find him.

Friday morning:
Mirko sat on a stool in the gallery and thought about his situation. Although he worked three afternoons as a teacher in the Informatics program for disabled people, it was not actually enough to live. He needed something else. But what? The rest of the time he painted, and he was very fortunate to present some of his works together with four other artists in this gallery. However, it was very hard to sell any works, and one could not count on a regular income as an unknown artist. He lived with his girlfriend in a tiny flat. She was a violin player and member of a chamber music trio which was often on tour. It was time to ask her to marry him, but he felt embarrassed to do so as long as his income was not better. Mirko sighed and moved his shoulders up and down. Yes, he should really ask her.

The old doorbell at the entrance to the gallery pulled him out of his romantic thoughts. Edith staggered into the hall carrying two huge bags. “Holy God, not now”, he murmured. Before he sufficiently collected himself, the two huge bags were parked left and right of his stool. “Young man, a lot of work is coming up for you”, Edith stated full of a smile but lightly out of breath. He was somewhat bewildered with a tendency to getting nervous. “Ahm, I have to work here and guard the gallery the whole day; I am sorry, I cannot help you at the moment.”

She blew her nose and continued, “Young man, I know that. Here is my key, here is my address”, and placed a key and a card on the wooden desk. “And here is money for a taxi. You take the two bags, in one is food, in the other is all the stuff from the computer shop. At 2.00 p.m. the electrician comes and at 2.30 the agent from the cable company to install the e-mail-package and Internet I need. I will guard the gallery, and you will, in the meantime, install everything necessary. I have already set up a table in my sitting room. After closing here, I will come and cook a light dinner, and then we start searching the Internet. You will teach me. Off we go!”

This grandma was a bit too pushy for Mirko, and he took a deep breath getting ready for defence. No chance, he remembered his own grandmother. Edith already jumped across the room and asked, “Which ones are your works?” Instead of his defence speech, he said with half loud voice, “The large ones with heads of musicians in crowns of trees.”

“They are fabulous! This one must be Beethoven. You should increase the prices!”

Mirko felt pride climbing up his ribs. Why not do it. He jumped from his seat, showed her the necessary items and left the gallery.

At 8.00 p.m., they sat in her sitting room, enjoying Caesar’s Salad and a delicious chicken Maharaja. He felt great. Edith had sold two of his pictures. Apparently, a group of Chinese tourists had come along, and she encouraged them into the gallery and showed them his pictures. They paid cash. And the guide got instructed by Edith to come with other groups. This grandma seemed to have uplifting organisational talents.

They started with the work. Mirko prepared three sheets with instructions how to start the electronic notebook, how to switch it off, how to search on the Internet, how to print out pages and finally how to write an e-mail-message as well as how to read a received message. Edith was obviously not very interested in the latter one, but could hardly wait to start with the great search.

“O.K., what is the family name of your Curt?” She seemed embarrassed and moved backwards and forwards on her chair. “Could we rehearse with another name?” Mirko tried it then with ‘Beethoven’ and explained the various steps and what the results meant. She seemed very excited. Then they tried it with ‘sailing school Perth’. And finally, they wrote an e-mail-message as a test to Mirko’s address. At midnight he left, and they arranged for a meeting on Monday. He gave her his phone number for the case that she would get stuck.

Monday:
Mirko arrived at Edith’s apartment at 11.00 a.m. and found her in the middle of hundreds of sheets of paper spread all over the carpet. All full of addresses of sailing schools in Australia and the rest of the Pacific. Edith just started with Hawaii. She seemed to have searched without interruption on Saturday and also on Sunday. Remains of quickly eaten food were distributed on the salon table and surrounded by printouts.

Edith sighed, “So far I could not find anything with his name. Maybe he is not alive anymore. Maybe it all is just a great dream!”

Mirko sat down, scratched his head and then asked, “Would you now be so kind and indicate me his name and thus enabling me to help to search?”
“His name is Curt Bergström”, she murmured tenderly.

“O.K., Curt Bergström, we are coming!” Mirko pronounced to the sitting room.

Edith turned her head and smiled – she looked so full of hope – and said, “By the way, there is more work for you. Seven old ladies – all my friends – wait to be taught regarding e-mail and the Internet. I have already fixed a price for you to install their computers and we will take shifts in the art gallery. And I am sure that some of their husbands will also want to join the sessions.”

Mirko was speechless. He had to work in the afternoon in the children’s classes, but he promised to help with searching the Internet and think about some more ideas for possible links.

Tuesday:
Edith came at 11.30 in the morning to the gallery. There were no results so far. No sign of Curt Bergström. In the meantime, she extended her search to the sailing schools in the Mediterranean area starting in the Greek Islands. They went to drink a cappuccino, and then Edith decided to go for a walk before continuing her odyssey on the net. She surfed all night long on the Internet and finally fell disappointed into sleep.

Wednesday:
She called Mirko and expressed doubts about the whole project. However, she wanted to continue by all means.

Thursday morning:
The phone rang at 7.30 a.m. “I found him, Mr. Bergström ahoi!” It was Mirko’s voice. Edith was speechless and unlocked the door. Half an hour later, Mirko arrived. Edith sat on the sofa, upright, the picture of Curt Bergström in her hands.
“Where is he?” she asked anxiously. “Well, here we go: Thin-Bergström diving school in Mergui Archipelago, Burma!”
“And who is Thin?” Edith whispered. “His daughter. She runs the school. Her mother died when she was 7. Curt is a widower. I played detective a bit and found that all out for you. Here is his e-mail-address. We are now drinking a nice cup of coffee, and then we are sending him an e-mail-message!”

Edith remained seated on the sofa where she did not move. Mirko went to the kitchen to prepare the coffee. He sang an aria from one of the famous Verdi operas. When he came with the coffee, Edith sat in front of her electronic notebook and said, “And what should I write, maybe he does not want to meet me at all.”
“He’d be a real fool. Of course, he wants to meet you! Do you think we went through all of this madness just to change our mind?”

Edith wrote: ‘Hello Curt. I tried since last Saturday to find you all over the world. How are you? Can we meet? Looking forward to hearing from you. Edith.’

She asked Mirko to press the button ‘send’. She was too excited. Mirko added her precise address with phone number and sent the message. Then the two sighed in unison in front of the notebook.

“Can I leave you alone now? Mary is coming back from her tour, and we would like to spend two days in the mountains. We will be back Saturday night.”

“O.K., I have an awful lot to do now. I must clean up the flat. Then rearrange the furniture and wash all curtains. I must go to the hairdresser, and I need some new clothes. I will also check travel arrangements to Merguy. You see, I have a lot to do for the next couple of weeks.”

Mirko stood there and looked at the charming old lady who now seemed 20 years younger. “Do not forget to buy a new sexy nightdress!” he threw over his shoulder and left with a smile on his face. Her face reddened.

Saturday:
Edith opened her cupboard and started to search in all corners. Finally, she found what she was looking for: black stockings with embroidery and a suspender belt. She sighed and decided to try them on. After all these years it took some time to get it all in the right position. She placed herself in front of the mirror and smiled. She turned around and said to herself, “Well, the ideal thing is that it all covers up the traces of age!” She slipped into her new black silk blouse with ruffles and found it all very lovely. In any event, she was equipped and ready for whatever would come up. She posed and whispered, smiling, “What would he think, seeing me now like this?”

The doorbell rang. Edith did not expect anyone. The doorbell rang again. She rushed to the door and looked through the spyhole in the door. She saw something like flowers. “My goodness, he sent me my flowers!” she whispered. She could recognize small beautiful orchid blossoms.

Her heart jumped. A heatwave flushed through her body up to her cheeks. She totally forgot about her outfit and hastily turned the key and opened the door.

“Hallo Edith, wow, I like your outfit!”

She stood there with wide-open eyes, her glasses in hand and stared at the tall older man carrying an enormous bouquet of orchids. He was Curt Bergström.

“Oh, you are here, I almost can’t believe it”, she stammered, trying to press her knees together and covering up the patches of skin above her black stockings.

“I sent you an e-mail-reply”, he said patiently.

She turned around and rushed in direction of her sitting room and sank into the chair in front of her electronic notebook. Curt Bergström entered, closed the door and placed the orchids on the table. Then he stepped behind Edith, reached over her shoulder and pressed a key on the notebook. It took a while. He opened the incoming mail-file, and there was one single message, which read: ‘Hallo Edith, I am already underway.’

She stood up and sank into his arms.

They married three months later and established an Internet-corner for pensioned people in the large back room of the art gallery where Mirko worked, and Mary’s trio now played music once in a while.

Mirko smiled and thought, ‘How much more complete life is when we younger work together with the older neighbours.’

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