Parking was always a pain. I knew this. Everyone knows this. And yet I didn’t plan for it. Couldn’t bring myself to leave 15 minutes earlier… Why? I had plenty of time this morning to scroll online and get pissed off at random strangers. I didn’t have time to shave because I was laughing at videos of panda bears falling off of things.
I’m here now. That’s what matters. I turn the car off three blocks away from the café. DING! A text from my sister reminding me to bring the rolls for tonight’s dinner with dad. I thumbs-up-emoji respond. I shut the door and hear a calendar reminder. I don’t even look at the phone because I know what tomorrow is. And then I do look at the phone because I need to know what time it is and whether I need to sprint these three blocks. I should. I won’t.
I speed walk as a compromise. I answer a call from a contractor I have been trying to reach for days and I text my sister back putting into writing that I know the exact type of rolls I am supposed to bring. Several notification sounds I don’t even recognize emerge from my pocket as I enter the cafe and scan the room for Angie. She’s my cousin and we start every new year off this way.
She waves from a cozy corner table in the back? It not our usual table but the place is packed today. An alarm on my phone starts chirping obnoxiously. People are actually staring amidst the hum of other noises. I fumble the phone out and turn off the alarm. As I pass a trash can, I’m tempted to just throw the thing in there.
Angie gives me a big hug and we sit down. She’s already ordered my favorite brew . She still looks after me like a surrogate mom. DING! “My sister,” I explain by way of apology to Angie. I set the phone to vibrate and don’t bother texting my sister back. We slip into familiar conversation as if a year hadn’t passed. It’s possible we saw each other as recently as eight months ago at an uncle’s memorial service, but it’s not like we got to hang out. She’s telling me something about a new job or a new dog, but my phone has almost vibrated itself off the edge of the table. I used my wrist to kind of bump it back in place as I reach for my coffee. I feel like I’m forgetting something. Why is my phone still vibrating? What if it’s an emergency… “Hey?” We make eye contact. She repeats a question, I must’ve missed. “What about you—how’s your job going?” I shrug my shoulders and just as I start to tell her about the promotion I missed a breakthrough call bursts through on my phone, a repeating chime that escalates in volume and frequency the longer it’s on. Dad’s ringtone. Piercing and shrill.
I stand up, snatch the phone off the table, and hurl it the full length of the café whereby it shatters the front window and clatters to the sidewalk. The place is suddenly silent except for the hiss of the espresso machine. The patrons turn in unison towards the window and then, in slow motion as if choreographed, their heads swivel 180 degrees in my direction. To stare at the crazed man standing post-throw. I picture steam coming off my head and my eyes blazing demonically.
“Hey?” Angie says.
I blink. Look down. I’m seated.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?”