In front of us was the counter, where a crowd of customers were ordering, paying for, and receiving various drinks. Through a large open doorway to the right was a room with scattered tables and chairs, and a sofa at each end. Out of maybe fifteen tables, only two were empty. Fin and I got in line at the counter, and I looked up at the blackboard hung near the ceiling. The Coffee Bug was written across the top, and various pastries, coffees, teas, and specials were written beneath the name in neat, cramped handwriting, with various colors of chalk.
Arbitrarily choosing a coffee from the list, I used the time we spent standing in line to look at everyone around me, carefully inspecting each male face to try and guess which one was Billy.
“Is he here?” I finally asked Fin, who as usual looked something between bemused and stoically calm.
“Not yet,” he said.
“You didn’t even look!” I accused him.
“Don’t need to,” he said. “I’ll know when he’s here, don’t worry. We’re not going to miss him.”
I fidgeted my way to the front of the line, paid for my coffee, and then got in the line to pick it up. By the time Fin and I had claimed what was now the last empty table in the other room, I was beginning to think that perhaps coffee was a bad idea, since I was already so jumpy.
“He’s here,” said Fin, seemingly out of the blue. I whirled around in my seat, but a hand on my shoulder pulled me back to a normal sitting position again.
“What?” I demanded, annoyed.
“He doesn’t like to stick out,” Fin explained. “Don’t make a big deal about it.”
I glared at him in frustration, but couldn’t really say anything. I had no idea who this guy was or what he was like, and I didn’t want to screw up the meeting. Gripping my paper coffee cup so hard I nearly squeezed the coffee out all over the table, I sat and stared determinedly at Fin while we waited for Billy to come sit with us. The minutes seemed to take years until finally Fin looked up and smiled at someone behind me.
“Hey man,” he said. “How’s it going?”
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