Coffee Interrupted

A lump welled up in my throat as he slid into the booth and took a seat across the table from me.

“Coffee. Black.” He winked at the waitress as she strutted by, her skirt dancing in the air with the wiggle of her butt.

“You’re a hard man to find Joseph.”

I didn’t respond.

He shifted easily in his seat; a relaxed grin plastered deep in the stubble of his face. “This is a happy occasion Joseph, you should be smilin’. This be a celebration.”

“Screw you Tom, let’s just get this over with,” I said as the waitress returned with his coffee.

He leaned across the table, cradled the coffee cup in his hands and said, “Naw, I think we’ll take this slow. I been waitin’ a long time for this day, and I mean to savor it.” He leaned back and took a long, slow sip of his coffee.

Tom’s eyes grew double in size, and he darted under the table just as I heard the car crash through the front window of the diner. I jumped over the hood, which had stopped three feet from me, and climbed into the passenger seat.

“You’re late.”

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