“I feel spring coming,” said, aptly named, April Summers.
“It’s barely the end of January,” replied her friend Penny, glancing quickly out of the frosted window-pane. Trees in April’s garden had a silver glow on them; even in summer, but more so with the rime on the branches, as they were now.
Don’t they start early?” April mused. Brave little finches and a robin, rested on the bare branches. They had finished their early morning songs some time ago. She stood transfixed, gazing at the bare bushes and trees.
“What do what?” asked Penny, who had looked away and was not paying much attention at that point.
“Little fluttery things?” Penny was in a facetious mood.
“I know, I know! It really is still winter but the bulbs are already above the ground. Soon there will be narcissus in bloom. How glorious they will look. I can’t wait.” April was in a very happy, if thoughtful, mood today.
“Look,” retorted Penny, “we really have to forget all this birds, bees, flowers nonsense and get to the job in hand. Several new things, may I say problems, have turned up and we need to sort them out PDQ!”
April moved away from the window. She shuffled along and started the coffee machine. Taking two mugs out of the cupboard she mumbled to herself, “These will do!” April felt a little agrieved that she had been pulled away from her Nature-filled thoughts.
Penny took note of the mugs and changed her mood. “Thanks. I didn’t have time this morning,” then turning around, she pointed towards the hallway. “Oh, I got some buns on the way over. In my bag by the front door.”
“I’ll get them,” said April, pleased that Penny was a bit more like her usual self now. They seldom disagreed, and she thought this might be the morning, but it seemed her bad mood had dissipated.
April took the cake box out of Penny’s bag and placed it on the kitchen table, close to the mugs. She did not open it, leaving that to Penny. She bought them after all.
By this time, the machine had finished grinding. A pungent aroma of strong coffee pervaded the room. She breathed it in. The first scent from a newly opened bag of beans was like the first breath of life.
April started making a mug for Penny. The coffee she bought yesterday had a wonderful aroma. “Sugar today, or sweetener,” she asked.
“Sweetener, I think! Started on my diet. Need to lose the Holiday pounds, or should that be kilos?” Penny laughed.
April rummaged in a drawer for packets of ‘sugar free’, extras from the coffee shop they had tried the other day. Dumping them in the middle of the table, she went back to the machine and made her own mug.
“Isn’t a hot cup of morning coffee in winter, so cosy?” April asked.
“Mmm!” Was the only reply.
They sat enjoying a bun and the hot rich beverage. It certainly made a change from ‘on the run’ drinks as they rushed to work. How long ago was it now? Less than two weeks! Seemed like a lifetime away.
Indeed, starting your own business, had a lot going for it. Yes, it was frantic, getting everything going, working late. But these ‘no rush’ drinks were great! Restored the mind.
“I’ve had a few new ideas,” stated Penny. “The weekend certainly concentrates the mind, especially when the Rugby club turns up on the doorstep. I simply could not wait to get Alan, Jeff and Terry out of the house for a few hours so I could think straight. And, one more coffee, I think, then down to business. I really do need your input on this. Would never go off the deep end as it were, without your say so. You do know that, don’t you?”
April nodded, a flushed smile flooded her face.
Picking up the mugs, April took them to the sink. A quick rinse, then power up the machine again.
For a brief space of time, she’d wondered if they had done the right thing, this business they had started together. April felt a little left out, with everything moving so fast this last two weeks. Almost as if Penny was taking over. They were her skills, and had taken them through the company’s early paces. Now she knew that she had something to contribute.
It was not lady-like, but as Penny’s second cup full brewed, April started to whistle.
Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. January 15th, 2019.