Lydia resisted her urge to squirm, and instead focused her eyes on the menu. Second-rate coffees, various desserts and snacks, and a few cold drinks were listed besides their sizes and prices. The edges of the paper were frayed, and curling up from the surface of the counter, and the whole surface of the menu was covered in tiny splotches and food stains. ‘They ought to put this under plastic or something,’ Lydia thought, while Todd hummed slightly as he worked the espresso machine. The café was quietly active, about a third of the seats and tables occupied and the entire room slowly filling with tendrils of cigarette smoke and conversation.
"Here ya go," Todd said cheerfully, placing a bright blue mug on the counter. "Oooh, and look. I can even make it artsy," and he pulled out a medium-sized shaker. While Lydia looked on, slightly surprised, he sprinkled a dark powder over the foam at the top of her drink.
"Chocolate," Todd answered her eyebrows.
"Ah. Well…"
"You don’t mind, do you?" Todd said, quickly.
"Well. I. Guess not. Uh, thanks."
"Are you – will you be eating, I mean, sitting outside? Again? Today, I mean?"
"Yeah. Thanks." In a tone that, while still minimally polite, broached no argument, Lydia spoke as she pulled out two dollar bills.
"Keep the change. For the chocolate."
"Wait-"
Lydia had already turned and was walking out.

Ten minutes later, Lydia was sitting in her chair, watching tendrils of cloud drift across the sky. The door to the café opened, a squeak from the hinges combining with the bell against the inside of the grass to make a noise that Lydia was well used to. She didn’t even glance over to see who it was that was exiting the café.
However, when she heard the scratch of aluminum against concrete, somebody pulling on a chair, she jumped. "Shit!" she squawked, as warm coffee splashed out of the top of her mug and over her hands. It wasn’t painful, but it was completely unexpected. Sucking in a deep breath, she looked nervously over to see who was sitting down.
Todd stood behind the chair he had pulled out, looking strangely awkward and confident at the same time. "Do you – I mean, you don’t mind, do you?" he said, his voice swift.
Lydia shook her head dumbly.
Grinning with what surely couldn’t be relief, Todd dropped gracelessly into the chair, shivering at the chilly metal. He was wearing a bomber jacket and knit cap, not nearly enough protection against the cold. Not looking Lydia in the eye, not that she was looking either, really, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and pulled out one long slim cylinder.
Lydia opened her mouth to speak, paused and licked her cracking lips, and opened again. By that time, Todd, moving swiftly, had already pulled out a lighter and was holding the flame to the end of the cigarette.
She found her voice.
"Please don’t."
Starting, Todd nearly dropped his fag. "What?" He was surprised, and surprisingly uncertain. His question was worried, not confrontational. "I—"
"It’s just – I mean, I don’t like them. Cigarettes. The smoke, I mean."
"Oh," Todd said awkwardly, immediately putting out the cigarette into the glass ashtray. "I just – you know, the cold. It helps. Sort of."
"Yeah." Lydia could smell the cigarette smoke, winding up from the crushed butt and leaving a thin tendril of ash stretching up into the air.
Silence.
"Soooo," Todd said carefully, looking across the street. "Anything interesting happen to you today?" Finally, he turned and looked Lydia straight in the eyes.
It was Lydia’s turn to look at the empty storefront. "Not really. I guess. I don’t know. I – I did convince my boss to give me more overtime pay."
"Really? That’s cool. Um, where do you work?"
Quizzically, Lydia looked at him. "The diner. S and D’s diner. Thus, you know, the uniform."
"Right." Todd looked less uncomfortable now, not at all stymied by his oblivious question. "Is it nice there?"
"I guess."
"Why are you working overtime?"
Without moving her eyes from their fixed gaze, on the sidewalk now, could see that Todd had relaxed, resting his elbows on the cold glass of the table and looking at her face with interest. Schooling her features, she looked up and said coolly, "Why do you care?"
Blinking, Todd paused, then smiled. Confused, Lydia dropped her gaze again, eyelids flickering in a blink of her own and all traces of impassiveness gone.
"Dunno," Todd said, as though he were curious too. "Just wondering, I suppose."
Gathering her courage, Lydia asked a question of her own. "So. Anything, um, interesting happen to you?"
"Not so much. Just a pretty typical day." Todd paused, and looked across the street again. "You did come in, though."
"What?"
"I said, you came in."
"That’s what I thought you said," Lydia answered, before surprising herself by scoffing. "I asked for something interesting."
A completely different kind of smile briefly passed across Todd’s face. "You are interesting," he insisted mildly.
Lydia didn’t even bother answering.
"Like now, for instance. You’ve had that coffee what, fifteen minutes now? Have you even drunk a sip? There’s no possible way it could still be hot. And then there’s the fact that it’s always the same drink, the same color mug, and as far as I can tell you always drink only half of –"
"So that’s why you’re here, then?"
"What?"
"To find out the secrets to my coffee-drinking habits," Lydia said, walking an unfamiliar line between bitterness and sarcasm. "Some sort of study for the café, maybe, or ‘personal curiousity,’ or to settle a bet, or just because you’re really really bored…"
"No!"
"Seriously," and she sounded it, "Why are you here?" For the third time in their conversation, Lydia looked straight into Todd’s eyes. She wasn’t quite sure what it was that she saw there.
"I’m not sure," Todd said. "I know it wasn’t just to find out the story behind your rituals, or," and he reached inside his pockets, "to return these," as he laid two quarters on the table, "or to have a smoke."
Lydia just stared at the quarters.
"Maybe," Todd mused, "I wanted to know just what it was that you saw out here. You know, why you sit out here every day – there must be something about it, something nice or good or worthwhile outside here."
"Did you find it?" Lydia asked, looking at Todd’s hands rather than his face.
"Dunno."
There was a pause.
With a sigh, Todd stood up. "They’ll be missing me inside," he said apologetically. Lydia nodded to her coffee.
When he had left, she sat there for five more minutes, looking into her mug.
Downing half of the latte quickly, she set it on the table and left.
The two quarters remained haphazardly stacked on the middle of the table.


That Thursday, as that Tuesday and Wednesday, the dark-haired girl was standing behind the counter when Lydia walked in. "Hello," she said cheerfully, while Lydia just nodded. "Will it be the usual, then?"
Lydia nodded again. "In a –"
"Blue mug, if you please," the woman said in a laughing voice that didn’t mock. "I know the drill."
Unexpectedly, Todd’s head stuck out of the kitchen. "I’ll handle it, Rachel," he said quickly.
"I’ve got it," the girl said distractedly as she fished around for a mug of the proper shade.
"No, no, really, I want to do this one. Kitchen work gets so dull."
Rachel crossed the few steps to where Todd now stood, entirely out of the kitchen. One hand, holding the handle of the mug, braced against a hip, she thrust the pointer finger of her other hand into Todd’s chest. "It’s like that then, is it?" she breathed up at him. "Give the dirty work to me, hmmm?"
Todd grinned sheepishly, looking between Rachel and Lydia, who pointedly watched the unused espresso machine.
"Or," Rachel said slowly, "is there something else going on?"
"Sheesh, Rach," Todd said as he untied his apron, "I just want to make a coffee instead of sitting around in the kitchen waiting for somebody to make an order. We aren’t particular busy, in case you hadn’t noticed. Think of this as an extra break."
Rachel made a peeved noise, but took the apron and headed for the door. As she left, she cast a meaningful glance over her shoulder towards the two people at the counter.
"So. Um, sorry bout that, Todd said. Glancing down, he started as he realized that he held a dusty blue mug. Turning, he started to pull levers.
Realizing that Lydia hadn’t spoken, he glanced over her shoulder and saw her looking about – either at the people in the café, or the empty seats that separated them. It was hard to tell.
"She’s not – you know. Rachel and I aren’t together, or anything."
Lydia’s eyes widened at this, and then narrowed as she looked at Todd. Speaking to him for the first time Thursday, she said, "What makes you think I’d care?"
"Nothing, I suppose," Todd said quietly.
"Hmmm."

Several quiet moments later, Todd turned around with two drinks in his hands – one in a blue mug, the other in a green.
"What is – "
"One for you, one for me," Todd answered, cheekily cheerful. "Shall we head outside?"
Gaping in shock, Lydia could only follow.

Todd walked to Lydia’s table, carrying both their drinks. As they passed through the café, Lydia looked around, blushing slightly. What a sight, what people must think – well, what would people think? And worse, would they be right?
By the time they were both sitting down, Lydia was in no mood to talk. Todd looked at her, almost opened his mouth, and then shut it with a barely audible ‘clack.’ Pushing the green mug across the table, he pulled his hat lower around his ears and gripped his cappuccino tightly.
They sat in silence, Lydia looking at her coffee with her forehead wrinkled and lips frowning, and Todd sipping his hot drink while watching Lydia, curiosity written across his features.
Twenty minutes later, his drink long drained and his break well over, Todd softly said, "Hey."
Lydia looked up, surprised at the intrusion.
"I’ve got to go, kay? See you around."
Lydia nodded dumbly. Todd stood, carrying his mug back inside the café.
It wasn’t until she stood to leave that Lydia noticed the quarters sitting on the table. Slipping them reluctantly into her pocket, she couldn’t remember how he put them there.


On Friday, it rained. It rained rather a lot, actually, in the way that November rains a lot – constant drizzling, occasionally increasing to a decent downpour for a few minutes, and then going back to the drizzle. Lydia almost wished for the torrential rains of spring and summer, where at least after the deluges were over, they’re over.
She could tell as soon as she opened her eyes that the day would be unpleasant. When her arm left the warmth of covers it immediately hit chilly air, causing her to recoil before switching off the alarm. Outside it was dark, a dull, flat dark with no stars and no moon and a haze that blocked some of the light from the streetlights. Lydia looked out her window, and almost groaned. Rain, particularly cold, drizzly rain, on a gray day that screamed of sameness, was one of Lydia’s least favorite parts of existence,
Lydia opened two drawers, the top and the middle, grabbing from the pantyhose and a simple long-sleeved white turtleneck in addition to her usual underwear. Barefoot and clutching her clothes, she walked across the floor of her room while the space heater, recently turned up, tried desperately to heat the area. She shivered at the feel of the still-cool air against her skin, and again at the sight out the window, and with a soft sigh entered the bathroom.

An umbrella leaned against the side of her bookcase, a simple black affair. It was a little worn, spokes sticking free of the fabric in several places. Lydia put on her gloves, hat, scarf, and coat before crossing back and picking up the umbrella. As the heater had done its job by now, she was uncomfortably warm – but crossing to the heater to switch it off, she stood in the heat for a moment longer than necessary before sighing yet again and turning to the door.

November rain made Lydia irritated, and upset, and sad. It seeps into your clothes in a highly unsatisfying, cold manner, making clothes sticky and heavy but never really outright wet. With every breath, you inhaled tiny particles of the rain, until they had invaded not only your clothes and your mood but also penetrated into the inside of your body. It made everything seem very far away, and very similar to everything else. It put distance between strangers on the street, though it sometimes brought friends and lovers closer together – and for highly irrational reasons, those were both things that, although they didn’t affect her directly, really annoyed Lydia. She wouldn’t admit it unless she was under duress, though.
Some of the time as Lydia walked along she was thinking of exactly why and how she hated this weather – other times, her thought was simpler. ‘I hate this,’ she though as she stepped into the gutter by accident, soaking her foot. ‘I hate November," she thought drearily as she waited to cross a busy street. "I rather hate the world at the moment," she thought spitefully while approaching the diner, then laughed at her own ridiculousness.
Inside the diner, a waitress casually smoked a cigarette while leaning against the huge dishwasher, pointedly ignoring the cook yelling at her for getting smoke in the food in favor in flirting with one who didn’t appear to mind so much.
Unnoticed, Lydia hung her coat on the nail in the wall. While she edged past the couple and the angry man and a tired-looking dishwasher who nodded at her, and her at him, and all the other people milling about in the kitchen, Becky finally lost her patience.
"Look, Mike, what difference does it make, hmm? Everybody sitting out there is addicted to the stuff, and they’re eating this crap, they haven’t got any taste buds, they won’t notice a thing, mmmkay? So it really doesn’t matter."
"But"
"I don’t give a shit."
"Becky, you’re –"
"I said I don’t give a shit."
"Look, there’s a reason we don’t allow smoking in here. If we don’t let the customers smoke, then how can we let the waitresses smoke?"
"And why don’t we let the customers smoke, hmm?"
"Greg doesn’t like it."
"Oh, Greg doesn’t like it – Greg doesn’t like it." Becky mock-simpered. "Well, Greg can kiss my ass."
"I wouldn’t go and tell him that," Mike snickered.
Becky glared.
A few more people giggled, too, while others rolled their eyes. Lydia finished edging out of the kitchen, feeling more and more uncomfortable, and reached the dining room door with a relieved sigh right as Becky had turned to face Mike straight on, hands on her hip, flirtee forgotten and cigarette still smoldering, and Mike leaned back insolently and smirked.
More fighting. Nobody was ever fooled, really, as to why they were fighting – including the cook who slinked back to his frying pan – but it was still fighting. Arguments, harsh words, pain, noise… Lydia picked up her pad and pen and dove uncharacteristicaly straight into the dining room.
"Hello, welcome to S and D’s Diner, How may I help you?"

The canopy wasn’t out, despite the rain which at the moment was falling steadily and hard enough that Lydia’s ears were filled with the sound of raindrops against nylon. Lydia stood and looked at the wet table and chairs, furrowing her brow. Looking undecidedly at the door, she sighed, frowned, and pushed it open.
At the tinkle of the bell, Todd looked up from where he had been reading a newspaper spread out on the counter. "Ah, good," he said with a smile. "I wasn’t sure if you’d be coming in today."
Lydia looked at him oddly. "The usual, please."
"But of course," Todd said broadly, spreading his arms. "So," he said, as he picked a blue mug up from where it had been sitting on the counter and turned towards the espresso machine. "How was your day?"
"Um. Usual, I guess."
"You’re fond of that, aren’t you?"
Lydia said nothing. Actually, nobody said anything for a while. Todd focused on the espresso machine, and Lydia focused on Todd’s back without realizing it.
When Todd turned around, Lydia looked up in surprise. With a flourish, Todd whipped out the chocolate shaker and rattled it around above the mug. Sprinklings of cocoa landed on the white foam – and, to be honest, all over the counter. Lydia had to surpress a giggle.
"Here you are, m’lady. And will that be all?" Todd bowed slightly, holding out the mug and looking up with a quirk in his eyebrow.
"Yes, thank you." Lydia pulled out the exact change and went to lay it on the counter, only to find Todd’s hand in the way. Blinking, she set the money onto his palm, and he turned to the cash register. Lydia slowly turned and headed for the door.
"Now wait just a minute," Todd said, confusion and consternation in his eyes. Lydia paused – was there a problem with the money?
"You aren’t going to go sit outside, are you?"
"Uh, yeah, I – I was planning to, yes."
"No fucking way." Lydia jumped at the expletive, and Todd winced in apology. He kept going. "Look out there. It’s freezing and it’s raining. There’s not even a canopy up. What are you going to do, hold your umbrella in one hand and your coffee in the other?"
Lydia glanced down, a slight blush on her cheeks. Todd barely noticed.
"You can’t possibly. Look, it’s not busy in here, not crowded or noisy at all. There’s even a spot in that corner, near the ventilation vents, where the smoke shouldn’t bother you too much. Just for today. What good will it do you to get all wet and cold?"
Biting her lip, Lydia looked into the corner Todd pointed at, where a comfy booth was situated. It was nice and warm inside, and the other people in the café were on the other side, far away. It was so tempting –
Then she looked up and into Todd’s eyes. A brilliant blue, they were filled with – triumph? Lydia’s own eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"The canopy was left down…" she said, mulling over her thoughts. A strange expression briefly crossed Todd’s face. "… surely not on purpose?" she continued.
"Of course not," Todd said breezily, equilibrium maintained. "Just a lucky – I mean, unfortunate mistake." He had come around the counter now, and was winking as he pulled on Lydia’s upper arm, tugging her towards the booth.
"You’re manhandling me," Lydia said flatly, tugging her arm away and turning away from Todd.
"Only a little!" he said, half-defensively, half-jokingly. She was silent. "Sorry," he said. "Look, just – shall we sit down?"
"We?"
"Yeah, I – I was thinking, I mean… dammit." His voice was growing harsh. Lydia looked over her shoulder at him, unable to take those bright eyes straight-on but rather examining them through eyelashes.
At Lydia’s glance, half-lidded and considering rather than accusatory, Todd relaxed a bit. "Look, let’s start over, shall we?"
Lydia nodded, adjusting her grip on her mug. She was entirely too hot, with her hat and gloves and scarf and coat, but taking them off would have meant she was definitely staying inside.
"There’s a booth in this corner, warm and dry, but quiet and away from the other customers. It’s not even very smoky over here. Would you like to sit down?"
Examining Todd’s comically plaintive face, Lydia decided that under all that bluster he was probably sincere.
"I won’t even smoke."
With a small smile, Lydia nodded. Todd grinned back at her, and reached over for her umbrella.
Lydia pulled her hand back just far enough that Todd couldn’t reach it – or that he’d reach in a way rather embarrassing for both of them in order to get it, although Lydia didn’t realize that until Todd pulled back with an ‘are-you-serious?’ questioning look.
Blushing yet again, Lydia tucked her umbrella close to her body, a slightly awkward motion. "I can handle it myself, thanks."
"Sorry," Todd muttered. "Just trying to be polite."
"I – I didn’t mean to offend," Lydia said, worried that she’d unintentionally hurt Todd’s feelings. "It’s just – I mean, I’m not used to – well, it’s not the polite, it’s that – the politeness, I mean – that’s good – I mean, it’s okay, but I just –" She paused and took a deep breath. "I can carry my own umbrella," Lydia said in a controlled voice.
"I understand," Todd said. He seemed to have been placated by Lydia’s floundering sort of apology. "Do you think we can sit down now?"
Surprised, Lydia glanced around. Throughout the entire conversation they had been standing in the middle of the floor, surely a rather peculiar sight. Lydia hurried over to the booth and put her coffee on the table and her umbrella on the floor. Todd slid in across from her as she started to pull off the stifling winter clothes, stripping off wool and felt until she was dressed in her uniform again.
Carefully, looking at her hands, Lydia folded her coat, scarf, and hat, and placed her gloves very carefully together on the stack that now sat beside her. Just as she was sitting down and about to look at Todd, a startled look passed Lydia’s face and she started up. Mussing the stack she had just created, she pulled out her coat and shook it out.
Rifling through the pockets quickly uncovered the plain keychain and slim wallet. Putting them into the pocket of her skirt, Lydia sat down again – only to rise up with a start and start refolding her clothes, piling them neatly yet again. With a sigh of relief, Lydia sank down into the cushions.
Looking up, she saw Todd watching her with amusement. "Are you quite done?" he asked.
Mortified, Lydia looked down. She didn’t say a thing, just gnawed on her lower lip and glanced at the table.
"I – I didn’t mean –" Todd started, sounding guilty. Lydia didn’t look up. "I didn’t mind," he finished weakly.
An awkward silence followed. Lydia didn’t even have a menu to look at this time, just a blue-glazed mug and a sprinkling of chocolate, or her hands, or the green surface of the table. She didn’t even want to glance up at the rest of the café. They might all be watching her – or they might catch her watching them, or think that she was staring at them when really she was studying a rip in the fabric on the booth behind them, and besides then Todd might look there – was he already? She didn’t dare to check – and say something and then there’d be talking and it would be bad.
Lydia felt truly silly, sitting there staring at the table, and thinking thoughts like ‘talking would be bad.’ Suddenly she realized that her mug was still sitting there on the table. Straightening her shoulders, she reached out her hands and grasped the warm ceramic.
Immediately, she regretted it, for the motion appeared to have been a catalyst of sorts for Todd. Taking a breath, the man leaned forward and put his elbows on the table.
For fear that their knees would touch, Lydia had tucked her legs sideways along the bottom of her bench. Now that hey had both leaned in towards the table, they were closer together than they had been since he’d touched her – ‘manhandled’ her. Careful not to move too swiftly, Lydia leaned back as Todd began to talk.
"Look. Why don’t we start over,"
"Again," Lydia interrupted. Her dry croak surprised her, but she simply hadn’t been able to resist. Holding her breath, she clutched her mug closer to her face.
"Again," Todd agreed. He gave a dry laugh and looked at the wall. "We really aren’t very good at this, are we?"
Lydia shook her head, an emphatic ‘no.’
Taking a deep breath, Todd forged ahead. "So should we try to do apologies, or have a clean slate?"
"Cle— clean slate, I suppose."
"All right then." They sat for a few moments.
"Um, how about starting at the beginning? Your name’s Lydia, right?"
"How—" Lydia blinked in surprise, before looking down at where her name was embroidered in pink thread upon her uniform. "Yeah, it is."
"I’m Todd."
"I know." Lydia gave a little smile. "You wore a nametag once or twice, too."
It was his turn to be surprised. "Oh – and you, remembered?"
"Yeah, I guess. I don’t know. I used to know someone named Todd."
"Ah."
The silence had stretched on just a bit too long to be a natural pause between words, and Lydia couldn’t take it. "So – how long have you worked here?"
Todd perked up. "A couple of years. I’ve been going to school at the local university, started that about five years ago – traduated this spring. Figured I’d have a ‘real’ job by now, but the way the market is, I’ll be here for a little while. I’m still sending out resumes and what not, but I don’t mind working here. It pays the bills, and it’s kinda fun."
"What did you major in?"
"English, actually. I guess I’ll have to be a teacher now – I’m not particularly good with kids, but there aren’t all that many options for people with English majors. I never have been much of one for planning ahead," he said with a self-deprecating grin.
"I thought English was one of the most versatile majors?" Lydia said curiously.
"In a way, yes. In a way, no. But enough about me. Did you go to college?"
"for a while," Lydia said quietly.
Undaunted, Todd said, "What did you major in?"
"Premed."
He looked at the young woman in surprise. She was wearing a peculiar expression – her nostrils slightly flared, lips drawn to the side in an ironically amused yet slightly bitter fashion, and her eyebrows slightly raised. She raised pale eyes to look at Todd.
"Really? Was it – ah, was it fun?"
"Not in the least."
Todd paused. "Don’t take this the wrong way, but – you don’t strike me as, you know, the med school type."
"Nah, I don’t think I am."
A sympathetic look came into his eyes. "Did your parents push you into it? I know how much that can suck, I had this friend who –"
"No, quite the opposite. My mother was deadset against it."
"oh."
"Said I couldn’t handle it. I guess she was right. But enough about me, are you from around here?"