CoffeeBeanShop

Love, Latte Style

by Randy Sprague (bio at end of story)

They were cruisin'. David driving and Amber gawking. Driving down highway 39 in Maui in a rented convertible Mustang with the top down, they were on their way to Hana. Blithely cruisin'. Barely thinkin'. Fortunately, they were on a stretch of the crummy, narrow road that had no residents and little to no traffic. Fortunately, because Amber had just peeled off her tank top, exposing bare breasts that bounced with the beat of the bumpy highway. David was glad to see her reach in the back, pull out the recently purchased souvenir tee shirt that proudly proclaimed "I Survived The Road to Hana" and drag it over her head. Even though there was no one around, David was still a prude and he didn't like his new wife's progressive attitude. He wanted her to be too embarrassed to change her clothes in broad daylight in public. But she wasn't.

Amber settled back in the passenger seat and reached over to pick up her iced Mocha from the cup holder in the console. She stuck the straw in her mouth, her rosy lips forming the perfect "o", and sipped daintily. David could see her in his peripheral vision and didn't understand how a woman could have such proper manners and be so cultured one minute and do something as uncouth and unclassy as to undress in public the next.

Scowling, David reached over to get his drink from the cup holder. He thought his mouth was dry because there wasn't much humidity in Maui this time of year. David didn't use a straw. The first thing he always did when he got iced Latte, always a double, on the road was take the plastic lid off and suck down about four gulps, leaving plenty of slop-room in the cup. He took a large mouthful, sloshing the cool liquid around before swallowing, and set the plastic cup back in the console cup holder without looking away from the road. He preferred the iced double Latte's over beer or soda for a cooling summer drink, even though they were kind of yuppie. Amber's iced Mocha's were more so, though. He wouldn't touch those.

"Pull over honey," Amber said as she slid her drink back into the holder. David was more than happy to oblige and take a break from the laborious concentration it took to navigate the narrow, winding road. He pulled over and turned onto a dirt side road leading into a sugarcane field on the right.

"Much better," David sighed as he slowed down. He visibly relaxed, sinking back into the seat, as he drove down the rutty dirt path, towering stalks of sugarcane on either side. It wasn't until he stopped in an open area, the soil apparently compacted by heavy vehicles, that he noticed his iced Latte had sloshed over the lip of his cup onto the console.

"Drat!," he mumbled and reached under his seat for the hand towel he always put in his cars. "Never leave home without that," he thought, as he wiped the milky, brown liquid from the leather. He lifted his clear plastic coffee cup and was pleased to see a good couple cups of Latte left.

While David was cleaning up the mess he'd made, Amber had gotten out of the car and spread the blanket they'd taken from their condo on the ground in front of the Mustang. She walked back to the car just in time to see David holding up his plastic cup to check the contents.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Amber giggled. "You can have some of mine if you run out, I still have plenty left." She married him, but that didn't mean she didn't wonder about him. He could be so finicky sometimes. She'd fix that.

"Hey, I don't drink that stuff!" David grumbled and smiled at the same time. He worked hard at not letting Amber know he had no sense of humor.

"Okay, okay, I was just offering. Come on over here. I have the blanket all spread out and it's inviting us to relax," Amber said and started back toward the front of the car.

David picked up his and Amber's drink and hopped out of the Mustang, leaving his door open and the keys on the floorboards. He wasn't worried anyone would steal the car, there was no one around. But if there was, he was going to make sure he had some privacy with Amber. He set the drinks carefully on the ground next to the edge of the blanket, making sure his didn't spill since it had no top. Amber was sitting cross legged and he sat down in front of her, leaning back against her warm body.

"Hmmmm. Very nice," he said quietly.

"I'm sure. Don't you think it should be the other way around?" Amber asked.

"Well. . .", David thought aloud, "No. I don't have a straw. Can't drink unless I'm in front."

"Ah, now I understand. It's kinda like when you forget your wallet when we go out, isn't it? There's a good reason you get the advantage." Amber wasn't mad, she was just stating a fact.

"Hey, if you have a problem with me, why'd you marry me?" David sat up, away from Amber, but he didn't turn toward her.

"Chill, baby. Don't be so defensive. If your back was any straighter, I'd think you were made of metal." Amber laughed. A deep, vibrant chortle actually. "I'm just playing with you," she said, amusement still in her voice. "Hand me my Mocha, please, and come on back here," she patted the ground between her crossed legs.

David reached for her plastic cup. He was confused again. She did that to him. It was funny, really. One of the reasons they'd gotten married. No one thought they should. . . or would, for that matter. Talk about opposites. That was Amber and David. She a free-spirit, he an anal-retentive. She'd been the only one that understood, though. He didn't want to be so punctilious, he just didn't know how not to. She'd change that and he liked that. Though he wasn't about to let on how he really felt. The only thing they had in common right now was their love of caffeine and travel. He passed Amber her Mocha, grabbed his Latte and settled back against her chest again.

"I don't get it," David was perplexed.

"You don't need to. You just need to do what I tell you to," Amber giggled. It was that deep, throaty kind that made David's spine tingle.

"Wait a minute," David said with mock indignation, "I think you didn't listen to the preacher. You're supposed to obey me."

"I thought it was the other way around," Amber said, obviously smiling. David heard the squeaking sound of the lid on her Mocha drink being peeled off.

"Let's just agree to disagree, drink our drinks, and love each other forever," David said with a warm, pleasant satisfaction.

"Okay," Amber said agreeably.

"That was too easy," David thought to himself just as he felt ice cubes and cold liquid hit the top of his head. He sat bolt upright, sputtering and spitting the taste of cold Mocha. "What the heck!?"

David turned a wet face toward Amber who was now bent over, holding her stomach, and doing an excellent imitation of a belly laugh. Okay, it was no imitation. David didn't say anything else. Amber started to quiet down and finally looked up, but when she saw David's face dripping little beads of brown liquid, she doubled over again. Big, loud spasms of laughter kept her from speaking.

David rolled onto his knees, got up and walked, with as much dignity as he could muster, over to his car. He fished the hand towel out from under his seat again and took his time wiping his face and drying his hair. Amber had quit laughing, rolled up the blanket and come back to the car by the time he was done.

"Let's go get some more drinks, honey," Amber said with a sweet innocence as she threw the blanket on the back seat. There was no mention of what she'd just done.

"Oh no, I still have some left. It's not my fault you poured yours out," David said.

"On your head," Amber giggled.

"Yeah, and what was that all about?"

"I couldn't help myself. Sometimes you're just asking to be put back in your place, you know." Amber settled into the passenger seat.

David paused with his hand on the door, then flopped behind the wheel and picked the keys off the floor. Starting the car, he decided she really was all he wanted. So he'd better just get used to the occasional coffee bath.

© Randy Sprague. All Rights Reserved.

Honorable Mention - Love, Latte Style by Randy Sprague

Randy was a soldier in Vietnam, and received his B.S. in Criminal Justice from Portland State University. Upon his return from Vietnam, he became a police officer in Portland, OR where he met and married his second wife. That happened after he was promoted to Criminalist (him) and Detective (her). He has two sons who fortunately and mysteriously made it to adulthood. Eventually, Randy and his wife decided to move to Sacramento, CA and find a little sunshine and heat. They enjoy the sunshine, but the heat is a bit excessive in August. They both became Private Investigators and after a couple years decided to pool their wits and became partners in the Sprague Agency. That’s where they are today, except Randy has decided to tell stories too, which has his wife a little scared. Their PI business focuses on the defense in employment law which means they do more interviewing than surveillance, but that doesn’t mean they don’t get a share of the seamier side of investigative work. If they're not at the office, you can find them water skiing, scuba diving, snow skiing or flying, depending on the season. Or maybe they're golfing, which requires no season.

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