Day 260 - The Smell of Fresh Brewed Coffee

 The Smell of Fresh Brewed Coffee

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Jermaine hated the smell of coffee. He wasn’t sure when that had started. As a young man, he loved coffee. The darker the better. Somewhere along the way his taste buds changed and his olfactory system soured and now he couldn’t stand the burnt sour smell. But he loved Molly and he wasn’t going to complain in the mornings. Not ever. He reminded himself of that promise repeatedly. Molly was the best thing that ever happened to him and there was no sense in squabbling over the little things. Coffee was everywhere in society and just about anyone he could possibly ever date would likely enjoy a drink. Molly was one of kind and no choice of beverage was going to spoil that.

Still, the annoyance lingered. Jermaine didn’t know why it should. Just a dumb nagging feeling he couldn’t get rid of. He could tell her about it, but then he’d have to admit he had been putting up with the smell for years now without saying anything. Maybe it would be endearing or maybe she’d think he was a kook and co-dependent or something. And then they’d probably have to talk about it again and again and she’d do something like stop making coffee but secretly buy it on the way to work, and then he’d feel bad for putting her through so much rigamarole.

He was interested in none of that.

But he was interested in figuring out why he was getting annoyed and that it seemed to be getting worse.

What else was wrong with his life? His day? What little stress or anxiety was exhibiting itself in the form of coffee aversion? Why assign something like that to something so ordinary?

Maybe he needed a doctor. Or maybe he just needed a better night’s sleep.

Jermaine suddenly had a flash of memory, of a moment years-and-years ago. It was the three of them, lounging in a booth at an all-night diner, swilling down many many pots of coffee, eating late-night pancakes and chicken fingers and dreaming up ideas about the future and all that they were going to achieve and become. What was he then, nineteen? Twenty? Mark and Mike and Trent and sometimes Mike’s other friend. Brandon or Damon or something like that. Artists and actors and dreams, all. Somewhere in college he had lived off coffee and cigarettes and then somewhere along the way he had lost the taste.

He hadn’t thought about those guys in… well he wasn’t quite sure when the last time he thought of those guys was. Years. At least.

“What are you smiling about?” asked Molly.

“I was thinking about that shitty diner from college. The one we’d all go to after getting drunk.”

“Oh, I remember. You were all a bunch of vagabonds.”

“We weren’t that bad.”

“No, you were. But at least you were fun.”

“You ever talk to anybody from back then?”

“Feeling nostalgic?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Call it an itch. Something just made me think about them and I was wondering whatever happened. You lose track along the way. Everybody moves and then poof, they’re gone.”

“That’s what social media is for. So, you can stalk someone but not have to admit it.”

“Yeah, I guess I could look them up.”

“You’re in a strange mood this morning.”

“Slept funny. I night have had some nightmares or something. I can’t really remember.”

“No more late-night snacks.”

“Yes doctor.”

“Ha ha ha.”

Jermaine wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips.

“God, I’m so lucky.”

“Yes, you are.”

He kissed her again.

“You taste like coffee.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Hummmm, good. Real good.”

“There’s more out there. You can have a cup.”

“I just might. But first…”

He leaned in a kissed her again. He really did feel lucky. Molly was the best thing to ever happen to him and he never wanted to let her go. Still, he wasn’t able to shake the funny feeling that he was forgetting something about those guys and the smell of coffee.