Dave brushed past me as he made his into to the kitchen. No words were spoken between us. Not even a glance. We were having an off day.

He was distraught with me. I had closed the shop the evening before and seemed to have forgotten a number of items on the “to-do” list. I neglected to make the dough for the next day’s bread. It also completely escaped my mind to prep the bacon, refill the espresso grinder as well as the ice bucket. I had also failed to remember to make the chai…and the list goes on. By the time I arrived that next morning for the lunch shift, he had spent four hours frantically catching up. My mind during this time was a million miles away and he was tired of covering for me.

I let out a sigh and started cleaning up the lime green spray of banana avocado smoothie that had splashed all over the counter and walls surrounding the barista area. I had forgotten, yet again, to put the lid on the blender before starting it. And, yet again, I had managed to make a complete mess of things.

The string of bells jingling on the screen door alerted me of incoming customers. I slowly let out a sigh and squeezed my eyes shut. I got this.

As I turned, I put on a smile and prepared a greeting. Facing me was a friendly couple full of questions and I tried to stay focused while answering them,

very much aware of the mess of green slime all around and on me. I can only imagine how it looked from the other side of the counter.

The woman ordered a demitasse with an accent. I put my game head on and started up the grinder. The fact that she asked for a doppio instead of a double espresso told me that she was experienced in such things. The Wapiti has a reputation for having excellent doppio and demitasse drinks. Many of the locals who are formally from Europe will make the drive across the Valley for our espresso. My grinds had to be perfect and my pour time on the mark. I wanted to make this the best espresso that she would experience during her visit to the United States.

I placed the portafilter and started the pour. Slowly a dark liquid began to drip into the shot glasses. This was indeed going to be a spectacular espresso. I glanced over at them to see if they too noticed my awesome pour but they were staring deeply into one another’s eyes. He reached down and kissed her on the nose. I smiled. They were in love. I wonder what their story was but for once kept my mouth shut and allowed them to be in their own little world.

By the time I had poured the doppio, they had decided to place an order for food. They asked a couple of questions about the area and then made their way outside to enjoy the beautiful July mountain weather we were experiencing.

“Order IN” I managed to blurt towards the kitchen as I placed the ticket in the clip. I didn’t offer to help. The barista green smoothie slime disaster needed my attention. This was going to take awhile and before long I was deeply focused on moving blenders and syrup containers to wipe underneath.

“Order UP!” Dave barely mumbled. When he’s not happy he mumbles so that I can barely hear him. I find this ironic since he’s half deaf. I mean, can he even hear himself when he whispers like that?

I left the green slime mess to run the order promising myself I would step right back inside and clean it up. No dilly-dallying…I’d already screwed up the morning enough.

Outside the couple was standing at one of the outdoor tables with their arms wrapped around each other. “You two seem very much in love.” I managed to smile as I placed their order on the table.

“We just met a few weeks ago.” The man returned with a smile. “We met in Prague where Misha lives and works. She came to visit me in Denver for a few days and I’m moving back with her.” He said it with caution, afraid of being judged and as though this was the first time he had said it out loud. She looked up at him and smiled. This was also something very new to her. I could sense nervousness. These people seemed to be mature, radical people. This was not something folks with sound minds do.

I knew exactly what they were going through.

In January of 2010 I was 40 years old and very happily living the single life. I had a lovely little house, two dogs, a cat, and an amazing career. I was content and so very happy with where I was. And then one evening, un-expectantly, I met Dave. He asked me on a date for the next day. We’d go on a hike with our dogs. We would spend hours talking and he would make me a promise so lovely that I felt a deep connection to him by the time we found our way back to the truck.

Two weeks later I sold everything I owned except for my clothes and photography equipment and I moved away from my beloved city of Cincinnati to the rural hills of southeastern Kentucky.

“You seem nervous. I know exactly how you are feeling. My husband and I have a very similar story.” And I casually sat down at their table and told the story of Steph&Dave. I tell them how me met and how two weeks later I moved in with him. I told them the good and the bad of it. The wonderful evenings by the wood stove. The seventeen breakups the first year because we were both so independent and so stubborn. How I ran off to Algeria for six weeks to rid myself of the relationship. “And I promptly proposed soon after she returned. I didn’t want her getting away from me again.” I turned around to see Dave smiling for the first time that day.

He loves hearing me tell my version of our story. He loves it because I pause at all the right places so he can give his input as well. “And I said yes.” was my reply. And just like that we are both telling the story and ending each other’s sentences. We had told this tale together so many times we each know where to chime in. It is something we love to do…tell our strange and amazing advenure.

We told them about our wedding business and how we found a house in Colorado after years of searching. I told them about the promise Dave made me on that hike during our first date and that was how The Wapiti came to be. By the end we are all smiling and laughing.

Misha and Dave had a smoke while I gave Eric some more advice. Turns out he’s a photographer as well. I tell him that as wonderful as it feels at that very moment, their relationship will indeed have it’s own set of challenges. I hear Dave having a similar conversation with Misha. I hear him telling her how much of a hard worker I am and how much he is in awe of that. How he loves that I can’t cook but decided to open up a restaurant. For the first time that day I hear him laugh. If he only knew how much I loved that laugh. One day shortly after that day, I did tell him. I told him the many things that I love about him.

This is one of the things I love about the coffee shop. The people we meet and the journeys they are on…and the roads they have traveled to get here. I believe there is something about walking into our little space that instantly makes most people comfortable. Maybe it’s the warm colors or the coziness or the music….or maybe even our smiles.

Before long, I watch Misha and Eric make their way down the sidewalk to continue their day exploring Southern Colorado. I feel Dave come up from behind and wrap his arms around my waist. “I love you more than applesauce” he whispers. “I love you 18.” I reply as we make our way inside. I look over the counter and the green slimy mess from the exploding smoothie has been cleaned up. Once again, he’s got my back.

Happy Valentines Day, everyone. I hope you are with the one who finishes your sentences and makes you laugh like no other.