I drive to Fells. I park my car next to Hers. In that parking lot we sat in for so long one night, debating where to go. What to do. As some Hispanic guy vomited a few yards away. Over and over again onto the sidewalk.

I park my car there.

And there are still other odd characters on the walk to the coffee shop. The child walking around in jeweled high heel shoes. The homeless man digging through the ashtray atop a garage can for unfinished cigarettes. The girl arranging coins in a particular order on the front steps of a closed store. Her boyfriend standing beside her, waiting. As if he's waiting for her to finish tying her shoe.

I walk past them. Get to the coffee shop. The barista asks what she can get me. I ask for Her. I ask to see Her.

She's in the bathroom cleaning toilets.

I wait. Circle the shop. Browse through the drink case. Look over the muffins and pastries.

Then She appears. With a spray bottle and a roll of paper towels. She appears.

And for the first time in a few days I feel at ease. I feel calm.

She makes me a drink with six shots of espresso. It's called the Jitter Bug.

I drink it as I sit and watch Her roll garbage receptacles to the curb. As She wipes off the counter tops.

As She makes me smile.