Cup of Joe

by Teri Wilson

  “Just one.” He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. His expression turned almost sheepish and words like adorable and dreamy floated through Goldie’s thoughts. She blinked several long blinks.

  Convinced she was getting her impression of the sweet dog confused with her thoughts of Joe, she asked the obvious question. “Then who does this one belong to?”

  He flashed that full-on, thousand-watt smile and took a step closer. Goldie was surprised to find he smelled vaguely of toothpaste. She would have guessed coffee. Not that she’d given it any thought up until this point. Because she hadn’t. Right?

  “She belongs to you,” he breathed out in a minty whisper.

  Goldie tried to respond, but found herself frozen in time, unable to move or speak. A surprising thrill ran up and down her spine, and then she realized it all had to be a big misunderstanding. Joe must have seen this dog wandering around the neighborhood and thought it was hers for some reason. Although, surely her Grandpa would have mentioned to him if they’d had a dog. And Joe had been in their home plenty of times in those last months. There had never been a dog in sight. “Oh no. I don’t have a dog.”

  She held the little spaniel out toward him. The dog’s legs spun in the air as if she were trying to keep afloat.

  Joe didn’t reach for the pup. He just shrugged, winked and shoved his hands in the pockets of his khaki dress pants. “You do now.”

  The shiver ran up Goldie’s spine again, causing her to feel more tingly, more alive, than she had in weeks. Acting on instinct, she hugged the spaniel close to her chest again. “What? You bought me a dog?”

  Joe shook his head. “No, I didn’t buy her. She’s from the shelter. I host a monthly pet adoption at the coffee shop.”

  Goldie nodded, as if anything he said made sense. What was happening? How did the shelter and its monthly pet adoption have anything to do with her? People just didn’t go around giving dogs as gifts. Casseroles, yes. Dogs, no. Definitely not.

  “Look, I know it may not seem appropriate, and if you don’t want her I understand. I can take her back.” Joe ran his fingertips over the crown of the little pup’s head. She batted long doggy lashes and nudged against his hand for more petting.

  She does seem like a sweetheart.

  Goldie squeezed the little orange and white dog and held her close enough so that she could feel the thump of a doggie heart beating against her own. It was the closest she’d been to another beating heart in a very long time. “Well, I’d hate to turn her away if she needs a home.”

  Joe clasped his hands in front of his chest and closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. It looked almost as though he were praying. “OK. That’s great. Really, really great.”

  The dog melted into the crook of Goldie’s arm, a warm bundle of soft fur. Goldie thought perhaps she would let the pup sleep with her in the pink room tonight. Then she realized that for the first time since her grandfather died, she would no longer be alone in the house where she grew up. Before she could stop it, a lone tear of gratitude fell from her lashes.

  “Thank you,” she breathed.

  Joe nodded and his gaze glowed with understanding. Not pity, or even sympathy. The expression his coffee eyes bore was one of shared grief. “My pleasure.”

  Goldie sniffed and shifted from one foot to the other. She really needed to hold it together. But she had to ask him one last question before the two of them went inside and she lost him in the whirlwind of all the other guests. “Why?”

  Joe looked up from the dog with a questioning glance. “Why what?”

  “Why are you doing all of this for me? You hardly know me.” Her voice cracked with emotion.

  Joe’s fingers wrapped around the shiny silver tag on the dog’s pink collar. He turned over the tag, ran his thumb over the engraving and showed it to Goldie. “Because something told me this might be exactly what you need right now.”

  Bliss.

  The dog’s name was Bliss.

  Cup of Joe

  Inspirational romance, Christian romance, Christian fiction, romance novel, christian romance novel, teri wilson, white rose publishing

  Cup of Joe

  Chapter Three

  “You did what?” Cinnamon’s hand froze mid-air until the coffee she was pouring into a cherry red mug spilled over the edges and onto the countertop.

  Joe blotted at the mess with a paper towel. “I gave her a dog.”

  “A dog? You gave her a dog?”

  “Yes.” Joe made air quotes with his fingers. “Chicks dig dogs. Sound familiar?”

  Cinnamon groaned and blew a puff of air toward her forehead, momentarily causing her red bangs to go airborne.

  Joe furrowed his brow. “What?”

  “Dogs are living beings. They’re not meant to be gifts. I would think you, of all people, would know that.” She waved a dishrag toward Java’s dog bed in the corner of the coffee shop. The Husky’s mismatched eyes followed the flailing motions of the dishrag. “How ever did you get the shelter staff to agree to it?”

  Joe closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. For such a young girl, Cinnamon certainly had no problem speaking her mind. Even when her boss was on the receiving end of her lecture. “You have a point. But, don’t worry. If for some reason it doesn’t work out, I’ll take the dog. And once I explained the situation to the shelter manager, she understood.”

  “And what exactly is the situation?” Cinnamon’s voice rose, full of romantic innuendo.

  Joe shot her a look of warning. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Then what is it?” Her expression became contrite while she twisted her dishrag and begged. “C’mon, please. You’ve told me this much already.”

  Joe’s gaze shot from one empty barstool to the next. They were alone, so he figured he might as well share his moment of epiphany with the bubbly barista. What could it hurt? “Well, as you know I went by Goldie’s house this morning to bring her the latte macchiato…which she loved, by the way.”

  “Told ya!” Cinnamon flashed a smile, and the movement of her face caused her nose stud to glisten and sparkle.

  Joe attempted to ignore it, although to him it was like trying to ignore a strobe light. “She really liked Java, too. When she petted him it was the first time I’d seen her smile since her grandfather’s passing.” His heart warmed as he remembered her brief instant of joy.

  “Told ya so. Again.”

  Joe ignored her cocky smirk. “Anyway, on the walk back to the coffee shop I began to pray.”

  “Pray?” Cinnamon frowned.

  “Yes.”

  “What for?”

  “For Goldie. I asked God to make her smile again, like she had with Java. I know she won’t stop grieving all at once, but I asked for another smile. Just one. Just one small moment of happiness.”

  Cinnamon became very quiet and seemed to be turning his words over in her mind. “Then what happened?”

  “I got back to the coffee shop and the animal shelter was here setting up for the pet adoption. I saw the little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel all by herself in the exercise pen.” A chill ran up and down Joe’s spine as he remembered the events of the morning. “At first I thought how strange it was to see a homeless Cavalier. So, I went over to pick her up. Then I saw the tag, and her name, and I knew.”

  “Knew what?” Cinnamon bunched the dishrag in her hands, clearly engrossed in his story.

  “I knew it was God answering my prayer. It was the perfect moment of clarity.” He clutched his hand to his chest, remembering the scripture that had come immediately to mind. The words had been so clear, so perfect that it was as if an angel had whispered them in his ear right there in the parking lot. How could he possibly explain something so intimate?

  “The dog’s name was Bliss. Bliss, of all things.” This part of the story always made him laugh and it did once more.

  Cinnamon crossed her arms. “You’re losing me, boss.”

  Joe turned to face her. “Ephesians 3
:20.”

  “From the Bible?”

  “Yes.” He closed his eyes and spoke the words aloud. He’d heard them at church many times throughout the years, but never had they meant as much to him as they had this morning while he held the wiggly pup in his arms. “It says God is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us.”

  He paused and let the scripture and its meaning soak in. “Don’t you see? I asked Him for one smile, one sliver of contentment. But God wants to do more than all I could ever ask or imagine. He wants to give her joy, all-encompassing happiness. He wants to give her bliss.”

  Cinnamon gasped. “Wow.”

  Joe cleared his throat, now clogged with emotion. “So, I knew the dog belonged to her.”

  “That is the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.” Even Cinnamon sounded choked up. “You really believe in all that, don’t you?”

  Joe slid his gaze toward her and realized for the first time that she may not be a believer. After all, he didn’t know that much about her personal life. She was his employee—a recent one, at that. “I do.”

  She twisted her dishrag in her hands, stared at it and chewed on her lip. Joe wondered what she was thinking and whether or not anyone had spoken to her about Jesus before.

  “You know, Cinnamon, you’re always welcome to come to my church sometime. It’s very laid back. We meet right on the beach.” And just to make sure she didn’t get the wrong idea, he added, “I could introduce you to some of the other kids there your age.”

  She rolled up the white towel and hit him with it in the arm. “You sound like my dad. I’m not a child, you know. I’ll turn twenty in a few months.”

  “Well, just know you’re welcome. Anytime.” There. He’d extended the offer. Maybe someday she would show up. He was unsure what else he could do and not cross some sort of imaginary boundary line. He was possibly crossing one already. But, he considered Cinnamon a friend in addition to his employee. Besides, were there really any boundary lines when doing the Lord’s work was concerned?

  She nodded, a wistful look crossing her features, before returning to her usual perky self. “Joe, tell me more about Goldie.”

  Perky and nosy, to be precise.

  He grabbed another crimson coffee mug and filled it from the fresh pot of decaf. “Don’t you think it’s time we get back to work?”

  She rolled her eyes and waved her arms around the empty coffee shop. “Hello? We don’t have any customers right now. Good grief, Joe. You’re such a guy. I’m not asking you to share your deepest darkest feelings, although your reluctance to talk about her right now speaks volumes.”

  Joe sipped his coffee and tried to ignore her raised eyebrows.

  “One thing. Just tell me one thing about her.” Clearly she wasn’t going to relent.

  “All right, one thing.” Joe tried to inject some authority into his voice. Although at this point, he’d probably lost whatever power he’d once had over the conversation. “Then I’m disappearing into my office while you experiment with some more new coffee drinks. OK?”

  Cinnamon held up her right hand. “OK. Scout’s honor.”

  “Hmm. I didn’t realize the scouts were allowing nose rings these days.” He just couldn’t resist.

  She jammed a hand on her hip. “I’m waiting. One thing. You promised.”

  “OK, OK. I was just teasing.” Joe paused, a warm sensation coming over him, like a tender embrace. There were a million things about Goldie he could share—countless little details he’d treasured over the years. The types of things other people may not even notice. But he’d taken each and every one and saved it in his memory for moments like this one. He realized he wasn’t telling Cinnamon about Goldie because she’d pestered him. He wanted to talk about Goldie. “She likes to wear scarves.”

  “Scarves?” Cinnamon’s hand flew to her neck. “Like knitted winter scarves?”

  “No. Silk scarves, like you see women wearing all the time in old movies. Sometimes she wraps one around her ponytail and other times knotted around her purse. I’ve seen them woven through the belt loops of her jeans before, too.” The last one he’d seen her wear was deep purple and it had caused her blue eyes to look almost lavender. When he closed his eyes, he could still see her lilac gaze peeking at him from behind blonde curls.

  Cinnamon cocked her head, once again sending the nose ring into a dazzling fit. “That’s so retro. And pretty cool.”

  “Yea, I think it’s pretty cool, too.” He frowned, the warm feeling in his heart now tinged with sadness. “I haven’t seen her wear one since her grandfather died.”

  “I’ll bet she’ll start wearing them again. You know, when she’s feeling more like her normal self again.”

  “You’re probably right.” Joe pushed off from the counter where he’d been resting his elbows, and whistled toward the dog bed. “C’mon Java, let’s go do some paperwork.”

  Cinnamon’s gaze followed the big Husky as he trotted toward him. “Joe?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m sorry about the way I acted when you first told me about Bliss. Giving Goldie the dog was the right thing to do. It was a brave, bold move.” She winked. “And the right one.”

  Joe took a dog biscuit from one of his pockets and offered it to Java. He smiled. “I think so, too.”

  ef

  “Well, it’s not a casserole. That’s for sure.” Peggy watched Bliss tumble head over heels, as she charged across the living room and tackled Goldie’s slipper.

  Goldie squealed and, much to the Cavalier’s delight, kicked off the shoe. The pup shook it in her jaws with fury, and then collapsed on top of the pink fuzz.

  The post-funeral crowd had thinned to only the three women sitting in the den—Goldie, Peggy and Eve. Well, technically it was four if you counted the spaniel.

  “I cannot believe he brought you a dog.” Eve stared at Bliss as if she were an alien from outer space. “I mean, what was he thinking?”

  “I, for one, think it’s adorable. I think he is adorable.” Peggy clutched her heart for emphasis. “Honestly, Goldie. That young man is a keeper.”

  Goldie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning in tentative agreement. “I’m not keeping him. I don’t even have him.”

  Eve lifted a brow at the romping Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. “I beg to differ.”

  “What?” Goldie’s gaze flitted back and forth between the two women. She waved a hand in Bliss’s direction. “This doesn’t mean anything. He’s a friend. Nothing more.”

  It didn’t escape her notice that a week ago, she wouldn’t have even referred to him as a friend. He was an acquaintance at best.

  Or so she thought.

  “That,” Peggy pointed a finger at the dog, now nestled between Goldie’s feet with her head resting serenely on Goldie’s toe, “is not your typical ‘friendly’ gesture. I didn’t see anyone else bring you a dog today. Did you, Eve?”

  “Oh sure,” she said with an eye roll. “There are about 15 of them or so piled on the dining room table next to the casseroles. Shall I put them in the freezer next to the other leftovers?”

  Peggy and Eve collapsed into a fit of giggles.

  “Don’t you pay any attention to them, Bliss.” Goldie scooped the dog into her arms and nestled her cheek into the downy, soft fur. “No one’s going to put you in the freezer.”

  “Oh. My. Gosh.” Eve’s eyes widened as she watched Goldie snuggle with her new dog. “You’re keeping it, aren’t you?”

  “Of course.” Goldie held Bliss in the protective crook of her arm. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Maybe because your pal, your buddy, your ‘friend’ Joe, dumped it in your lap without even asking if you wanted a dog.” She flailed her arms around and Bliss flinched. “It was a sweet gesture, but you shouldn’t feel obligated to keep the dog just because he gave it to you.”

  “Her,” Goldie corrected. “She’s not an it. She’s a her.”


  “Whatever. You get the picture. All I’m saying is you are not required to keep that dog.” Eve pointed at the Cavalier, a look of disgust creeping into her features.

  “I know.” Goldie laid a hand on Bliss’s back as the pup curled into a ball and her eyelids fluttered shut. “But she needs a home. And I need…”

  Goldie paused. What exactly, did she need? Above all, she needed the comfort of knowing she wasn’t all alone in her grandfather’s house. She needed to finally talk to God about all she was feeling. She needed to know she still mattered. She needed a reason to get up in the morning. Bliss took care of all these needs. Except the God part. “…I need her.”