Free Caught Bread Handed by Ellie Alexander

said.
    Mom put the dishes in the sink and joined us at the island. “It smells great. Almost fruity.”
    Andy smiled. His freckled cheeks stretched toward his ears. “Try it.”
    I took a sip of the chunky monkey. It was sweet with a hint of nuts and something else.
    â€œIt is sweet,” Carlos said. Carlos, like most chefs, tends to turn his nose up at anything sugary, but I knew from one taste that our customers were going to be lining up for Andy’s drink. Torte was a bakery, after all, and sometimes dessert can come in a mug.
    â€œWhat am I tasting?” I asked, inhaling the scent. “Banana?”
    Andy nodded. “Yep. Banana, chocolate, and macadamia nut. Chunky monkey, get it?”
    We all laughed. I noticed that Carlos returned his practically full mug to the tray. Stephanie sipped hers. Sterling took a big drink. “It’s really good, man.”
    Mom walked over to Andy and squeezed him around the shoulder. “You’ve done it again. This is so good.” She looked at Carlos. “Andy is more sweet than salty.”
    â€œSuper sweet,” I agreed, taking another drink. Most of Andy’s coffee drinks feature the roast as the star of the show. The chunky monkey was a tad sweeter than our normal offerings, but he had obviously used a nutty roast, which mingled well with the fruity banana and dark chocolate.
    â€œLet’s get it up on the specials board,” Mom said. “It can be our weekend drink special. Which reminds me, I need a new quote to go up there. Anyone feeling poetic this afternoon?”
    On the far wall near the espresso machine we have a chalkboard menu that we update with specials and a rotating Shakespearean quote. The bottom quarter of the chalkboard is reserved for Torte’s youngest customers. Mom keeps a basket with colorful chalk for kids to doodle on the board while their parents savor a morning coffee and crumpet.
    I looked at Sterling. He was staring at his feet. I knew that he had been writing his own poetry. I’d asked him to share it on the board before but he hadn’t been ready. I caught his eye. He gave me a quick head shake. I didn’t push him. He would share it when he was ready, or he wouldn’t.
    Andy shrugged. “Unless you want a quote about football, I’m out.”
    Mom chuckled as Andy returned to the espresso bar. Stephanie shook her head. “Don’t look at me. I’m still asleep.” She walked away with her head hanging down. I’d have to tell her she could have tomorrow morning off. I could handle the Sunday wholesale orders alone.
    Mom clapped her hands together. “Come on, someone must have a quote for me. Sterling?”
    â€œI’ll have to think on that.” He ran his finger along his hummingbird tattoo. “And Carlos wants me to check stock in the fridge with him, right, Carlos?”
    Carlos nodded. “ Sí, I need my young chef to help, is this okay?”
    Mom pretended to be hurt. “Go ahead, go work. I’ll have to come up with something myself.”
    Carlos looked at me to confirm that she was kidding.
    â€œShe’s kidding, go.” I motioned them to the walk-in.
    He paused and reached into his jeans pocket for his phone. “Helen, I thought you would want to see the new photo of Ramiro. He is beautiful, no?”
    Mom held the phone a foot from her face. “I need my reading glasses.” She keeps multiple pairs of reading glasses in a vase on the front counter near the menus. “Just you wait until you hit forty,” she said to me when I asked about the glasses. “Our older customers appreciate being able to read the menu if they forget their glasses.”
    â€œHand me that pink pair, would you, Andy?” She pointed to the vase.
    Andy tossed her a pair of glasses. Mom zoomed in on the photo of Ramiro. She pressed the glasses to the tip of her nose and looked up at Carlos and then back at the phone.