The Coffee Machine

Martin was frightened of the big man, but decided to get between the pair. He saw the woman running toward the store entrance as the bigger man came at him. One blow connected solidly with his chin and everything went dark.

Martin lay in the hospital bed looking up at the ceiling. His face was swollen and cut in places and his mouth hurt terribly. The doctors had said that his ribs would be sore for awhile too, but that none of them were broken. They wanted to keep him in hospital overnight to observe him for a concussion. He remembered the big man swinging at him and he had been afraid. ‘What was I thinking?’ he asked himself. ‘That guy was huge. He could have killed me!’ He could find no way to lie that was not painful. ‘This is just the end to a perfect day,’ he thought. People often mistreated him, but this was the first time he’d been beaten up.

Someone knocked softly at the door to his room. He turned his head and saw the woman from the department store standing in the doorway. Her purse hung from one shoulder and she carried a shopping bag in her opposite hand. She was still wearing her uniform.

“May I come in?” she asked.

“Sure,” he mumbled, finding it hard to speak with his swollen lips and sore jaw.

Self-consciously she entered the room and sat on a chair next to his bed. She looked at him and smiled. Martin thought she had a nice smile.

“My name is Marian,” she began.

Martin found her face almost unrecognizable as her eyes revealed her concern and she smiled at him. He was unsure what to think of the change.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did today. It was very brave of you.” Her voice was gentle. “I was so frightened.”

He tried to think of what to say but his mind had gone blank. She touched his shoulder.

“You don’t need to speak,” she said. “Your mouth looks sore.” She glanced down before looking into his eyes. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before. Stood up for me. Nobody. Ever.” Her eyes became teary.

Martin had never seen a woman look at him like Marion did. His awareness of physical pain dimmed, overshadowed by the growing anxiety deep in his stomach. He searched for the right words but they would not come.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.

Marian smiled again. “I don’t know what to say after the way I treated you in the store this afternoon.” Her voice wavered slightly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really … it’s okay.”

She paused to compose herself then continued. “I asked about you when the police came to the store. They said you were single and they didn’t know who to call.” She hesitated, looked away and then re-focused on his face. “They say you’re getting out tomorrow. I am off tomorrow so I would like to drive you home.”

Startled, Martin began to stammer that that was not necessary. She rested her hand gently on his forearm and smiled.

“I don’t mind. Honestly.” She lifted a box from the shopping bag at her feet. “The store manager said to give you this coffee maker in thanks for what you did today. Maybe when I drive you home tomorrow, we can have a cup of coffee together. If you’re able to drink coffee, that is.”

Martin’s discomfort eased as he looked into her sparkling green eyes. His gaze flickered over her features and he enjoyed the warmth of her expression and soft voice. Even the pain from his injuries seemed to be more distant as he looked at her. He knew he would drink that cup of coffee with her no matter how much his mouth hurt.