The Foam Between Our Fingers

It was raining, the type of rain that comes on suddenly and drenches you. I tucked my chin under the collar of my coat and made a mad dash for the cafe. Inside I'm greeted by the comforting smell of coffee roasting and steamed milk. To my left there's a lady sipping an espresso and tapping away on her laptop. The cafe is pretty much empty. 

"Hi may I help you?" I wipe rain drops out of my eyelashes. A girl with the deepest red hair I've ever seen is smiling at me from behind the counter. 

"Oh yes. I would like a Hazelnut Vanilla Latte with a shot of Pumpkin and whipped cream. Large." I say fumbling around in my coat pocket for my wallet. 

"Great that will be 5.25." She says. I look up and notice a smattering of freckles across her nose. Which is a contrast to her milk colored skin. I avert my gaze and hand her a ten. 

"It should be just a couple of minutes. What was your name?" She asks handing me back my change. 

"Sahara."

Her lips quirk up. "Pretty name. It matches your features."

"Sorry?" I ask confused as to what she meant. She pours milk into a blender. 

"Well you have tan skin, black hair and hazel eyes. The name is exotic, Eastern just like how you look."

I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks. Not sure why I'm embarrassed. I've always felt unsure about my name. Some days I like, some days I don't. But she hit the nail on the head. Mom is from Morocco. She's good. 

After waiting around a couple of minutes she brings me,  my drink. 

"One Hazelnut Vanilla Latte with pumpkin and whipped cream." She says smiling at me. I smile back. 

"What was your name?" I asked her partly out of curiosity and to be polite. 

"Fern." She says wiping down her area. 

"That's a cool name. Unique." 

"My mom was an aspiring Botanist." she tucks a few stray red strands behind her ear. 

"She isn't anymore?" I asked between sips of my latte. Tasty. She did a great job. 

"No, she kills everything. What is the opposite of a green thumb? Black?"

Funny. Fern has a quick sense of humor. I felt warm and not just from the coffee. They say good conversation can make you feel warm. 

Tucking my wallet back in my pocket I say "Well I guess she grew one thing beautifully." I smile and head toward the door. 

Fern was wiping down the counter with a glow, like a plant thriving in the sunlight. Feeling like I have just spent a day in a warm Spring breeze, I didn't even notice the rain still pouring down.