MASON

There is a ringing of the bell hanging above the door, and, almost immediately, the deep reverberating thrum of bass guitars, which had just been the calm notes of cafe music just seconds before, fills the room. Kailyn must have been waiting right by the stereo for the last customer to leave so she could change the music. I’m counting the till for the end of the day, but I break my focus one second to see Kailyn bounding from the stereo to the front door. She pulls the string on the blinds and they fall into place. There is a click as Kailyn engages the deadbolt.

Kailyn turns towards me and reclines against the door. She tilts her head and places the back of her hand on her forehead, feigning exhaustion. “Finally, this hellish day is over,” she says with more than a bit of flourish.

“Be careful. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” I say chuckling. “Besides, you barely did anything but chat with the cute boys that came in. I was the one making all of the drinks!”

“How dare you,” she retorts putting on certain airs. The show that I’m getting tonight proves just how much her acting classes have been paying off. “Even if that’s true, someone has to entertain our guests,” she says dropping the pretentious voice and returning to her normal, sultry tone.

“Entertainment? Does that happen before or after you ogle them?”

“Ogle? Never. Evaluate? Of course!”

While fun, if not cheeky, the exchange made me lose count of my till. I’ll have to start over. As I begin the count again, Kailyn grabs the broom and tackles that task. Kailyn keeps closing the cafe exciting. My other options are lackluster, being Ted, who is a bore, and Brenda, the owner. Kailyn, on the other hand, has a habit of doing more dancing with the broom than actual sweeping. Like I said, she keeps it exciting.

“Any fun plans tonight, Masy,” she asks using the pet name she gave me the first time we met. At the time, I thought it was weird that she would immediately give me a nickname, but I would come to find out that is how Kailyn is, endearing. If she doesn’t give you a nickname during the first meeting, it probably means she doesn’t like you.

“Nah, I don’t think so. Camille will probably be waiting up to make sure I get home okay. She’s pretty busy with her internship, so I don’t want her to stay up too late.”

“Are you sure? I’ll be heading to O’Rourke’s if you want to join. I think Trina will be there, too!”

As if Trina being there is meant to be an incentive. The last time I saw her, she “accidentally” poured her drink on me. I don’t think there was anything I did to justify Trina pouring her drink on me, at least not that I can remember, rather it’s a matter of us not liking each other at all. Wanting to avoid any potential gin and tonic downfalls tonight, I tell Kailyn I’ll be passing this time. Kailyn pouts as she makes further cursory passes with the broom, which do little to clean the debris on the floor.

A few minutes pass and it seems Kailyn’s cleaning efforts are even lower than usual. “Hey, why don’t you head out to O’Rourke’s? I can finish closing up,” I say seeing her lack of enthusiasm towards sweeping the floor of the cafe.

Kailyn immediately perks up. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave all of this for you to do.” Her question was clearly perfunctory based on the fact that she was already removing her apron as she asked.

“Not a problem. I’m almost done with the till, then it’ll just be a matter of finishing sweeping,” I say eyeing the floor, which only causes a slight blush on Kailyn’s face, “and mopping,” I continue. Luckily, Brenda expects only expects inventory to be done on Saturdays, so I won’t have to do that tonight.

“Thank you so, so much, Masy!” I hear as Kailyn bombards me with a hug. I should have been expecting this attack as Kailyn isn’t one to hesitate with showing her gratitude, which is in stark contrast to me. I have been slowly getting used to the hug that accompanies the end of a closing shift with Kailyn to the point where I hug back; however, the first few months were me awkwardly standing there as she squeezed me, nearly to death.

Kailyn releases me from her vice-like “hug” and kisses me on the cheek. “You know I only give those out to the best of my friends, right? Think of it like a good luck charm.” She says playfully with a wink.

This causes a large laugh to escape from me. “I know, I’m so lucky to be so blessed.” I exaggeratedly bow. Only recently has Kailyn begun to leave me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I can’t say it has brought much luck my way, but has been nice to be able to have this ritual if nothing more than to feel closely with someone.

“Everything okay, Masy? You look like you zoned out for a second there.”

“Yep! Just thinking about all the sweeping that hasn’t been done,” I say jokingly and diverting from the actual thoughts running through my head.

“Okay good,” she says smiling. She begins to walk away from me, “I’m going to get changed, then head out,” she calls back to me.

“Sounds good. Let me know before you go out the back.”

With that, I’m left to the beating of the music that Kailyn put on. I have to start counting the till a third time, but with the absence of Kailyn’s excited energy, I find that counting is going much more smoothly. Within a couple of minutes, I finish counting the till and pick up the broom. I pick up where Kailyn left off, which is to say, I start sweeping the floor. About ten minutes later and half of the cafe having been swept, Kailyn emerges from the bathroom.

Instead of the flannel and jeans that Brenda requires us to wear as a uniform, Kailyn has donned a tight, black blouse, over which she has layered a denim jacket. She also has a long, red skirt flowing behind her as she trots back to the front of the cafe to ask me how she looks. Kailyn rocks this quasi-bohemian look.

“Amazing as always,” I say. “About to head out?”

“Uh-huh,” she grunts back due to her having the strap of her purse in her mouth as she rummages around in her bag. She pulls out her phone and begins to type aggressively. “Trina is already there, so I have to hurry. Can I help with anything else, Masy?”

“Don’t be such a dad, Masy. It’s not a good look on you.” She retorts and sticks her tongue out.

“I wouldn’t be if I didn’t have to worry you’d end up like last time!” The last time we went out, Kailyn had more than her share and she had ended up becoming very familiar with the toilet at my apartment.

“Masy,” she drags the “y” out for about four syllables. “It was only one time!”

“One time my ass!” I say, which ends with both of us laughing. “Have fun and text me.”

“Fine.” She says grumpily, again drawing upon her acting training. Her tone only belied by the smile beginning to spread. “Let me know when I can cover for you.” She begins to walk towards the back and I follow.

“Will do,” I say as we enter the kitchen in the back, and eventually the back door.

Kailyn opens the door and leaves, only turning back briefly to yell bye. I close the door behind her and lock it. I walk back to the front of the cafe and pick up sweeping where I left off. As I continue the strokes, they begin to line up with the beat of the music. It’s not the type of music that I would have picked, but it’ll work. After another ten or so minutes and three songs later, I finish sweeping.

I return to the kitchen and place the broom back in its place in the closet. I pull out the mop and its accompanying bucket. I add a splash of the wholesale cleaning solution that Brenda is so fond of—it is apparently half the price of the brand name solutions—and move the bucket to the nearby sink. Pulling the retractable faucet and placing it over the edge of the bucket, I’m about to begin running the hot water when I hear what sounds like knocking on the glass at the front of the cafe. Was it just a figment of my imagination? My attention returns to the handle of the sink when I definitely hear knocking on the window. I can’t see the storefront from the kitchen, so I walk to the doorway leading to the cafe front and stick my head out around to take a peek. I look towards the front window and I see someone with a black hood over their head. I can’t make out if I know the person or not, so I grab the nearest thing I have to me, which is a wood block attached to one of the bathroom keys. Slowly, I make my way to the door trying to see if I can identify who this is. Then, as I am about two feet from the door, the person lifts their head, and I see that it’s Kailyn.

Jesus Christ. I unlock the door and let her in. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I forgot my charger and it was quicker just to come to the front of the store.” She says quickly. She runs behind the counter and grabs her charger and returns to the door. “Okay, I’m gone for good now, but one more peck before I go,” she gives me a second good luck kiss on the cheek. “See you later!”

“You too!” I yell behind her as she runs down the street. I close the front door and lock it again. Recovering from the shock, I take a few deep breaths. Once my breathing returns to normal, I return to the kitchen and begin filling the mop bucket again. The hot water sloshes into the bucket and, almost instantly, the cleaning solution bubbles, threatening to spill over the sides of the bucket. Trying to prevent an overflow, I turn the water down slightly to let the bubbles recede. After about twenty seconds, the mop bucket is full. I steer the bucket from the kitchen to the front of the cafe and dip the mop.

After about 30 minutes, the cafe floor looks like new, or at least as new as the floor of a twenty-five-year-old cafe can look when it hasn’t had new floors in its lifetime. Back in the kitchen, I tip the bucket into a basin sitting low to the floor, which drains directly to the alleyway outside the building—it’s unlikely that this is to code, but the building inspector hasn’t cited us for it yet to my knowledge. The, now gray, soapy water slowly swirls down the drain in the basin. This is one of my favorite parts of closing. Discarding the dirty water down the drain feels like I’m able to just have negative emotions wash away from me. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help it. As I’m lost in thought, a familiar sound strikes throughout the cafe—the rapping of knuckles on the window front.

Thinking that Kailyn has forgotten something else, I take my time lowering the mop bucket to the floor. Then, I leisurely walk to the front of the store. Looking at the window of the cafe, I expect to see Kailyn huddling in the rain; instead, there was no one. Not a single person standing there and no explanation for the tapping I heard on the glass. Thinking it had been my imagination, I return to the kitchen and finish cleaning.

Now that the closing tasks are finished, I go to the register and clock out at 2:00 a.m. I wasn’t expecting this late of a night, but oh well. Out of the corner of my eye, it looks as if a shadow moved in front of the window of the cafe, but when I turn my focus to the window, there doesn’t seem to be anything there. My mind is really getting the better of me tonight.

I quickly go to the door and make sure that it is locked. Confirming that it is, I wind my way back through the cafe front to the kitchen, then to the back door. I exit, then turn around to lock the door. I jiggle the handle to ensure that this door is locked as well. Then, I turn toward the end of the alley and begin my way home. I make it to the end of the alley and turn right hearing toward my apartment.