And so, it was in this way that they got to know each other, with a brief sentence or two on the busy Mondays, and somewhat longer chats on the quieter Thursdays (depending on how soon the next customer arrived) over the months. And they got to know each other better as they discussed various books, animals, movies, and many other topics, and debated the merits of things such as hot chocolate versus chocolate icecream.

But then a Monday came and went with no sign of Eleanor. David was disappointed, but told himself that she had probably gotten caught up in work and was too busy for their daily chat. But when Thursday came and went, and he still didn't see her friendly face, he got worried.

It was stupid, he knew. She had a life of her own and it wasn't like she owed it to him to come every single Monday and Thursday. Besides, he didn't feel this way when his other regular customers didn't show up.

But there was just something about Eleanor that made him miss her. Her sweet smile, her friendly warmth, her genuine interest in people, her quiet confidence. It wasn't any one thing. It was just her.

It had only been a week without seeing her, but his heart felt the absence of their thought-provoking conversations, and her laughter. Her beautiful laughter. Yes, he missed that the most.

But who am I kidding? He pondered as he finished making a coffee and handed it to the waiting customer, The truth of it is, we're strangers who just happen to see each other on regular basis and occasionally talk. To Eleanor, I'm probably just the cashier/barista at her semi-regular coffee shop. Sure, she's really friendly to me, but she's probably like that to all cashier and shop assistants she encounters.

There was a lull in the steady stream of orders and beverage-making, and David let what he thought was a small sigh escape as he dashed his own hopes.

"Well that was a big sigh. You alright honey?" Debbie asked in her Southern American drawl (which had never quite fully faded despite living in England for over two decades), motherly as ever.

David gave a small smile to his friendly middle-aged co-worker. Deborah was a cheerful, kind lady who had come to the UK in her mid-twenties to do some backpacking and, finding love, had ended up staying in England.

Realising that he hadn't answered her question, he said,
"I'll be alright, thanks for asking though Debbie."

Unconvinced, she put a hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows,
"You'll be alright. But that means you're not alright now. What's wrong honey?"

"Uh- well... I-" he stammered in the way that any bashful young man does when talking about affairs of the heart, before trailing off, his cheeks reddening.

Debbie gave a sly grin,
"This wouldn't happen to do with a certain beautiful, friendly brunette who comes in on a regular basis now would it?"

"Maybe..." he conceded, embarrassed.

"She's pretty cute. Friendly and polite too. I can see why you like her." She encouraged, before amending, "You do like her, right?"

"Well... yeah..." He answered with a shy bob of his head.

"So what's the problem? Just ask her out!"

"Debbie!" David exclaimed, before quietly adding, "It's not that easy..."

Sensing there was more behind this, Debbie kindly asked,
"What is it Honey?"

"It's just." He began, then paused, "It's just Eleanor. Her sweet smile, her friendly warmth, her genuine interest in people. Just her. She's so beautiful and well I'm.... I'm just plain old me."

Debbie put her hands on his shoulders, looking at him squarely,
"Oh honey. You have more about you than you know. You're patient and kind, humble, and I'll be darned if I could find any other man your age with the same integrity. You are a rare gentleman in a crowd of douches, and any girl would be lucky to have you."

David looked down at her, surprise in his eyes,
"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"Really." She gave a firm nod, "and you better believe it!"

He didn't, but it was kind of her to say, so he just gave a small smile before saying,
"Thanks Deb, that means a lot to me."