As I walked down Ninety Second Street, the smell of damp leaves and coffee filled my nostrils. I saw the orange leaves of large oak trees falling, as I approached the single building at the end of this quiet street. The old wooden sign “Oakers Coffee” welcomed me home. The bitter coffee smell, worn leather seats, and yellow lighting was my second home since high school. I was twenty, I lived with my parents, but I didn’t regret a single day I spent inside Oakers. Mr. Kronkle, an old man with a warm smile welcomed me from the counter “Chris, the regular?” I nodded and sit down.

I looked at the grandfather clock across the room reading 10am, and catch a glimpse of my reflection. I saw my ratty red hair, patchy beard, and broken glasses, and laughed. Sometimes I could hardly recognize myself when I went so long without a mirror. Just as Mr. Kronkle brought me my black coffee, Megan arrived.

“Yo, Meg, how’s it's flippin” I asked.

“It flips” Megan said as she whipped her hair out of her face.

I loved it when she did that. Megan was the smartest person I knew. She studied earth sciences at the community college we attended. She came to the coffee shop every day to study, and so did I. But honestly, I couldn't study when she was around, so instead I pretended to read, but instead I looked at her muddy Converse.

“Meg, can I get you a cookie?” Mr. Kronkle asked.

“I’ve had a long day.” Meg said in a tired voice.

Mr. Kronkle responded almost immediately “A cookie will help with that.”

“Mr. Kronkle is like a grandfather to me” Meg said after Mr. Kronkle retreated to the back to retrieve a cookie. Ever since Mr. Kronkle had been diagnosed with terminal cancer a year ago, Megan and I had always treasured our time with Mr. Kronkle in the coffee shop.

“Thanks Kronkie donkey” I say when he returned with two cookies.

“Made with love” Mr. Kronkle replies with a wink. “Meg sounds like she needs plenty of love right now.”

Meg and I immediately noticed the cookies do not taste like his normal cookies.

After about an hour I couldn't help but interrupt Meg. Warm giggles bubbled up from my belly, and the vibe of the coffee shop intensified. The rythms in the music vibrated deep in my core, the colors became vibrant, and I felt I could do anything.

“I can really feel the love” I whispered to Megan.

Megan giggles and when her face lifts up I see a big smile across her face. I finally had the courage to ask Megan on a date. She told me she had been waiting for me to finally do it. I noticed the texture in her blond hair, her light red lipstick, and clear complexion. I leaned in, and we kissed. The rest of the night at the coffee shop was nothing short of magical.

We heard Mr. Kronkle “It’s time we close, I hope you guys had a great night!” I walked Megan home and immediately fell asleep.

The next morning, I blinked, a slight head fog clouded my thinking. What happened last night? My mind spun remembering the conversation, the date, and the kiss with Megan. Immediately my cheeks feel hot. I blushed. I had always believed Mr. Kronkle’s coffee was special, but I had never experienced anything like last night. I texted Megan on my old flip phone.

“Yo, what happened last night”

“Idk, I was just about to ask you.” she responded in less than a second, like she was waiting for me to ask.

I figured we needed to talk, so I came back to Oaker’s Coffee, our usual meeting spot, and Megan was already on the bench outside.

“Chris, we’ve know each other for so long. I don’t know what happened last night, but I'm happy.” She said.

I smiled, confused, but happy. I took her arm, and we swung open the door to the coffee shop. Mr. Kronkle welcomed us “The cookies sure seemed to cheer you up. Care for another?” Megan cheerfully agreed. Yet, out of my suspicions, I ask Mr. Kronkle to choose my cookie. I followed him behind the counter, and I catch glimpse of a cabinet left open above the cookies. I see an orange bottle reading “Medical Marijuana” sitting just above the cookies. My eyes shifted down and I caught glimpse of green dust around the cookies. I could imagine Mr. Kronkle’s shaky hands spilling the Marijuana, crossing the room to pick up a broom, and forgetting about the spill before he returned due to his slight case of Alzheimer's.  

I felt my blood pulsing, my face turn red, and my fists clench. I was angry. Mr. Kronkle had drugged me and, my now girlfriend, Megan on accident. I couldn't pass a drug test for at least six months, I couldn't work. I immediately turned around and ran back to Megan, ready to reveal the truth of what had really happened the previous night. But when I returned, something shifted.

I saw Megan smiling, studying some earth science textbook. I felt weight free from my shoulders, pressure flow out of my head, and a feeling of gratitude wash over me. Mr. Kronkle’s blunder had caused us to start our relationship. Mr. Kronkle was a grandfather to me. So I returned to the counter, ask Mr. Kronkle for every cookie he owned, and returned home with Megan. Megan and I continued stopping by Oaker’s Coffee everyday until Mr. Kronkle’s death two years later.