Mr Gingernuts - Part One

I've not writen anything for years! RL has held challenges. But Charis provided Plunny and the mood struck me, will finish it off later:



He couldn't work it out. Bren wiped the counter again, knocking and straightening the little tub of stirrers by rote. The woman, after pointedly clearing her throat in a way that did not sound happy asked if there was any chance of a coffee today. It woke Bren from his daydream. Well, it distracted him long enough for him notice her existance and be polite.

'Sure, sorry, mind was miles away, what can I get you?'
'Double espresso, soy milk, raspberry white chocolate syrup and an apple please' she spoke curtly, the please a bullet shot. Bird shifter he thought, her hair was sleeked down smooth, but her manner had the air of ruffled feathers, her long neck and elegant poise suggested Swan.

'Coming right up' he gave his best winning smile and got to it, slipping her an Apple crumble cookie to sweeten the deal. She looked at it as if the Cinnamon Sugar was Arsenic and the calories would hunt her down. Which was a bit much, they were good, Bren knew they were good, he baked them himself. She snatched it up though, and, after a glug of her coffee managed a fleeting smile, sailing back out of the cafe her smart shoes clacking on the old wooden floor beams.

Bren sighed. They got a lot of commuters in the early morning, pressed buisness suits and sharp manners. He prefered the casual shoppers, the old stalwarts, the young families when they were behaving, romancing couples, lone figures seeking sanctuary. And Mr Gingernuts.

Abby had named him that, they'd giggled, speculated, and it stuck. The man's hair was a deep rich auburn with darker streaks, his skin a carmel tan with just a tease of freckles; he either spent a lot of time outdoors or was born with really good genes. His jeans were painted on, caressing a very nice grippable butt, and his voice resonant...wait his voice!

'Another coffee please'
'Almond milk, hazelnut syrup?' Bren blinked rapidly and failed not to stare, the man as always seemed oblivious to his interest.
'Please, and crumpets today' it had been English muffins yesterday, but one thing didn't change. 'Peanut butter?'
'yes please' his lips curved in a light smile. Not that Bren was staring. Much.
'I'll bring them over'

Bren could talk to anyone, he chatted with his elderly customers; could name all of Hilda's grand-Owlets, always remember to ask what that Dora's youngest Danny-dog was up to in college this week. Old grumpy Badger Ben even brought him fresh produce from his allotment and had called him 'a good lad' last week. He made the little ones laugh, more than one frazzled parent had told him they came here as much for the calm he brought as the great coffee and cookies. But this man, this man stole his speach.

What was it? Abby, friend, confident and buisness partner, teased him mercilessly. Bren couldn't work it out. The man was ok looking, average height and a little chubby all told. Abby had pointed this out; Bren had been stuck on 'eyes of onyx' sounding, she said, like an adorkably infatuated teenager writing a bad fantasy romance, badly. Which wasn't in the least bit accurate. He was in his late thirties thank you very much!

He had presence. Bren decided, following resolve and adding one of his new batch of cookies to the tray. It was a day for free cookies, bleak and drizzly out, tentative and dreamy within. Mr Gingernuts exuded power, somehow. There was an assuredness about him, sense of knowing about his gaze. Not that he ever seemed to know the effect he had on Bren. Bren had once seen the Bear clan nod to him differentially then sit quiet, he'd been coming from the back kitchen with a wet rag ready to whip big rowdy butts into shape, but they'd nodded at the corner table then sat meek as the day, even remembered their please and thank yous.

A wry smile and Mr Gingernuts had returned to the big dusty book he was reading. he had a fancy new tablet too but more often wrote or sketched in a large hardbound book, as he was doing now.

'Coffee and crumpets' Bren smiled trying to catch a glimpse. It looked like the sketch of a person but his customer sighed, nostrils flaring a little and closed the book, pushing it along the table before he could see.

'I added a cookie, made some mixed nuts ones I thought you might like' oh hell, make it obvious he'd baked with this man in mind. They both stared at the little plate, glossy peanuts and darker almonds pushing through light fluffy batter.
'How much?'
'Oh no! it's from me!'

The cookie was studied again, which was heavy consideration for a little treat.
'Perhaps you could join me?'

Bren sat in the indicated chair.