Compasses, and other Coffee Shop Encounters

NOTE: The following is a fictional short story exploring how cultural expectations of a thriving, healthy life bump up against what it means to celebrate.

Oliver was just grabbing his coffee from the end of the counter, scrolling through all the emails he hadn’t answered yet, when someone called his name.

“Oliver! Hey!”

He looked up through the morning rush of people and scanned the tiny shop. Daniel waved again, and he slid through the crowd of people on their phones, waiting for coffee, to join him by the window.

“Hey! Daniel! My god, how long’s it been?”

They slapped each other on the back and Oliver nearly lost his coffee. He set it down safely on the windowsill and shook his head. Daniel grinned and slipped his phone into his back pocket.

Oliver had worked with Daniel at the same company about five years ago. Their desks were in the same area, and they were the only men working in the HR department at the hospital, so they’d become friendly early on. Maybe not the kinds of friends who played pickleball on the weekends, but he’d had Daniel and his wife over a handful of times, and his wife had gotten on with Jeanine fairly well. Jeanine had asked him just the other day whatever happened to what's-his-name from the hospital.

“Daniel?” he’d responded absently, on his way out the door. “I don’t know. Lost contact, I guess. I think he’s working in cybersecurity now. I’ll be home late tonight, love you.”

Even though it’d only been a few years, Oliver might not have recognized Daniel if he hadn’t waved. He’d grown his hair out and had lost some weight, and was that gray in his hair? Oliver resolved to ask Jeanine to look for any gray when he got home. He dyed it every few months, but you could never be too sure. As he scanned Daniel up and down, there was some memory that was trying to make itself known, but he didn’t know what.

“How have you been?” he asked Daniel. “What’s it been, five years?”

“Maybe,” Daniel replied. “I’m doing alright. New job is a bit closer to home, and I get to be out of an office and work more around the whole building. I’m up for promotion soon, so Hallie and I are going out to celebrate tonight. What are you up to? Still at the hospital?”

“Ah, no,” Oliver replied casually. “I ended up leaving not long after you and I found a tech job downtown. Hours are worse but it pays a lot better.”

“Good for you,” Daniel said, and he sounded like he meant it. “And you’re looking great, too. Going back to the gym?”

Oliver was pleased he noticed. “Yeah, I got into it a few years back. And Jeanine has me on these supplements and a new food service that’s been working out. The gym was further away, but we finally sprung on the Lincoln and its range–”

“Oh, I remember you talking about that!” Daniel said, and there wasn’t a hint of jealousy in his voice. “That’s great, man. And Jeanine is well?”

“Yeah, she actually just got a promotion over at the agency, so I’m taking her to Bora Bora next month.”

“That all sounds wonderful.”

In that moment, Oliver realized what he’d been forgetting. “Hey,” he said, “I think I saw on Facebook, maybe, but did your mom recently pass away?”

At that, some of the light in Daniel’s eyes dimmed. “Ah, yes. That’s right. She was sick for a while, but she wasn’t in pain in the end. The service was a few months ago.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Oliver said, and he meant it. He’d lost his own father a few years ago, and there was one moment, in the worst of it, that he’d inexplicably thought of Daniel, and wanted to call him. He thought that Daniel would know what to do or what to say. But he hadn’t called.

“Thank you,” Daniel replied.

“If I can ask,” Oliver hesitated, looking at his watch, “how are you managing it? The grief of it all. I’m not critiquing or anything but you’re celebrating being up for promotion, tonight with your wife.” When he’d lost his dad, he’d gone to work as normal, but every waking hour spent outside that was filled by him in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Daniel shrugged. “I mean, it’s not that it isn’t hard. I miss her every day. I don’t know if I’m handling it better than anyone else would.”

“I don’t know about that,” Oliver said. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, but he followed the same instinct that told him Daniel was someone to call in an emergency. “You’ve always had this…centering about your life.”

“And nothing disrupts that quite like death,” he responded, and Oliver had to laugh a little at that. “But I think I know what you’re talking about,” Daniel continued. “We talked a little bit when we worked together about my faith. It’s not just something I believe in—God takes over my whole life. It’s like…” he added, perhaps seeing incomprehension on Oliver’s face, “like if my heart is a compass, then Jesus is magnetic North. He guides my desires, actions, and life. Everything about life—celebrating a better job, better pay, others I love—is directed by this north. So grief about my mom, it can live side-by-side with my happiness about my job, because it’s all pointing toward Jesus. Does that make sense?”

“Sort of,” Oliver replied. He thought he understood it, at least in concept. He’d never been particularly religious, and figured it was a comfort to most people. But this sounded like a common thread, tying a whole life together.

“What’s your magnetic north?” Daniel asked.

Oliver blanked. Several answers came to mind. He loved his wife. He loved his career. He loved having a healthy body. He was a good member of the community. As he cycled through these answers, he realized that none of them sounded solid enough out loud.

His phone began to ring.

“Crap,” he said, “I have to take this. Look, it was great to see you—” he grabbed his coffee and bumped elbows with Daniel. “Text me, and come by sometime for dinner. Jeanine was asking about you the other day.”

“Will do, man,” Daniel replied. “And you think about my question, yeah?”

“I will!” Oliver called over his shoulder as he left the crowded coffee shop. Balancing his latte in one hand, he answered his phone with the other. The call had come right as he’d been about to answer Daniel, that no, he didn’t know.

Thank god for interruptions.