Bliss was wrong about the man. He had noticed her, three times in fact, if he counted this one. Devon had come along to the café to have coffee and read the minutes of the latest council meeting in some kind of peace. He had seen her in her car waiting at the traffic lights on the bridge. He had to admit it was the car that first caught his eye, the big black crystal finished Jeep, just the sort of thing he liked. Then he had looked at who was driving it, because it was new, if he was not mistaken.
He had seen Bliss who was looking away to her right at something. Her dark hair was falling in a messy, windswept way from a large tortoiseshell colored hair clip. She was wearing white sunglasses and then she was driving away. Devon had watched and then entered the café. They knew him there, and he always had the same coffee order, paying and taking it out to a table himself. He talked briefly with a couple of the wait staff and the cashier as he paid, about the lovely weather and the prospect of it continuing for the next week. There was a fete and a spring ball in a couple of days and Devon knew they were important events for the town.
He had taken a table facing away from the road and in the shade cast by the café building. He opened the folder containing the minutes he wanted to read, drank some of his coffee, and sighing, started reading. He was angry with some of the decisions taken at this meeting. As he read about them, his feelings grew, although he knew that it was more disappointment than real anger that he felt. He took out his cell phone and rang one of the other council members. Complaining bitterly about the decisions, he spent fifteen minutes on the phone and then drank his coffee down. It was cold and he wanted a pencil. He went back into the café and got more coffee. He borrowed a pencil from the jar of them that the wait staff used and once more went outside to read the minutes. He intended noting his feelings by each point in the document.
Devon had been reading for five minutes when a friend of his, seeing him there, took a seat at the table and they talked about what was happening in their lives for about a half hour.
When his friend had gone Devon sighed and pushed the folder away from himself leaning back in his chair, and looking up at the blue sky, and wisps of cloud that were drifting slowly along. Perhaps he was being too emotional about the council meeting and the decisions after all, because ultimately he cared for, and respected the council members. He pulled the folder close again as he thought about this. His coffee cup rattled as the folder grazed it, and he decided that one more cup would see him through reading the minutes and then he would leave. He got up and gave the pencil back as he paid for this third cup of coffee, the cashier making some joke about how much of the stuff Devon drank.
As he put the cup down and glanced up at the bridge over the river, he saw Bliss again. He knew it was the young woman who had been driving the Jeep. Her hair was still trailing down from its clip, and she was wearing the white square sunglasses. Maybe Wayfarers he thought. Her T-shirt had a scoop neck and skimmed the top of her low cut jeans. The sleeves of the T-shirt reached just down past her elbows. It was a ballet style and Devon knew this. He knew quite a bit about fashion because of his sister Marguerite. This young woman piqued his interest, and he felt sparks of some emotion; she was coming this way. He turned to his table and sat down in front of his folder and coffee cup.
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