Adelaide's P.O.V
Its been approximately ten days since I first saw Sofia. I honestly did not expect it to take this long to actually convince Mr. Riccardo.
At present, I was walking down the street after meeting up with them as I started recalling my efforts these past few days.
At first, I was taken by surprise when the following day Sofia called me and informed me about how Mr. Riccardo didn't wish to continue with the café. Although I understand the changes which I mentioned through the mail must've been extremely hard to fully accept as a part-owner of the café but, I thought I had felt more passion and lingering feelings from his end. So, after long continuous one-on-one meetings along with some emotional connection and negotiations on either end, we finally signed the rental-agreement contract.
I smiled as I dialled Benjie's number.
"What is it?"- He spoke as soon as he picked up the call.
"Nothing too great but, are you free tonight? If you are let's go grab some drinks. It's on me tonight." -I replied all the while hoping he ain't too busy.
"The contract signing must've gone well, I'm assuming?" -his surroundings spoke louder than him.
"You must be busy right now. There's a lot of background noise. We'll talk at night. Come to my place once you are done." -I spoke before cutting the call with a quick 'see you soon'.
I reached home in no time and quickly started searching for reference materials. I had proposed re-modelling the café as the interior had gotten pretty old and the café's vibe didn't match the present atmosphere that people would anticipate but, re-modelling it keeping in mind Mr. Riccardo's homely warm idea wasn't as easy as it sounded.
I went through so many designs, collections, patterns and furniture that the passage of time didn't even strike me. After finally eliminating tons of options, I came down to three basic infrastructure or café outlines.
"I hope Mr. Riccardo doesn't reject them all." -I spoke to myself as I sighed.
The doorbell rang catching my attention. I wondered who it could possibly be this early in the afternoon until I realised it was already eight in the evening. As I was thinking about how fast time flies, my attention was moved to the intercom.
"Open the door already!" -I heard Benjie whine.
Opening the door, I welcomed his rants.
"How could you call a person home and make them wait at the door!"
It seemed as though he was partly fuming with rage and partly with expectations.
"Don't tell me you're going dressed like that." -he said embracing my best possible informal outfit used formally.
"What's wrong with this?" -I questioned him.
"Maybe, EVERYTHING?!" -he replied with an expression that read 'I'm surprised you had to actually ask.'
"But it's comfortable, plus we're going to a bar right?" -I said while looking down at my lavender hoodie and black jeans. I mean it's oddly chilly these days.
"I thought we're gonna party! Go all out at the pub! Now you make me look like I'm over-dressed."
His response caused me to giggle. Or maybe convert my crazy held back laughter into a suppressed giggle. Benjie was surely over-dressed. He wore a black shirt, black jeans accompanied by yet another black item, his leather jacket. We surely looked like we would stand out in either place.
"It's fine, isn't it? I mean many people at a bar look like us. Let's just go." -I spoke, barely composing myself. Although inaudible, I just had a feeling that he probably was self-ranting.
We reached in no time. There was a fine retro-bar not too far from the central road which just sucked us in. The interior was as perfect as the entrance seemed. We took a seat by the counter and the design as well as its set-up was so mesmerizing and organised that I found it hard to actually describe its beauty in words.
We decided to simply go light on the night and ourselves by ordering a simple dinner and red wine, as we both had work to attend to the following day. We spoke about random topics, work progress, random struggles and finally about... family.
"You started the café for you're..."
I cut him off.
"Mother... Yes..."
I didn't know why I was tearing up besides being not of a completely sane mind. Or maybe it was the traces of alcohol taking effect. Taking a sip I continued, knowing that Benjie didn't have anything to say.
"I don't know if I feel emotional because I finally understand Papa's pain of losing her or whether it's cause I actually wanted to feel her love and presence." I sniffed as I looked back to the times when I asked several questions to Papa relating to mama's absence.
"What's the real reason you're starting this?" -he inquired as he examined my stance.
"Maybe atonement? Papa says Mama died because the pregnancy made her weak. So it's my fault regardless of how much it was claimed otherwise. I thought maybe I could; I could you know, continue or carry forward her dream. She adored the café. She... only cared about the café after all. 'Are there enough cookies?' 'Are there enough ingredients for tomorrow?' Those are all I have heard her say. The very few days I spent with her after her hospitalization, they all flew by as I watched her bake and cook all day. I understood later that she did it all for me and for the people who weren't ready to let go of her, she wanted me to have delicacies that she personally made, she wanted me to be healthy unlike her, but... all I wanted at that time was her direct love and attention. As much as I regret not cherishing those days, I also regret not fully remembering her in her entirety. I couldn't even recall her face until I found her pictures."
I sighed before continuing.
"I guess besides all of that, I want to know what drove her to be so dedicated towards the café. I want to feel and understand her through my own experiences."
As I finished my long sentimental speech, I chugged the remaining wine and set the glass down.
"You know what's funnier?" -I asked Carson as I felt myself smile like a possible creep.
"Hmm?" -his response showed how attentive he was. His face showed how he was being careful with his words.
"I wasn't even their daughter."