The door of the coffee shop had a wind chime shaped like a Lucky Cat, which jingled cheerily as the door was opened, with the Lucky Cat bumping into the Gold ingot.
A young mother came in with her child. The adult was drenched from the rain, drenched and bedraggled, while the child was wrapped in the adult's coat, the clothes underneath dry, only the hems of the pants wet.
"Sweetheart, are you cold?"
The child was not accustomed to the cold and shivered violently, "So cold."
The child's mother took off his wet clothes and wiped him down with a paper towel.
A towel was handed over.
The child's mother looked up and first saw a distinctively boned hand, with long joints, neatly trimmed nails, not frail but very beautiful.
The owner of the hand said, "It's unused, clean."
The child's mother hurriedly took it, "Thank you."
"No need for thanks."
Wyatt Wright returned to his seat and placed a tray with hot chocolate in front of Rae Bennett. She took a cup down and pushed the tray toward him. The beverage was hot, and after holding it for a while, her hands were warmed.
The desserts she had bought earlier were untouched. She took them out, unwrapped two spoons, and placed them on the edge of the tray.
She tasted one first, the sweetness just right.
She pushed the unused spoon toward Wyatt Wright, "Do you want to try?"
He said, "No need."
The hot chocolate in front of him remained untouched, with the piano music reaching a climax, the rhythm becoming raucous, yet he sat quietly, watching the rain outside the window.
Rae Bennett was watching him, her gaze unabashed.
The dessert seemed to taste even sweeter.
At the next table, the young mother was wiping her child's face with a towel. A piece of tissue paper, tucked inside the towel, fell out and drifted to the floor, a string of eleven digits—a telephone number—written on it.
The child's mother did not notice.
The child picked up the tissue and threw it into the trash can.
Then, Rae Bennett glanced at the trash can, just a glance, and continued to gaze at her beauty.
His profile was indeed handsome.
Suitable for a stolen kiss.
She pondered the feasibility of stealing a kiss in broad daylight.
The rain outside the window had lightened a bit, with the large waves in the puddles on the road turning into small ripples. A figure shuttled on the sidewalk, running after a green bear balloon.
That person was using a leather jacket to bind his right arm, wet as a drowned rat.
"Mommy, look!" The child, seated by the window of the coffee shop, pointed outside, "It's that uncle!"
It was the uncle whose leather jacket had been stained by his squid.
The child tilted his head, puzzled, "He's so weird, why is he running after a balloon?"
The child's mother shook her head and said she didn't know.
The man finally caught up with the balloon tangled on a utility pole, looked around, then ran into the coffee shop.
With the balloon tucked under his armpit, he approached the child, a "red mark" from a cigarette burn visible on his forehead.
The child, previously scolded by the man, was very frightened and quickly hid behind his mother.
The man pulled the balloon's string and pushed it toward the child, "I'm making it up to you."
Both mother and child dodged backward.
The adult said, "No need."
The child also shook his head vigorously.
The man, impatient, shook the water off his hair and spoke gruffly, "When I say take it, you should——" Suddenly, the corner of his eye caught a shadow, and the words on his lips immediately halted, his tone suddenly gentle, "Take it."
The child looked at his mother, then timidly reached out his hand and caught the string of the balloon.
The man had a change of heart and was surprisingly gentle, "I was wrong earlier, sorry about that."
The child's mother: "..."
"Do you want to forgive me?"
The child: "..."
The man, with one dislocated arm not yet set and the other just set and still shaking, his lips white with pain, forehead sweating, eyes darting around sneakily, his expression sheepish, "Forgive me or not?"
The child's mother: "..."
The child: "..."
The mother and child were both utterly shocked!
The man gritted his teeth with a grinding sound, "Forgive me, please, I'm asking... I'm begging you."
The child peeked out from behind his mother, "Okay."
The man let out a long sigh, "You've already forgiven me." The rest of his statement was unclear who he was afraid might not hear him, super loud, "Don't come looking for me anymore!"
Having said that, he took off running as if a ghost were chasing him from behind.
"Mommy, that uncle is so strange."
The little kid's mother guessed that the man's brain must have been fried by the heavy rain.
The rain had stopped outside the window.
Wyatt pulled his gaze back, "Are you finished eating?"
Rae wiped her mouth with a napkin, "I'm done."
He stood up and cleaned up the used napkins and spoons into the trash can, "Let's go."
"Okay."
Wyatt went to get the umbrella, while Rae followed behind him. She turned her head back and her glance collided with the beauty at the cash register.
The Lucky Cat on the wind chime touched the Gold Ingot again, tinkling away.
Rae walked out of the café, proceeded for a while, then stopped, "I left my wallet on the seat, wait here for me."
She left Wyatt under a locust tree and ran back into the café.
Their table had already been cleared, the wallet was on the seat.
Rae picked up the wallet and approached the cash register, "Miss."
The beauty at the register lifted her eyes.
"152****5921." Rae said in a good-natured manner, "Is this your number?"
The beauty, who had failed to flirt and was caught instead, was not embarrassed, "Sorry, I must have placed something in the wrong spot by accident."
Rae smiled amiably, "It's okay, my boyfriend doesn't mind, but," she spoke earnestly without a hint of confrontation, "I think the digits in your number are a bit unlucky, don't you think?"
The beauty didn't think so and gave Rae a very unfriendly, provocative look. It didn't matter if she had a boyfriend; even married couples could divorce.
Rae couldn't be bothered to waste words with her. She made a call and reported the number with the same casual tone one would use to chat about family matters, "Cancel this number."
Doghead was scratching a couch on the other end, "Sweetheart, do you think I'm omnipotent or what?"
Sweetheart asked considerately, "Is half an hour enough?"
Doghead pounded his chest, "...It's enough."
Sweetheart, "Thank you."
Doghead: I thank you! Thank your whole family!
The beauty at the cash register was dumbfounded throughout.
Rae ended the call, reminding the beauty, "Remember to check with a phone call after half an hour." She smiled faintly, "No need to thank me."
The beauty's face turned green.
Rae walked out of the café, her mood lifted, and approached the locust tree.
"Let's go."
Wyatt's eyes moved from the fallen leaves on the ground to her face and lingered for a few seconds, but he said nothing.
He was a man skilled at keeping secrets, his wavy eyes best at hiding his emotions. With a slight narrowing of his gaze, he gave you a hazy, ambiguous look; and as you kept staring, you got lost in it, drunkenly forgetting to probe any deeper.
He led the way, with slow and leisurely steps.
Rae followed behind him.
Before the cloudburst, a batch of hydrogen balloons had been blown away from a vendor by the wind. After the rain, some of the balloons had drifted far off, others caught and hanging.
There was one on the locust tree, pink with a cat printed on it. Rae thought it looked a lot like Simba, with a very proud and noble posture.
She tiptoed to reach out for it, hopping in place a few times, yet still couldn't touch the balloon's string.
"Wyatt."
Wyatt turned back.
She pointed upward, "Help me get that."
The leaves of the locust tree had fallen one by one, silently carpeting the sidewalk in shades of yellow and green.
Wyatt first looked up at the tree, then turned back to her side. He didn't need to tiptoe, for his hand reached the string of the hydrogen balloon with ease.
After pulling it down, he handed it to her.
She thanked him with a bright smile, "Thank you."
"Do you have any change?"
He continued walking forward.
Rae flipped through her wallet, "No."
He took out a twenty from his wallet, lifted his chin with a motion, pointing toward the street corner ahead, "Go pay for it."
The vendor who had lost a bunch of hydrogen balloons was at the street corner ahead.