His pace is swift as he travels towards me down the stairs. Dressed in his daily suit and tie, his hair is newly combed and shines. I heard the shower going only minutes ago upon my arrival home. Oh to be ready for the day in such a short time. Before leaving, he insists on making me a cappuccino. "I've been refining my skills," he says with a smile.
Packing the coffee, he describes the need to clear the line in a rag rather than in the milk. The espresso brews and then the frothing begins. "You hold the steam near the surface of the milk to create little bubbles." I comment on the time it takes and his reply is a simple, "its worth the wait." Milk frothed and espresso steaming from a zebra cup, he holds the carafe high and pours. "The milk reaches the bottom of the espresso because of the distance," and through small movements of his hand he attempts a frothy heart which looks more like a fern leaf.
"There's a lot of love in that cappuccino," he says while tying his shoes. I smile and sip realizing this is the final moment of our morning before we part ways until the evening hours. I tell him he looks handsome, I thank him for the frothy beverage and watch him travel into the hall, down the stairs and outside into the final moments of summer.