Leo Nackers walked with excitement toward the coffee shop on a fine Tuesday in June.  The flowers sang to him in notes of fragrance, as if recycling joy from the sun. A skip in his step accented the click of his dress shoes against clean wide sidewalk, as he rounded the corner at Beakman Street.  As he reached for the door handle of the Streetcar Cafe a car squealed its tires, momentarily stopping him in his tracks.  Two cars were blocking the lanes, both vying for the lane.  Horns were blowing and people yelling.  Leo waved that mess off and walked inside.

The inside of the cafe was old, square wooden tables were only in slightly better shape than the heavy wooden chairs, scratched and nicked up from years of experiences, rumors, laughter and heartbreak shared in this space.  The center counter was semi-circle with shelves of antique coffee and tea pots displayed on either side. A middle aged waitress with a wide smile looked at him and promptly greeted him.

“Well, look at you, handsome!  Why so spiffy today?”

“Ma’am,” he said, with a bow, “I have big news, but Jerry will kill me if I don’t yell him first!”

She raised her eyebrows and nodded toward the back corner where two tables were pulled together and Jerry Pfetzer, Bob Parker and Earl Mason were already waiting. 

“Wowee! Mr Frank Sinatra, eh?”  Bob jabbed.

“I have news.” Leo teased, pausing for dramatic effect before sliding into the hard wooden chair.

“Well are you going to make us beat it out of you er what?” Jerry prodded. “spill the beans!”

Instead of speaking Leo laid a small bank receipt on the table. The guys were used to his “news” equating to not more than a story about his grandchildren or his prized tomatoes from his backyard garden.

“Good Leo,” Bob jabbed, “You remembered to deposit your social security check today?”

“That ain’t social security, men, look closer!”

The guys leaned in and seemed to notice the amount all at once. Before anyone could speak he put his finger over his lips to tell them to be quiet.

“I won the jackpot last night fellas,” Leo said almost under his breath, “and I’m going to go find some place warm and beautiful to live and bring you guys with if you want.”

Unable to hold it in, a chaos of voices all asking questions at once.

“Gentleman,” he stated firmly above the clatter, “My house, tonight, 7 o’clock. Bring your ladies, we have a lot to discuss!” Turning to the waitress, who was watching the commotion in hopes of learning what the news was, Leo nodded at her to let her know he was ready to order. She made her way across the red tiled floor to the table and questioned, “The usual?” With a sly smile.

“Not today, Susie. Today I want the biggest slice of banana cream pie you have!” Leo had been getting the same eggs with toast for nearly 15 years straight so Susie was thrown.

“My, my, you do have a secret! I think you better tell me before I fetch that pie,” she said, “it might help me find a bigger piece!”

“I can’t tell you right now but tomorrow when I come in I will have a big surprise for you and then I will tell you.” Susie raised a curious eyebrow and disappeared through the swinging doors to get him some pie.

Before the guys could bring it up again the Cafe door opened and Randy Sand walked in. Randy owned the apartment complex that shared a property line with Leo. The two of them used to fight every time they saw each other but had stop talking to one another years ago. The dislike seethed between them in and choked the air in the room. Randy was a built like a linebacker and moved clumsily between the small tables until he plopped down at a table by a large picture window. Randy noticed Leo but didn’t offer up his usual snarl. Instead he hung his head and quietly requested a cup of coffee from Susie.