The Holland Press

Moon Stone. Episode Two. Clove Coffee.

“Well, now I’ll have to be honorable.” Said Luna. “Did they tell you how long you had?”

“No, I asked but no one could give me a set time.”

“Let’s say until the rain stops. Or it’s over when the first one says it is.”

“Alright. I hope it rains all day.”

“There was a time I wasn’t so immune to charms like that.” Luna said.

“You turned down Two thousand dollars to be here. Did you really think it would be worth all that Benjamin?”

“I’d hoped so.”

“I’d hoped you’d take the money.”

“I talked it through with my grandfather. He said I would always be able to make money. I wouldn’t always be able to meet Moon Stone.”

“It sounds like you come from a line of romantics.” Said Luna.

“Gemma?” “Yes, Mum?” Walking back into the kitchen, the young brunette scanned the table while instinctively heading to pour her host some coffee.

“A pinch of cloves and another one for Ben. We can smell it even if he doesn’t want to drink it.”

“I’ve never heard of that before.” Said Benjamin.

“Cloves in coffee? A little thing I picked up in the Middle East. Try it.”

“You spent time in the middle east ? Where?”

“Wait for the coffee.” Luna said, as Gemma brought two cups to the table. She made intentional eye contact with Benjamin, then poured a cup for herself and left the room.

“You were going to tell me about the Middle East.” Benjamin continued, leaning in.

“I’m not certain that I was.”

Ben raised his cup, but Luna said “Wait for the coffee.”

He looked at her a little differently.

“Did they tell you I was senile?”

“They said to be aware of it.”

“The cloves need two minutes to develop in the cup.”

Benjamin looked down into his coffee. The cloves floated around on top.

“You’ll have to navigate them. Or you can take them out, but I’ll judge you for that.”

Benjamin looked back at her.

“I’m sharing one of my best days with you. Sitting here watching the rain clean out those birdbaths.” She nodded. Ben turned slightly to look out the window to share her view.

“Isn’t it boring?”

“Not at all.”

“Did you know I chose the winners?” Asked Luna.

“That’s what they said. I didn’t know if it was true.”

“The committee sends me three finalists. I pick the one. The other two share second place.”

“May I ask what it was you saw?” Asked Benjamin. “I didn’t think what I wrote was that good.”

“Hold onto your young ego.” She warned.

“It wasn’t that good. The grammar, punctuation, structure and timing were all off.”

“So someone else should have won? I knew it. But you chose mine anyway?”

“It’s all so subjective, Ben. It’s my call. You can protest if you want.” She paused,

“The other stories answered their own questions. Your story ended with more questions than it started with.”

“It did? What questions?”

“Try the coffee now.” They both lifted their cups and sipped in a room that smelled like Morocco.

“Oh, that’s really good.” He said.

“You won’t find that at Starbucks.”

“Better ask your questions before the rain stops,” Luna said, ignoring the one he’d just asked.

Ben pulled a list from his backpack and unfolded a piece of paper with handwritten questions.