A Heavenly Scent
by S.K. Naus

Very carefully, Jeanine set the styrofoam cup filled with coffee on the
small table. She shrugged the knapsack off, removed her jacket and sat
down. She'd purposely chosen the tiny table in the corner for privacy. The
smell of the strong, black coffee wafted beneath her nose and before taking
her notebook computer from her bag, she quickly stole a sip. The Starbucks
coffee shop was relatively quiet as it was now after the breakfast rush.
Jeanine was skipping class but her procrastination had forced her into it.
Flipping the computer on, she waited for it to boot and then opened the file
containing her notes for her history essay. Sighing heavily, she leaned
back and grabbed the coffee for another swallow.
"Huh?" she exclaimed softly. The cup was only two thirds full. Holding
the cup in the air, she tried to see if there was a leak. There was none.
Glancing at the table, she confirmed the leak theory was out as there was no
spillage.
Jeanine set the cup down after a healthy swallow and began to type on the
keyboard. Why had she chosen to research the Graydon Estate? It was a
boring topic. Who cared if several politicians had been murdered there?
The incident had happened over one hundred years ago. She made a face.
Ugh, history was not her favourite subject.
Leaning back, she was tempted to get up and browse through the adjoining
bookstore, Chapters. No! When she finished the stupid paper then perhaps
she could spare a few minutes to do so. Absently, she wondered if the new
J.D. Robb mystery had been released yet.
Returning her attention to her coffee, she picked up the cup and let out a
cry.
"Is something wrong?" One of the attendants behind the counter stopped
wiping and looked up at her.
"Um, I- I-," stuttered Jeanine. "My cup is empty." Now that sounded
stupid. The attendant smiled. "Would you like another coffee?"
Taking out her wallet, Jeanine walked up to the counter and this time
ordered a medium coffee with a piece of almond biscotti. The computer
screen seemed to stare at her accusingly while she dunked her biscotti and
drank her coffee. When she'd finished half the beverage, she began to type
her essay. In her research, she'd discovered that according to legend, the
ghost of one of the murdured politicians, James Humphrey Carlton, haunted
the old estate which had been preserved as an historic site. She rubbed her
eyes and rolled her neck. Only 45 minutes had passed. She picked up the
coffee and again was startled. There was only a quarter of it left.
"Something wrong?"
Jeanine looked up and saw the kind face of an elderly woman. She wore an
old fashioned apron and a cap on her head. For some inexplicable reason,
the woman seemed faded. Blinking, Jeanine shook her head.
"Enjoying your coffee?" The woman's face crinkled into a smile.
"Yes, I come here a couple of times a week." said Jeanine.
"So do I." confessed the woman. "Sometimes it seems like forever before I
can enjoy a cup of coffee."
Jeanine didn't know what to say.
"What are you working on?" The woman was very chatty.
Jeanine quickly explained her history essay, hoping the woman would leave
her alone so she could get back to work.
"Now that was a tragedy." Ignoring the surprise on Jeanine's face, the
woman sat down and began to talk. "You know, James Carlton was the only
honest one of the bunch. Unfortunately, he was at the wrong place at the
wrong time." She waggled a finger. "He was a fine upstanding man. Good
ideas. Good morals. He left behind a wife and 4 children."
This was new information to Jeanine but she made a mental note to 'google'
it further. After a few minutes, the woman finally stood up.
"Nice chatting with you, dear." She inclined her head and in the blink of an
eye had disappeared.
Jeanine cried out and again drew the attention of the same attendant.
"Can I help you?" asked the attendant politely.
What could Jeanine say? Silently she shook her head, packed up her
belongings and decided to leave.
Later that night, she researched the info the woman had given her only to
find it totally accurate.
Despite the A Jeanine received on her essay, she was never able to give
credit where credit was due. Oh well, at least the mysterious stranger had
enjoyed her coffee!