for sending it back.

Their blender broke in the middle of making a smoothie and a replacement had
to be dug out from the storage room. Coffee beans ran empty. Stir sticks seemed to vanish into thin
air. At one point, Jakob had sent him to the convenience store down the road to buy milk.

After the last drink had been made, they let out a unified sigh of relief, each retreating to a separate
corner behind the counter to gather themselves. Siegbert went closest to the windows, next to the
bagged coffee beans where he leaned heavily on his elbows. His knees threatened to buckle
beneath him if not for the counter he found himself leaning against. He lifted his head, the college
student regular sat at a small table with his laptop opened in front of him. He had been watching
them work. With a small nod and a look of amusement, the student lifted the cup to him as if to say
thank you, tucking pieces of maroon hair behind his ear. Siegbert smiled lightly back at him.
Searching through his memory, he placed a name to a face - Subaki, he remembered from writing
his name on the cup, soy green tea latte.

Beside him, Dwyer spoke. His voice raspy and worn like he has fought a war where the lines had
broken. “Is that the last of them?” He said between breaths.

Siegbert turned to him and nodded silently, saving his voice. For the first time since his shift had
begun, there were no customers waiting in line to place an order. Though most of the tables were
occupied, the cafe had quieted considerably. Indistinct chatter settled into the background and
forgotten music resurfaced. Some kind of upbeat pop song by a singer Siegbert was not familiar
with.

“Pick yourself up, Dwyer. That posture is inexcusable,” said Jakob, who had been standing by the
pastries. He reached over and gave a hard open handed clap to Dwyer’s back. Jakob himself looked
as worn as Siegbert had ever seen him. A fine sheet of sweat covered his face and pieces of silver
fringe stuck to his forehead. His ponytail fell loosely behind his back, strands escaping the
loosened knot that held it together. Wisely, Siegbert said nothing of this.

“Come on, I’m tired. Let me slouch a little…,” Dwyer said, “or better yet, let me take a nap at the
back.” If Siegbert were asked to put Jakob’s mood into words, vicious would not have done it
justice. He regarded Dwyer in petrified amazement.

“Absolutely not.” Jakob said, curtly. “Time to restock. We must always be prepared in case our
services are needed.” The words seemed as if they had taken a considerable amount of effort to
force out.

“Right now? After all that?” Dwyer spat.

“Silence. You dare sputter that cheeky nonsense to me?” Brows raising like he dared him to. “I
should not have to remind you who is in charge here.” From the front pocket of his apron, Jakob
pulled out a white handkerchief and brought it to his face, dabbing at his forehead and upper lip.

“See? Admit it. You’re tired too.” Dwyer shot back. “How about we close for the day? Tell
everyone to leave then go home and take a long nap.” He turned his back to Jakob, putting his
weight on his hands placed on the counter. Siegbert watched him warily, afraid he might topple
over beside him.

“To think, my own son would come up with something so ridiculous.” He grabbed Dwyer by the
arm forcefully. Jakob lifted him up easily pulling Dwyer's heavy body to his feet. “As punishment,
you will complete closing tonight. Restocking everything and doing the inventory. I’ll be waiting
at home. I don’t expect you to be back early.”

“You expect me to do all that work?”