The Not Coffee Mug (4)

January 26, 2009 Writer's Cramp entry.
Prompt:Write a story or poem about the best gift you ever gave for someone else's birthday.

The Not Coffee Mug

Seattle was back in the “rinse cycle”, as the Seattleites lovingly called their wet weather between October and May. It was March 2006, Kathy’s boss Conrad would turn 30 in seven days and she scoured the shopping centers for a thoughtful gift that wouldn’t be perceived as too personal.

Cologne, ties, baskets with assorted toiletries for men, horrible and borderline rude coffee mugs for office use were shown to her by different sales people. It was hopeless. Kathy hated all of it. Sitting in a Starbucks, sipping a tall black coffee of the day she thought back to the presents she had received over the last years.

Most things were of personal nature. Her mom still liked to knit a new shawl each cold season for her. Her dad gave her money since she was twelve with the words, “I don’t know what girls need.” Friends and her exchanged things like movie tickets and used them together. Brandon’s last present had been to break up with her a week before her 23nd birthday. A med-student had caught his eye. According to Brandon the new woman had better conversations with him. Yes, and she had better grades and would be a paid doctor a year or two before Brandon. 

Kathy thought how weird it was, that she had worked with Conrad Miller for a little over five years and still hardly knew anything about him. He had taken her out for lunch once. Their conversation was pleasant and about completely random things. Conrad briefly gushed about his son Brett, who did so well in Preschool. Then they mostly talked about work. It had only been a half hour anyways. Not much time to get to know one another.

What had stayed with Kathy was his enthusiasm for his car. Happy to have a clue on what to get him she went to the mall’s biggest car parts store. Nothing here made sense to her. She used a bike in summer and public transportation in winter. Car things were not interesting to her in the least. She found a box that had a picture of a pump and tire on it. It was small enough to get wrapped yet big enough to look like a respectable present. Kathy bought it. At home she wrapped it with neutral dark blue paper.

On the morning of Conrad’s birthday Kathy came to work early. She had the present for him and a small box of pastries with two steaming cups of coffee. She figured to commemorate his round birthday wouldn’t be perceived as overstepping her boundaries.

Conrad swept in with his characteristic energetic stride. He wore an armored vest and was armed to the teeth. A foreign first minister needed to get escorted around town.

Upon his entry into the office Kathy stood up and smiled at him, “Happy Birthday Mr. Miller.”

“You remembered my birthday?” He asked astounded.

She opened the box of pastries and held out the coffee, “I know you’re busy, I wondered if … you …” Kathy felt like a fool. She picked up the blue wrapped present and held it out, “I got this for you.”

Conrad noticed the blushed face of his assistant. He had figured her out a while ago. It flattered him that she had a crush on him and he should have made her switch positions once he realized it. Kathy’s ways of silently worshiping him, never behaving anything less than absolutely professional, had convinced him she was better off staying in his office.

He took the wrapped present from her, “Should I open it now?”

“Yes, if you want to.”

He ripped the paper open and found the tire gauge. He laughed out loud, “Kathy, this is by far the best birthday present anybody has given me in years. Thank you. I can’t tell you how tired I am of ties, mugs, shower gel and other crappy things. This, I can use.”

“I’m glad you like it, sir.” Kathy said happily.

“Did your boyfriend help you pick this out?”

Kathy shook her head, “No, I picked it myself. Brandon and I are going our separate ways.”

Conrad had put the present on his desk and picked a croissant out of her goody-box. He swallowed and said annoyed, “What a moron to let you go. Don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy. You’re young. Brianna and I got married too young I think sometimes. We have days when we hardly talk to each other anymore.”

“That’s too bad,” Kathy said, simply to not stay silent. She enjoyed these rarest of moments when they talked about things that weren’t work related.

The office door flew open, “Conrad! The minister doesn’t like to wait! Oh!” Conrad’s partner, Boris, walked in on Kathy standing behind her desk and Conrad on the other side of it, both with a pastry and paper coffee cup in hand. 

“I’m on my way.” Conrad put the food away and grabbed his jacket.

“You guys having a party?” Boris asked the obvious.

“It’s my birthday. Look, I got a tire gauge.” Conrad held the box up and Kathy thought Boris would break out in laughter.

Instead he said, “You lucky bastard. My assistant gave me a coffee mug and I don’t even drink that stuff.” He turned to Kathy and said grinning, “If you’re ever tired of working for this old goat transfer to me.”

Conrad laughed. “Out! Kathy’s mine. Now let’s go protect the world from that minister.”

The door slammed shut and Kathy sank into her seat. She couldn’t stop smiling. “Kathy’s mine” he had said. She knew it wasn’t meant in a romantic way. But for a few hours, as long as he was gone she could play those words over and over in her mind and put a different meaning to them.

977 words