Denny is baking biscuits. But they’re not biscuits. They’re scones, he tells me.
They look good. Our son is coming over for coffee. His wife is working.
Now Denny is roasting coffee beans. I finally allowed him to do it inside during the winter instead of outside on the balcony. He’s very careful to vacuum up the chaff that cracks off the beans. Roasting coffee has a different smell than roasted coffee. Our vacuum cleaner now smells like coffee roasting.
Through the living room window Denny spots a jogger. “There he goes.”
A minute later, “He should be in your book. Look at him. Look at him.”
I turn and look, “The one with the reflective wear?”
He’s barely moving. Denny does an imitation, his head bobbing. He’s virtually staying in one spot.
Five minutes later. “He’s coming around for lap two now. There he is. Lap two.” Denny is craning his neck, following him.
“At least he’s getting his exercise. I’m proud of him,” I comment.
Denny sits down in the living room with a fresh cup of coffee.
Our son is driving up.
“Our house is in a little bit of a mess,” I say to Denny.
“It’s not that bad really. I’m sure it’s better than their place.”
“You think so?”
“Oh, yeah. I know so.”
“How do you know so?”
“Because they never let us into their place. And if they do let us into their place then I know they’ve cleaned up.”
Denny laughs, “You’re laughing.”
“You have a funny way of reasoning.”
Our son walks in and throws his coat on the floor on top of his shoes.
“You can hang your coat up if you want to.”
He acknowledges me and decides to hang it up.
“Target is closing,” he says, sadly, as he sits down. “Canadians didn’t buy enough stuff.”
“I probably shop there as much as I do Walmart,” Denny says. “And don’t ask me how Walmart can stay open. Target didn’t do anything that makes people want to go there more than Walmart. I don’t know why people would want to shop at Target.”
“They’ve got better clothes. They’ve got all the Roots stuff,” I tell him.
“Do you want to go to Whistler tomorrow?” my son asks me.
“I don’t know. There’s probably snow up there.”
“That’s the whole point.”
“Biscuit time,” Denny gets up.
Denny has made two coffees, one for each of them. Denny has a specialty coffee maker.
I see them looking at their coffees. Denny holds his up to the light. The coffee is in clear, double-walled glass cups, “It doesn’t look good.”
“It will just taste like Starbucks now. Dark and yucky.”
“It smells a little like it,” our son takes a sip. “It still tastes better.”
Denny laughs. “I can make a bad cup of coffee and it still tastes better.”
“Chipotle in Metro Town is almost open.”
“What do you mean. The door is open a crack?”
“I guess they didn’t get the memo.”
“What memo?” Denny asks.
“Target. Canadians aren’t buying.”
Guys making conversation.
“What kind of jam is this?
“Strawberry and apricot.”
“Strawberry and apricot?”
“One is strawberry and one is apricot.”
“There’s free coffee at McDonald’s now?”
“With a coupon. You’ve gotta have a coupon.
“Is it just the small?”
“Did you make this from a mix or from scratch?”
Denny’s brewed coffee and homemade biscuits. Or scones. Mmmmm. Very homey. We’re having a good day.
And Target is history. Not even two years in Canada.