Astrid knew it was her the moment she walked through the door. Victoria escorted the customer to the available table and chairs at the rear of the café, and Astrid was tasked with taking their orders. She watched from the counter as the woman shuffled over with assistance from her daughter, a walking stick in her left hand while she held on tight with her right. It was eleven thirty, and Southland Coffee was full of suburban regulars.
"Just the usual for me, Astrid," said Kevin as he walked past the open window on his way to the newsagents. She wasn't paying attention. She never did. The expectation that his almond flat white with a teaspoon of honey would be there waiting for him on the windowsill remained. She stared as the woman made it to the table assigned to her and her daughter and sat down with difficulty. A pain shuddered through her face as it contorted from the bending of her legs. Astrid swallowed a buildup of saliva. She was transfixed on the mother and daughter, in a daze.
She thought she had blocked out that memory. It happened years ago, in another part of the state. Far, far away from here. Far, far away from who she was now.
"Astrid, are you able to serve table three?" Victoria asked as she went behind the counter to the barista machine to prepare the coffee order.
"Okay, Kevin just walked past and will have his usual almond flat white,"
"Got it," she said, cleaning out the metal milk pot with boiling water.
"Table three has given their coffee orders; they're just after food now."
"Got it," Astrid said as she picked up a menu from the stack on the bench and proceeded over, slowing her steps without noticing.
"Excuse me, love, could we please have another fork when you get a second?" came a request from table seven as she passed.
"Of course," Astrid reassured them as she ventured back to the front bench and behind the kitchen to the cutlery. She retrieved what was asked and walked it back.
"Here you are," she said, handing it over. The woman nodded and returned to her conversation with her friend.
"How is everything?" Astrid interrupted.
"Oh, wonderful, thank you," she replied. She returned to her friend but stopped short and raised an eyebrow when Astrid did not move.
"Is there anything else I can get you?" Astrid asked.
"No, no, we are fine," the woman reassured her.
"Are you sure? Because we have some specials on the board that our chef hasn't listed before, and they are divine," she attempted to sell.
"No, just the cheque, thank you, we're okay."
"Okay, just the cheque it is then," Astrid said. She did not move. She craned her neck to look at the mother and daughter at the far end. Their order was being taken by Dominique, the casual who had just started her shift.
"We are fine, just the cheque, please," the woman reminded Astrid. She wasn't paying attention. She watched on as Dominique spoke to them one after another. The woman leaned into her menu and strained to make out what was on offer. It was hard to read the narrow font with one eye behind a patch. Astrid didn't realize the damage she had inflicted had caused permanent blindness. She remembered what the news had said, word for word, despite it being eight years ago.
"A woman in her sixties has suffered severe injuries from a home invasion in the city's east. Police allege a gang of youths broke into the woman's home while she slept and assaulted her multiple times, causing internal bleeding, a ruptured spleen, and a broken arm. Police are appealing for anyone with knowledge of the attack to come forward and assist."
"We would also like some privacy," the woman's colleague said, breaking Astrid's daydream. She craned her neck back to see that she was standing over their table, causing them discomfort.
"Of course, Ma'am, my apologies," she said.
Astrid returned to the front bench and met with the coffees bound for table three.
"This is for three," Victoria said.
There was no escaping.
Astrid picked them up and walked them over. Heel toe, heel toe. She was reminded of the rumba steps she had taken in juvenile prison. She had served time under the guise of an earlier offense. She was never caught nor convicted over the home invasion. It was the final act that awoke her to the senselessness. The crack of the bone stirred a deep-seated feeling that had been buried—empathy. When the wrist of the woman lay limp on her seventies carpet, littered with cat fur, the cries of agony and helplessness gave her pause. For the first time in her life, she felt sorry for someone other than herself.
Astrid’s actions had previously been fueled by her carelessness and aggression. She had a reputation in her friendship group to uphold. When they kicked that woman in the face, no one had a funny word to say. No one had a word to say otherwise. She remembered when they walked out of the front window that they had kicked in. They didn't even bother taking the car as they had originally planned. She remembered hearing the wails of the woman as they ran down the street. A week later, she was in front of the justice for theft and sentenced.
She thought about the woman every day inside those walls. She thought about her when she wore the prison-issued dancing shoes and took part in the assigned tasks. She thought about her for fifteen months until her term ended and she was to be returned to society.
She thought about going down to the city and knocking on her door and introducing herself and apologizing for the night she brought terror in the shape of herself and her friends. She was a pathetic mess. She had blocked out those memories. She had created a new persona of herself. Now, she was face to face with her evil acts once more.
"Two coffees," Astrid said as she laid the cups down for the woman and her daughter.
"Thank you, my Mum ordered hers extra weak and not as hot— is that right?" The woman in the eye patch nodded.
Astrid was lost for words, she wanted to leave. She knelt over the table and touched the side of the mug. It felt lukewarm. Her finger brushed that of the woman’s as she leaned over to pick it up for a sip. Astrid's spine tingled a rush of blood down her back. Her eyes widened and her cheeks blushed. She was welcome amongst these two—even if the relationship was transactional and based on service. Astrid was welcome and not reminded of the horrors for which she was once capable. The friendly tone in the daughter's voice and the lack of fear expressed by the mother were inviting, even if she had not earned it. Astrid wondered if she should introduce herself and let these two know her true identity. They seemed so lovely and happy now... Maybe they would allow her to resolve her mistake and atone for her sins.
"Oh, it is a bit too warm for me, love," the woman said as she placed the mug back down on the table.
"No worries, I'll go back and get another made-up," Astrid said in a bright and friendly tone.
"It's okay, we can just wait for it to cool down," the daughter said.
"Are you sure? I don't mind?" Astrid offered again.
"It's okay, love, I don't mind waiting," she said.
Astrid smiled at her, and the woman smiled back. They had come to an agreement. Astrid felt as if the locking of eyes was more than an acceptance of the coffee order. That they had truly made amends from that night eight years earlier. This woman had suffered, but so too had Astrid. Now, today—the day was determined that her sins would no longer live with her and that Astrid could complete the circle of a bad girl turned good.
She had served this woman with dignity and respect, which was a complete one-eighty from the last time they encountered one another. Astrid's smile grew wider. She was reminded briefly of the sinister smiles she used to give at the height of her ultra-violent days. That was different. Now she loved and respected everyone.
Astrid squinted as she smiled and then opened her eyes to catch the look of the woman whom she assumed was beaming back at her with one working eye. Instead, her gaze had changed. Her working eye formed a frown, and there was a look of recognition in the eye that could see.
The woman's mouth opened ajar, and her hand began to shake. The lukewarm coffee, warmer than expected, shook with her and tipped on the table. The cutlery rattled and fell to the floor.
"Mum," her daughter asked, holding her arm. "Mum, what is it?"
The woman's gaze with her one working eye did not move away from Astrid. Her serenity began to fade, and reality arrived.