The Reason for Coffee

Inside this neighborhood coffee shop, the wood of the tables gleams gold. Ivy grows on the windowsill. Outside, cars slip by on a street divided by a row of live oaks, their boughs fresh with spring green. I sip a flat white that is unsurpassed in its natural sweetness and creaminess, not a hint of bitterness. Tommy reads Gentle and Lowly and Jack sleeps in his car seat, both chins resting on his bib.  Around us, most other patrons are...