Chapter 288 The Bitter Reality Of Coffee
Michael had showered me with so much love these days that I could not help but think of this period as the most blissful time of my life.
I had just set foot beyond the main gates of our development when a black Mercedes-Benz drove up to me and stopped, blocking my path.
I frowned slightly, displeased at the driver’s manners. Since I was in an excellent mood, I decided to let it go and walk around the car. Suddenly, the back window of the car was lowered. I was Josephine inside the car.
Her unannounced visit made my heart sink. I had a bad feeling about this.
Josephine had been vocal about her objections to Michael’s relationship with me. She was undoubtedly here to pursue her agenda of destroying our relationship.
She must be getting anxious now that our wedding is near.
Regardless of how unsettled I felt at her appearance, I forced myself to approach the open car window and greet her politely. “Hello, Mrs. Shaw.”
I had never treated Josephine with anything less than respect, yet despite my best efforts, her icy demeanor toward me never thawed.
Josephine glanced at me coolly before shifting her gaze to stare ahead. “Ms. Garcia, I’d like to speak with you about some matters. Shall we have our conversation here or do you think we should talk somewhere else?”
She said all this somewhat casually, yet I felt chills down my spine.
It was not difficult to guess the purpose of this conversation, even if I did not have the specifics.
Common courtesy demanded that I invite Josephine to my house. However, the thought of being cooped up in the house alone with Josephine stressed me out.
I looked at my surroundings; to my relief, I spied a café in the distance.
“Mrs. Shaw, we can try the café over there. They’ve just opened recently and I’ve heard good reviews about their menu.”
The café alleviated my fears about being alone with Josephine. I thought a public space would help to reduce some of the tension between us. Like it or not, once Michael and I were married, she would be my mother-in-law, and I did not wish to have a poor relationship with her.
Josephine followed my gaze, and I saw surprise flitting through her eyes. She’s probably shocked that I suggested a café instead of my place. I guess now I know that she’s got some pretty choice words for our conversation.
“Drive,” she ordered her driver instead of replying to me and rolled up the window soon after.
I sighed in resignation as I watched the luxury sedan driving toward the café. What is she going to say this time?
Nothing she could say would make me leave Michael. That did not mean that I desired Josephine’s blessing any less. No one wants to enter their marriage on the wrong foot with the husband’s mother.
By the time I got to the café, Josephine was already waiting at a table. I took a deep breath to steel myself before taking a seat opposite her.
“Mrs. Shaw, would you like something to drink?” I asked nervously at the sight of her stoic expression.
She spared the briefest of glances for me before saying, “You know this place best. You can order a drink for me.”
On the surface, Josephine’s words seemed like an olive branch of sorts, yet the only thing they did was to deepen my sense of unease. I did not know her preferences and I worried that picking the wrong drink would worsen her already poor impression of me.
“A cup of Blue Mountain coffee, please.”
I stopped a waiter walking behind me and placed an order. Josephine’s expression did not do anything to soothe my nerves.
My ignorance about her taste and coffee in general put me in a dilemma. In the end, I ordered the Blue Mountain coffee because of its exorbitant price tag. Even if she doesn’t like it, I don’t think she would scoff at its prestige.
Thankfully, the waiter arrived with the coffee quickly. Josephine had remained silent the whole time. I followed suit, unsure of what to say to break the silence.
She used a teaspoon to gently stir the coffee before raising the cup to her nose to capture its fragrance.
I fretted at Josephine’s display because I was concerned that she would find my choice lacking.
She eyed me once more and took a sip of the coffee. Her brows scrunched slightly, sending alarm bells going off in my head.
“Ms. Garcia, what do you think of their Blue Mountain coffee? Is it nice?” Josephine placed the cup on the table, staring at me with the ghost of a smile on her face. If I did not know any better, I would have believed that she was here to have a serious discussion with me about coffee.
I knew little about coffee and I struggled to come up with an answer to her question. Meanwhile, Josephine looked completely unruffled as she patiently awaited my reply.
“I think it’s quite nice. It has a rich and fragrant aroma.”
Frankly, I had only tried Blue Mountain coffee once in my life and I thought all coffees tasted pretty similar.
Coffee appreciation had always seemed like an expensive hobby to me. Besides, I preferred tea over coffee any day.
“Contrary to popular belief, Blue Mountain coffee isn’t the best coffee. The water used to brew this coffee is a disgrace; they should be using distilled water. The minerals in the water have distorted the taste of the coffee. I find it quite unpleasant.”
Josephine’s nonchalance as she delivered her criticism only amplified my shock. I could not comprehend how she could derive so much information from a mere sip of her coffee.
I could barely begin to tell the difference between good and bad coffee. While Josephine’s knowledge impressed me, I could not help but feel like I had failed a test of sorts.
“Mrs. Shaw, that is amazing. You could tell so much about the coffee from just one sip.”
My plan to remain silent failed under her steely gaze. I smiled weakly at her and voiced my admiration somewhat unnaturally to break the ice.
“This is basic knowledge for anyone who appreciates coffee. Ms. Garcia, are you truly ignorant of this?” Josephine’s humility was a thinly-veiled jab at my poor roots.
Soon enough, the telltale sneer appeared in her gaze. I knew she had used this coffee incident to insult me.
I was furious, but on account of her status as Michael’s mother, I could only swallow my feelings of injustice.
Josephine’s “test” filled me with a fresh wave of shame. Tasting the great coffees of the world was always a hobby for the rich. A village girl like me would not have had the time or means to enjoy such a luxurious activity.
