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The bell above the door jingled as Jon walked into the cafe, effectively drawing the attention of half a dozen cats. It was on the small side, but the large bay windows- each with a plush window seat adorned with pillows- made it seem bigger than it actually was. On the far wall there was a counter with a door behind it, and a glass case that probably contained sweets of some kind. There were two pairs of sofas, each with a coffee table between them, and three linen-covered tables with mismatched chairs. Then there were the cat trees, cat towers, beds, toys, scratching posts, food and water dishes that covered the floor. There was even a strange combination of shelves, hammocks, posts, and tiny bridges on the walls, upon which several cats were lying on.
From the entrance Jon could see only a handful of guests as well as around seven cats of different sizes, colors, and degrees of fluffiness. A ginger tabby trotted up to him and began rubbing its head against his legs, while somehow also yowling at him as though in greeting. “Hello there,” Jon knelt down and let the cat sniff his offered palm. “Noisy little thing, aren’t you?”
There was the sound of something shattering, like a glass had been dropped, and Jon jumped. Looking up from the tabby he saw a man with a round, friendly face smiling awkwardly at him from behind the counter. He was about a foot taller than Jon and on the bigger side, with curly auburn hair and bright blue eyes that crinked at the corners when he smiled. Walking farther into the cafe Jon could see the man was wearing an apron with a paw print name tag that read “Martin, he/him” in neat handwriting. “Sorry, this little man knocked a mug over.”
There was a calico seated on the counter next to him, mostly white with splotches of brown and black in places, including some that partially covered his eyes and one ear. The cat stared at Jon with wide, dark eyes that seemed to say he was incapable of doing anything wrong. “Him?”
“Yup, Mal’s a bit of a criminal at times.” Despite his words Martin gave the cat- Mal- a stroke behind his ears. The cat seemed very pleased with himself and leaned into Martin’s hand to receive more pets.
“I refuse to believe that he’s even able to commit crimes. He doesn’t even have thumbs.” Another yowl came from around Jon’s feet and he realized he’d been neglecting the ginger cat, so he bent down once more to give the tabby a scratch under the chin. “Who’s this handsome man?”
“That’s Percy, our resident greeter. He’s very friendly.” The man smiled and fetched a broom from next to what Jon assumed was the kitchen door. “I’m Martin, by the way.”
Jon already knew this, but he reluctantly got to his feet and held out a hand. “Jonathan Sims, er- Jon. You can just call me Jon.” He felt his cheeks flush, he wasn’t used to introducing himself in a non-professional setting.
“Nice to meet you Jon,” if he’d noticed Jon’s embarrassment Martin didn’t let it show. “How can I help you today?”
“Oh, table for one I guess.”
“Righto, any preference of where you’re sitting?” Gesturing to the mostly-empty room behind him Martin smiled. “As you can see we are terribly busy so your selection might be limited.”
“I can see that,” Jon chuckled softly. “Would it be too much trouble to sit on a couch?” He wanted there to be space for cats to join him if they so desired. Martin led him over to a cute little blue sofa upon which sprawled a tuxedo with a black splotch on her pink nose. She woke when Jon sat down and immediately snuggled up next to him, rolling onto her back and exposing her belly when he began to pet her.
“That’s Cala, she’s very cuddly.” Martin held out a small menu, grinning shyly.
“I can tell.” Jon hadn’t even been in the cafe for five minutes and already he liked the place. It felt cozy, from the mismatched and well-worn furniture to the variety of cats- which was delightful. He looked over the menu, a small smile forming on his face as he noted items like “cat-puccino,” “meow-carons,” and “cream paw-ffs.” There was also an extensive tea list, including some kinds he’d never even heard of before, as well as various coffee blends. He honestly was having a hard time making up his mind on what to get. “How is your chai?”
“Um, it’s a bit too spicy for my tastes,” Martin’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I like it better as a latte, but it’s still a bit strong for me personally.” As though realizing that he might have spoken out of turn he glanced away. “That’s just me though, you might like it just fine.”
“It’s been a while since I had a good chai, most places just have that awful concentrated stuff.”
“Oh no, all of our teas come from a local shop, I believe they mix all the blends in house. They also do custom blends if I remember correctly.” Martin leaned over and tapped one of the items on the menu. “If you’re looking to have the chai I’d recommend having one of the apple-cinnamon scones. It’s not too sweet and it pairs well with the spice of the chai.”
“That sounds lovely, I’ll have a cup of chai and a scone please,” feeling a paw bat at his sleeve Jon chuckled. “Also some cat treats, if you don’t mind.”
“Right, one cup of chai and an apple-cinnamon scone coming up!” Reaching into his apron pocket Martin pulled out a handful of fish-shaped treats and passed them over to Jon, their fingers brushing against each other for the briefest instant before he rushed off, cheeks flushed.
Turning to Cala and giving her a scratch on the chin John muttered “do you think I scared him off?” She purred and rubbed her head against his palm. From near his feet someone meowed, and he looked down to see a tiny calico sitting there, eyes fixed on the treats in his free hand. “Oh, did you want one?” The cat meowed again, jumping onto the coffee table. Jon placed a few treats before her, which she began crunching on happily before demanding more. “Hey, none of that. Don’t be bossy with me.”
“She won’t listen.” Jon nearly jumped out of his skin as someone sat down across from him, a woman with cinnamon-colored curls, brown eyes partially obscured by round glasses, and the same kind of apron that Martin also wore. “Sasha, she/they” read her name tag. “Molly’s a sweetheart though, she follows certain people around like a duckling.”
“How many cats do you have here?” Jon asked, looking around the cafe again and trying to count them. He saw a tiny, fluffy tuxedo tossing a catnip mouse around while a pair of cats, a tuxedo and one with jet-black fur, lounged on a cat tower. More accurately, one was curled up on the tower, the other was sprawled on top of them. There was a cat napping on a window seat whom he’d first thought had black fur, but upon closer inspection it looked more reddish-brown in the sunlight. Then there were a couple of extremely fluffy tuxedos that were being entertained by one of the other guests dangling a feather toy above them.
“This week we have about twelve,” Sasha began counting on her fingers. “Rose, Fern, Mal, Jamaica, Princess, Cala, Molly, Percy, Beelzebub, Prim, Darby, Darcy, and there’s probably someone I’ve forgotten. Quite rude of me, I know.”
“This week?”
“Most of the cats here are from a local shelter,” Martin replied, placing a cup of tea and a scone on the coffee table in front of Jon. A tortoiseshell cat trailed behind him and meowed, not necessarily getting underfoot but making her presence known. “A few live here full-time, but the rest are here so they can hopefully find their forever homes.”
“Oh, were you already helping him Martin?” Sasha got to her feet and brushed her apron off as though trying to get rid of some of the cat hair.
“Not really, I mean, unless Jon wants something else.” Martin smiled and turned to go. Jon felt his stomach lurch for some unknown reason, he’d wanted to talk to Martin more but he understood that the man was technically working.
“I mean, I had some questions but it doesn’t have to be Martin who answers them...” Hastily taking a sip of his tea Jon couldn’t bring himself to meet either of their gazes. “You both probably have things to do.”
“Martin’s free,” Sasha smiled, patting the man on the back. “We’re not terribly busy right now so I can spare him for a few minutes.”
“I can buy you a drink, if that would-” feeling embarrassed Jon tried to think of what he could do to make the situation less awkward.
“Oh, I get drinks for free while I’m on the clock,” Martin scratched his cheek absentmindedly. “One of the perks of working here.”
“Right, that makes sense.” Cheeks burning, Jon felt a furry head butt up against his leg and glanced down to see Cala had rolled onto her back again. He scratched her stomach, relieved to have something to do besides think about how stupid he must look.
“I’ll be right back then.”
When Jon looked back up Martin had gone, and it was all he could do to not grab one of the pillows on the couch and scream into it. It must just be an effect of the cafe, lowering his guard and making him act like a fool. Taking another sip of tea he realized that he hadn’t actually tasted it when he’d drank it earlier. It was one of the best chais he’d had in a while, and Martin had been right about the scone going well with it. The sweetness of the apples balanced with the tea’s spice, and before Jon knew it he’d finished both.
“Want a refill?” Jon didn’t know when Martin had come back, but when he glanced up the man was sitting across from him, a steaming mug in his hands.
“Oh, not right now, thanks.” It was easier to focus on Cala, who seemed displeased that Jon had stopped petting her while he’d enjoyed his tea. She was rubbing her face against his leg, as though trying to remind him that she was there. “Yes, I see you. I’m sorry for ignoring you.”
“She’ll forgive you soon enough.”
“You said the cats are from a local shelter?” It was a good idea, helping cats get adopted thanks to the cafe. It was hard to not fall in love with any of the little beauties.
“Yeah, it’s a fairly recent idea. The shelter’s a bit overwhelmed right now so we figured- well we’re already a cat cafe so we should be doing all we can to help out.” Martin smiled as a calico leapt up onto the couch and cuddled up with him, purring softly. “Hello, Princess. How was your nap?” The cat yawned as if in answer. “Very productive, I see.”
“Does it need volunteers or something?” Jon couldn’t help but be concerned, he hated the idea of a place dedicated to helping animals not doing well. He wasn’t a vet or any kind of caretaker but he could at least see if they needed extra hands.
“Probably?” Martin scratched Princess under her chin and she purred contentedly. “The past couple of times I’ve gone there they’ve seemed understaffed. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I’m studying at Oxford but I’m on break right now. I was planning to look for work anyway, and I like cats- if you couldn’t tell already.”
“I can, actually.” Martin smiled, his freckled cheeks dimpling. “I’ll let them know you’re interested.”