She was supposed to be writing. What she was actually doing was checking out the Twitter profile that began “Erin Black—Personal Trainer.”
It was an odd thing for her to be doing, as she very rarely spent her sleepless nights speaking to people. Talking to people online late at night could lead to trouble, as the people who were up weren’t always reasonable or appreciative of her wry brand of humor. But last night’s brief exchange had been diverting. It had been nice to discuss Alberto’s problems with a complete outsider. She hadn’t judged, given advice that Isabella had heard a million times, asked stupid questions, or generally annoyed her.
That was rare. Most people managed to push Isabella’s buttons and get her snapping at them in seconds, leaving them disliking her and Isabella berating herself. She didn’t know why she did it. Well, actually she did. Her mother was famous for snapping at people and being unnecessarily harsh. Of all the things to inherit from her mother, she had to get that undesirable trait.
Alberto moved again, and Isabella watched him, only to see that it was another false alarm. Thankfully, he seemed quite deep in sleep tonight. She knew that she should probably turn the iPad off and try for a few hours’ sleep too.
Soon. She just had to check what this Erin Black was talking about with someone who called themselves RedHeadRedHot, which sounded terribly like something from a porno. Not that Isabella had watched one of those since she was in her early twenties. She wondered if they’d gotten more tasteful since then. She sincerely doubted it.
She brought her focus back to the conversation on Twitter and a tweet from Erin.
@RedHeadRedHot Are you actually going to show tomorrow, or will I be at the gym with my weights, looking like I was stood up for a date AGAIN?
@BuffBlonde83 Chill, woman. I paid for the session, so I’ll be there. I was just hungover and forgot last time. You gonna go easy on me, Er?
@RedHeadRedHot Stop calling me Er, Riley. It’s weird. Oh, and hell no, so I recommend you don’t show up hungover this time.
@BuffBlonde83 Wanna make me sweat, huh? I knew you were into me. ;-)
@RedHeadRedHot Ha! Just coz I’m into women and nice to you doesn’t mean I want to bang you, Riley.
A second tweet from Erin followed right after it.
@RedHeadRedHot Oh, and stop outing me on Twitter, or get yourself a new personal trainer! :-P
@BuffBlonde83 Dude. Your bio says you are Out & Proud. YOU outed you, Er. I just spoke the truth about what you really want—ME!
Isabella realized she was frowning. She wasn’t sure if it was the pet name for Erin, the way the person spoke, or something else, but she wasn’t a fan of this Riley. She scrolled farther, seeing what Erin had replied.
@RedHeadRedHot It did say that when you met me. It doesn’t anymore, dumbass.
@BuffBlonde83 Oh shit! I didn’t realize. I’m really sorry, Er. Want me to remove the tweet?
@RedHeadRedHot Nah, it’s fine. If people don’t want a gay trainer, they can just pick someone else. I have no need to train homophobes anyway.
@BuffBlonde83 It would be their loss, babe. Well, I can’t sit around here. New York is full of hot people to meet and Mama wants some fun. BYEEEE!
@RedHeadRedHot At the risk of sounding like your mom, be safe, have fun, and don’t be too hungover for our session tomorrow!
@BuffBlonde83 Yeah, whatevs. If you can’t sleep, I recommend a hot bath and then rubbing one out. Always works for me! ;-)
@RedHeadRedHot Fuck, Riley! Inappropriate much? Go get laid. I’m gonna have coffee and stalk my ex on Facebook. Like a civilized person!
The conversation ended there. Isabella realized that her eyebrows had shot up at some of the stuff she had read. Firstly, because all of that had been said on a public forum where anyone could see, and secondly, because her new Twitter friend was a lesbian. Interesting. The joke about stalking an ex… So, she was single. None of this mattered in any way, of course. It was just plain curiosity on Isabella’s side.
Alberto kicked his little white-and-blue-onesie-clad foot at the side of the crib. Isabella put her hand over the bars and gently rubbed the spot to make sure the pain didn’t wake him. His foot was soft, and she could feel the tiny toes move as she hummed quietly to soothe him. It didn’t work. His eyes opened, and he gave a heart-wrenching cry.
She picked Alberto up and cradled him to her chest while rubbing his back. She shushed him softly and hummed his favorite lullaby. He kept screaming but a little less urgently now. Soon, he settled and kept to little coughing sobs and whines.
She kept rubbing his back and rocking him, as she walked over to the window. He seemed to like looking out at the starry night when he woke. Although, Isabella wondered how much his baby eyes could focus on. She kept humming and kissed his downy head. He gurgled unhappily but otherwise stayed quiet.
Isabella could see Richard’s car outside, parked badly on their drive. As always. That man could never park straight, and it bothered Isabella. Everything about him bothered her lately. She felt like such a bitch. Sometimes, she wondered if she didn’t mind being cooped up in this little room with Alberto all night, because it meant being far away from Richard. Without having to justify her absence. What father would begrudge her the care of their infant?
In here, she didn’t have to listen to Richard snoring all night long. Or be surrounded by his mugs of herbal tea strewn around their bedroom, the dregs of which tainted the air with their distinctive aroma. She didn’t have to sleep in bedclothes that smelled of the outdoors and that annoying cologne he always wore. Or put up with his mud-caked clothes thrown on the floor until he ran out of things to wear and had to wash them. Although if she was honest, she would usually tire of the stench of the dirt and swamp water before then and wash them for him. And of course, she didn’t have to wake up with an erection pressed against her back.
She regretted the unkind thoughts the moment they entered her mind. He was Alberto’s father; he was a good man, and she was the one who had decided that they should give a relationship a go. She just wished that he—her eyes focused back on the car—could park properly.
Alberto nuzzled at her shoulder, and she realized he was looking for food. She sat down in the armchair, unbuttoned her shirt, and started to feed him. She looked down at the iPad she’d abandoned on the side table. Erin Black’s Twitter feed looked up at her, and she used her free hand to scroll up to the bio.
The blonde woman in profile was wearing aviator sunglasses. From what Isabella could see in the little picture, Erin looked attractive. Under the picture was a brief introduction.
I’m Erin Black. I’m a New Yorker and a personal trainer who’s very friendly at work but really a loner. I can’t sleep (like, ever), and I can’t stand racists/homophobes/misogynists. My landlord won’t let me have a dog, and that pisses me off daily.
While Alberto ate, Isabella scrolled down Erin Black’s Twitter feed. Most of it was retweets about dogs, TV shows, and physical fitness. There were a few personal tweets, mostly about if it was snowing or not, and how little she was sleeping.
As Isabella scrolled, she saw new tweets. Erin must have decided against stalking her ex, or perhaps she was joking about that.
She shifted in the armchair to make herself and Alberto more comfortable and to make it easier for her to use her free hand to scroll up on the iPad. She quickly clicked to Follow Erin Black’s profile, telling herself that she could always unfollow her if this woman turned out to be annoying. She read the new tweet.
Dammit. I’m really bored, and my coffee sucks because I put too much water in. Distract me, Twitter!
Isabella smiled, ever so slightly, and noticed that Alberto had fallen back asleep. She put the iPad down, gently placed Alberto back in his crib, and tucked him in.
She buttoned up, cursing under her breath when she saw a few drops of milk on her pajama shirt, and then sat back down in the armchair. She got the iPad and quietly tapped out a reply to BuffBlonde83.
Chapter 3
The Second Night of Tweeting
Erin was putting her still-damp hair up in a ponytail when the laptop beeped. She walked over. It was The_Apple_Core. She punched the air and shouted, “Yes.” She’d included the coffee reference as a little shout-out to the Floridian writer. She hadn’t dared hope it would work, though.
She needed to talk to someone interesting, since she had just been caught on Facebook by a former client who wanted to talk about her brother-in-law’s bad back and ask what Erin would recommend. Erin hated being forced into conversations; it made her feel panicked and weirdly exhausted afterward. Sharing a few tweets with The_Apple_Core was different, though. It was relaxing and fun. At least it had been last night. She hurried to read the reply to her own tweet.
@BuffBlonde83 Too much water? Sounds like someone was too tired to make coffee tonight. Tut-tut. It’s not even midnight yet.
Erin chuckled before replying.
@The_Apple_Core I know, right? I had just gotten out of the shower, so maybe I was preoccupied, but still…need to make another pot.
@BuffBlonde83 Yes, or you won’t be able to stay up and see the wonders of late-night Twitter. Especially the spirited “debates.”
Erin sat down, pulling the towel she was wearing down a bit to protect her from the cold seat of her chair.
@The_Apple_Core Gah! Don’t even get me started on that. I stay in my lane as long as ppl don’t say anything offensive.
@BuffBlonde83 But then you step in?
Erin nodded while she typed the reply.
@The_Apple_Core Hell yeah. Someone has to put a stop to that sort of thing.
@BuffBlonde83 Erin Black—the savior of Twitter. You just need some armor and a sword.
Erin sat up and frowned in puzzlement for a moment. How did this woman know her name? Taking a breath, she remembered that it was in her Twitter bio and focused on writing a response.
@The_Apple_Core Nah! I just don’t like injustice and people treating other people like crap. Society is tough enough without people being assholes, y’know?
@BuffBlonde83 Colorful language there. But I certainly agree with the sentiment.
@The_Apple_Core I know you do! I saw what you did to a certain actor yesterday, remember?
Erin sat back and waited for a reply. Time ticked by, and while other tweets popped up all around her, there were no replies from The_Apple_Core.
The small apartment smelled of her strawberry shampoo and conditioner. Erin greedily inhaled the fresh, sweet scent and made a mental note to buy more of that brand. She stretched a bit. Still no reply.
She went to make a fresh pot of coffee, making damn sure she got the correct coffee-to-water ratio this time. She was contemplating putting some music on when the quiet beep of the laptop rang out. She flicked the switch to turn on the coffeemaker and hurried back to the laptop.
@BuffBlonde83 Sorry. Alberto (my son) woke up, and I had to walk around with him until his stomach settled and he fell back asleep.
@The_Apple_Core No probs. I was just remaking the coffee. Did you two have a nice walk?
@BuffBlonde83 No, not really. His room is far too small for anything more than a walk to the window and then back again.
Erin picked up a protein bar and ripped open the top of the packaging with her teeth.
@The_Apple_Core You can’t take him into your bedroom and have him in your bed?
This time there was a longer pause before the reply came in.
@BuffBlonde83 No, he has to stay in his room so his crying doesn’t wake his dad. Richard has to be up at 6 and get to work. So we stay in here.
Erin read the reply. Twice. She wondered why she felt so disappointed. Was it because the world sometimes seemed so filled with straights, and she longed to talk to people like her? She chastised herself for her assumption. Living with a man didn’t make this woman heterosexual; she could be bi—or pansexual even.
Erin shook off the unwanted disappointment. After all, she was just whiling away some time by talking to a stranger who lived about a million miles away, some rich chick with a kid and a husband who could afford expensive coffee. Most likely, they didn’t have anything in common and would probably not even become friends. What did it matter if this woman was in a steady relationship and into guys?
She typed out a reply and sent it before going to get the coffee which had now finished brewing.
@The_Apple_Core Ah, Okay. What does your husband do? (If you don’t mind me asking.)
@BuffBlonde83 We’re not married. He runs a charity that focuses on saving the endangered wildlife here in Florida.
Another tweet came in right afterward.
@BuffBlonde83 He’s out wading through swamps or in offices schmoozing patrons all day, so he needs his sleep.
Erin returned to her laptop and knitted her brows, as she decided what to reply.
@The_Apple_Core What about you? Don’t you need sleep to be a writer?
There was another long pause, and Erin felt sure that she had blown it and asked too many questions. She worried that she’d offended The_Apple_Core or made her feel bad about her situation. She sighed and muttered, “Damn it, Black, you should have just made a joke about dredging through swamps being good leg exercise.”
Finally, a reply popped up.
@BuffBlonde83 Not as much as Richard needs it. I write between naps both in the daytime and at night. It works perfectly well, thank you.
Erin winced. There was the sarcasm, or maybe it was the moodiness that Apple Core’s Twitter profile warned about.
@The_Apple_Core Right, of course. I didn’t mean to question your setup there. Just curious and bad at, like, phrasing stuff, you know?
Another pause. Erin realized she was holding her breath.
@BuffBlonde83 I understand. Sorry if I seemed defensive. I’ve been told that I tend to come off as rather snappy.
Erin smiled, relieved that the conversation was back on track. She took another bite of her protein bar.
@The_Apple_Core That explains why your bio says you are moody and sarcastic to the (apple) core. I like your Twitter handle btw.
@BuffBlonde83 Thank you. I’ve been fond of apples ever since I was a little girl, and, well, coming up with these names can be tricky.
@The_Apple_Core Hey, mine is not exactly Shakespeare material. ;)
@BuffBlonde83 To be honest, I am surprised yours doesn’t involve dogs. You seem to be a big canine fan.
@The_Apple_Core Ah, you’ve seen my tweets then, huh? Yeah, love dogs. Always wanted one as a kid, but foster homes don’t really allow it.
There was another lengthy pause, and Erin wondered if the reference to her past had put the other woman off, or if the kid had woken up again.
She was aware that some people shied away from a sob story, especially if they were just trying to kill some hours online by mindlessly chatting to a stranger. She wasn’t looking for sympathy or getting ready to pour her heart out. Erin had accepted her past and moved on, but this Apple Core person couldn’t know that. Maybe she wondered why Erin would tweet about it in public.
Erin took a long swig of coffee and grimaced as the still-too-hot liquid stung in her mouth and throat. A tweet came up on her screen.
@BuffBlonde83 Sorry, Alberto needed to be changed. Sorry you weren’t allowed a dog. I read in your bio that you can’t have 1 now either?
Before Erin had time to reply, there was another tweet from The_Apple_Core.
@BuffBlonde83 I can’t believe I just had to put a numeral into that sentence instead of typing out one. Sometimes I hate Twitter and its 140 characters.
Erin couldn’t help smirking at that comment. It was clear that Apple Core liked to speak and write properly. She was either really obsessed about her language use or just educated out the wazoo. Erin made a mental note to find out which it was.
She looked at the tweet again and realized that there was an opportunity to take the public conversation to a more private platform. She wondered if
her new chat partner would go for it.
After a moment of pondering, she came up with a jokey comment. Apple Core could easily shoot it down without it seeming harsh.
@The_Apple_Core :D If you use Facetime or Skype, we could chat there? I can tell u about my lack of puppy goodness in 50,000 chars!
@BuffBlonde83 I wouldn’t know what Facetime was even if it was staring me straight in the face. I have a rarely used Skype account, though.
@The_Apple_Core Cool! DM me your Skype user name, and I’ll add you.
Erin smiled. Her gamble had paid off. She anxiously waited for the next message. It was, however, taking longer than she had expected, and she picked up her coffee again.
@BuffBlonde83 All right. I give up. What is a DM? (Don’t mock me, or I’ll make you regret it!)
Erin snorted a laugh into her coffee.
@The_Apple_Core Dog Mole. :D It’s a direct message (private) here on Twitter. Just so no one else here can see your username and try to add you.
There was another pause during which Erin giggled at her Dog Mole joke. Then her Twitter account informed her that she had a DM. She opened it and read.
I think you might have been mocking me and my technophobic ways, but as I’m not sure, you may live. I’ve had a look and my username appears to be IsabellaMartinez1.
Erin put her coffee down and typed enthusiastically. For some reason, it made her excited to find out the woman’s name. She stopped typing and bit her lip. What if Isabella Martinez was a writer or painter or something, and she was just too uncultured to have heard of her? Should she take a chance and risk sounding dumb?
Yeah, she decided to risk it. If she was wrong and this chick mocked her, at least she’d know what kind of person she was dealing with and avoid her—unless the mocking was funny, of course. She continued typing and clicked send.
Cool. Hey, does that mean I know your name now? I’ve never known anyone called Isabella. It’s an awesome name, btw. (Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker or so lonely I’d be likely to become obsessed with you or anything…much. ;-))
Long_Distance Coffee Page 2