Long_Distance Coffee

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  Instead, she heard Erin theatre whisper, “Okay, he is really cute. Dude has hair! Like, hair that you can see. Is that common?”

  Isabella had to keep from laughing again and whispered back, “Yes, he’s inherited my dark, thick hair, and I’m proud to say that he has much more hair than the other children in our baby group.”

  “Baby group?”

  “Yes. It’s a group that…” Isabella broke off because Alberto started to fidget, kicking his little feet before settling down again.

  “I’m going to hang up and type to you again. I don’t want to wake him.”

  “Of course,” Erin replied.

  Isabella hung up, feeling rude for not saying goodbye even though the conversation would obviously continue. She started typing.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Once a month we attend a group that is moms with babies. I met most of them in Lamaze class, and then we just carried on meeting at the house of a woman named Debbie. We basically talk about the woes and perks of having a baby and then split up. Or, to be exact, I leave. After that, the subjects tend to drift to what everyone’s husband is doing and general gossip. I don’t have time for that.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Don’t have time for it, or don’t have patience for it? ;-)

  IsabellaMartinez1: Both. I go home and write or clean the house. Those are much better ways for me to spend my time.

  BlackVelvetBitches: I’m not gonna disagree with you. I’m not very social these days.

  IsabellaMartinez1: These days? You haven’t always been the introvert that your Twitter bio proclaims you to be?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Nope! Believe it or not, I used to be pretty social until my late teens. Then something changed, I suppose. I started to dread going to parties and finding that I got really tired whenever I spent a lot of time with people, even if I liked them. So now, I don’t hang out with that many people.

  IsabellaMartinez1: There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m more introverted than extroverted myself. But you do socialize sometimes, right?

  BlackVelvetBitches: I have three friends I still meet up with occasionally: Luke, Julian, and Erika. Oh, and I suppose you can call Riley a friend too. Other than that, it’s just me and my guns.

  Isabella wasn’t sure which of her two emotions was strongest at that moment, the shock or the distaste.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Guns?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Yeah, weight lifting, boxing, the occasional Bikram yoga session, and so on. Builds muscles all over, but I’m most proud of my guns.

  Isabella felt utterly confused. And then it all cleared up in an instant.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Oh, you mean your arms! I thought you meant actual firearms.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Nah, I mean the gun show that is currently happening in my pajama top. :-D

  IsabellaMartinez1: You’re in your pajamas?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Well, technically it’s a pair of boxer shorts and a hoodie, but I use it for pajamas on cold nights like tonight.

  Isabella shivered without knowing why. She ignored it and typed back.

  IsabellaMartinez1: I see. So, did seeing Alberto work? Did it make you feel inclined to sleep?

  BlackVelvetBitches: You know what? It kinda did. Or, well, something did. I might get to sleep before four! That would be good, because I have my first client at nine thirty, and it’s this really meticulous guy, so being less sleep deprived than usual would be awesome.

  IsabellaMartinez1: How much sleep do you normally get per night?

  As she waited for Erin’s reply, she noticed that Alberto was fidgeting and making little sniffling noises. She decoded the movements; he was hurting and about to wake up. No musical mobile could fix this.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Sorry. Alberto’s waking up. I’ll try to be back when he has calmed.

  Alberto cried and cried. Isabella ended up spending a long time rubbing his tummy and his back. In the end, she had to give him a teaspoon of a potent anti-colic syrup the doctor had prescribed for nights when his stomach was worse than usual.

  She sat down and fed him while clicking the iPad to see if Erin had come back. There was a single message:

  BlackVelvetBitches: Okay. I’m bringing the laptop to bed. If I don’t reply later on, I have somehow managed to sleep.

  When Alberto was full and the medicine had kicked in, he finally went back to sleep. Isabella placed him in his crib with a soft kiss on his downy hair.

  She sat back in the chair and noticed that she was smiling. In her head, she could hear a sweet, female voice whisper, “Okay, he is really cute,” far too loudly.

  She realized how much she enjoyed Erin genuine honesty. There was a sweetness and down-to-earth quality to Erin, which reminded her of what she had first been attracted to in Richard.

  The difference was… Well, there were a lot of differences. But the one that seemed to stand out the most to her right now was that Erin had another side. That side had seen misery and lived through it. Richard’s childhood had been lovely and normal, something which must have shaped him just as Erin’s and her own negative childhood experiences had shaped them.

  Erin was so much easier for Isabella to relate to. And far too easy to talk to. Isabella worried that if they kept talking, she would spill her whole life story. All her fears, and dreams too. But then, there was a relief in that.

  She picked up her iPad.

  IsabellaMartinez1: The prince is sleeping. Are you?

  She waited while checking her Twitter and a news app, but there was no reply from Erin.

  Isabella hoped that meant that she had fallen asleep. She tried to imagine her curled up next to her laptop in her boxer shorts and her hoodie. She found herself hoping that Erin had pulled the covers or blankets over herself. If it was such a cold night in New York, she’d need to be covered and cozy.

  She dismissed the thought. It was too intimate for someone she didn’t really know. Not yet anyway. But she was getting to know her, wasn’t she? Maybe even better than she had known Richard when she’d called to tell him that she was keeping the baby and wanted them to try being a family.

  The realization stunned her. Could that be true? Granted, she’d spent more time with Richard, but most of it had involved making love or eating a nice meal together, never just…talking.

  Growing weary and wishing not to be the only one still awake, Isabella drew the cashmere blanket over herself and relaxed back into the plush armchair, hoping for sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Waiting Brings Unwanted Thoughts

  Erin had fallen asleep in the end, but it had taken a while. She’d felt strangely tired and calm, as if that near-sleep feeling she’d been chasing for months had finally slowed enough to let her catch it. But she’d still kept herself up a little longer, marveling at how affected she was by knowing that Isabella was bisexual. Or at least bi-curious. She’d gone out of her way to say that she didn’t mind women hitting on her. But, then, she’d also pointed out that it wouldn’t go anywhere because of Richard.

  This wasn’t news to Erin. She knew Isabella wasn’t on the market. Nonetheless, Isabella would consider being with a woman. The idea made butterflies take flight in Erin’s stomach. She just couldn’t help it.

  Then there was the kid. She hadn’t been lying when she said he was cute. She didn’t lie, not unless she really, really had to. But she hadn’t in this case. He was adorable in that alien-looking baby way. So innocent and vulnerable. That wispy tuft of dark hair and his little mouth, open in an O as he took his deep, sleeping breaths.

  Yeah, he was a charmer, just like his mom. Erin could say that after only having seen him once. Or maybe she liked him because of how Isabella adored him? Despite the fact that Isabella had been whispering, that melted-chocolate voice turned even warmer when she was talking about her kid.

  When Erin’s alarm went off in the morning, she woke, shocked to realized that she felt well rested. She couldn’t even remember any dreams. The whole night had just been a heavy, soft blanket
of refreshing sleep.

  She got up and had some oatmeal and coffee, before dressing and heading off to work. While she was on the subway, struggling to get her MetroCard into her stupidly small pocket, she remembered what she’d said to Isabella about her current lack of social life.

  It made her wonder if she should call someone and go out for coffee or a drink or two. When she was above ground and heading for the doors of Nash’s Gym, she sent off a quick text to Erika, her Swedish friend living in Brooklyn. She hadn’t spoken to her in ages. It must be at least three months since either of us even checked up on each other.

  A reply came in right away; Erika was probably bored at work and checking her phone. They decided on coffee at Erin’s the next day. Saturday. Conveniently.

  Ten minutes later, Erin greeted her first client and listened to him complain about sore muscles from last time, all the while wondering if meeting up with Erika would work as well as chatting with Isabella had. Would it also make her feel happier? Would it make her sleep better? Or was Isabella about more than merely curing her loneliness? She dismissed the thoughts and focused on work.

  After coming home from work and eating a healthy dinner, Erin was ready to tackle the evening. It was amazing how much more rested she still felt; those extra hours of sleep had really done her good.

  She decided to watch a movie and, in a fit of nostalgia, popped Back to the Future into the DVD player. However, she found herself glancing toward her laptop over on the table.

  Her thoughts ran away with her. When would Isabella be online tonight? Was it too early now? Did she, Richard, and the lil’ man eat dinner early or late? Was Isabella writing?

  In the end, she picked up her phone to check her apps. Nope. Isabella wasn’t online.

  She sighed and tried to focus back on the movie but continued to struggle against the thoughts of what Isabella might be doing. Was she sitting with Richard on a couch watching TV? They didn’t seem very close, but then they did live together and had a kid together, so they were probably hanging out at night.

  When the movie ended, Erin was almost relieved. Trying to focus had been annoying. She considered going for a run to clear her head. Instead, she found herself at her laptop.

  Isabella still wasn’t online. Erin couldn’t help it; she went to message her on Skype. She saw the last message sent.

  IsabellaMartinez1: The prince is sleeping. Are you?

  Ridiculous as it was, a cold feeling of loss came over her when she saw the words. She would’ve gotten more time with Isabella if she hadn’t fallen asleep last night. She weighed the extra sleep she got against more time talking with Isabella and found that the much-needed sleep won out. But not by much, and she was sure it was only because she’d speak to Isabella soon.

  She decided to write a response Isabella could pick up when she came online.

  BlackVelvetBitches: I was sleeping, yeah. Like a baby! Staring at your womb nugget snoozing clearly worked. ;-)

  Erin sat back and smiled contentedly. She was willing to bet that reusing the womb nugget thing would make Isabella put down what she was doing to come and tell her off.

  She turned out to be right. The little green dot that signaled Isabella’s presence online popped up next to her name.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Firstly, we have discussed the use of the term womb nugget, and I made my opinion clear. Use it again, and I will send you a picture of the contents of his diaper. Secondly, I am glad you got some sleep. I am just about to give Alberto his bath, then I’ll put him to bed and come online. Will you still be here?

  Erin blew out a long breath. Of course she would. There was no point in kidding herself. She would wait for hours, just for a brief chat with this woman. Hell, hadn’t she been waiting for hours already?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Yep. I’ll be right here, Martinez.

  She’d written, “when am I getting my bath?” at the end, just as a joke, then realized how flirty it sounded and deleted it before sending the message.

  Erin got up to walk around and stretch her legs. She went to look out the window. There were some people outside the Irish bar; two of them were smoking, and the others were talking animatedly.

  Erin was relieved to not be out there with them. Not just because she was an introvert and social interaction drained her, but because she wouldn’t switch her dingy little apartment, with its laptop connected to Isabella’s world, for anything else in the universe. All she wanted she had right here. “Except a dog. Stupid landlord and his stupid rules,” she muttered to herself.

  She went to make coffee and listened to the quiet hum of her laptop. Maybe it wasn’t all she needed. What would it be like if, instead of appearing on the screen, Isabella walked into this room? Erin’s mind drifted into daydreams about that. What would Isabella look like? What would she say? What would she smell like?

  She shivered. She felt as if she had crossed some invisible line. Isabella had a life in Florida. A partner, a child, and a budding career as a writer. All Erin was to her was someone harmless to chat to, someone to have a brief conversation with and then forget about.

  The fact that Erin imagined her here, in her intimate, little home, somehow felt like she was doing something bad. But why? It wasn’t like she was imagining Isabella in her bed, just in her home. Just walking into the room, sighing with a tired smile, and saying, “He’s finally asleep. Would you make some coffee, Erin? I’m utterly exhausted.”

  Erin shivered again. This was even worse. What was she doing, and why did it make her feel so guilty? She groaned. God, am I really that lonely?

  Why did these imaginings make her feel like she was trespassing on Isabella’s life?

  This was all too complicated. She slammed her finger onto the power button on the coffeemaker and shut her eyes, focusing as hard as possible on what dog she would get if she could have one and how she’d go jogging with it.

  Slowly, the unwanted thoughts dissipated. By the time the coffee had poured through the filter, Erin was relaxed again. She opened a cabinet and picked up a peanut butter protein bar. She read the contents. Way too much sugar. She’d have to switch to unsweetened ones. One day. Maybe. For now, these bars were a better option than going out to buy a bear claw or munching down a plate of waffles.

  She ate her bar and sipped her coffee as she watched the street below. As always, she could hear distant music, people shouting at each other, and the constant hum of traffic. Somewhere, a vehicle beeped long and hard at someone else.

  Erin was trying hard to keep her thoughts clear from finding ways to ask Isabella about her dreams, hopes, and fears. She was also trying not to think of ways to ask Isabella for pictures of herself or to turn on the camera again.

  She’s not yours to fall in love with, pal.

  She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there with a half-empty coffee cup and a scrunched-up wrapper when her laptop pinged, nearly giving her whiplash, she turned toward it so fast. Erin hurried over and slammed her cup down on the table, pushing the wrapper into the lukewarm coffee.

  IsabellaMartinez1: The young gentleman is now clean, fed, and asleep. I am just about to go down and fetch some coffee. Are you here and free to chat for a while?

  Erin slowly counted to five, to not seem like she was waiting so eagerly, then replied.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Sure! I’ve had my coffee, but I can join you for another cup in a while. What about Richard?

  IsabellaMartinez1: What about him?

  BlackVelvetBitches: It’s still pretty early. Don’t you want to hang out with him?

  IsabellaMartinez1: Not really. I’m certain he has things to do.

  Despite the curt tone in that message, Erin was smiling. Isabella was choosing her company over Richard’s. Even if that probably said more about Isabella’s feelings for her boyfriend than it did about Isabella’s feelings for her, she couldn’t help but feel that she had somehow…won.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Fair enough. His loss is my gain. Go get your cof
fee, woman! I’ll be here.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Thank you for the kind sentiment, Miss Black. I’ll be right back.

  Erin, still smiling, gave a happy sigh and waited patiently for Isabella’s return.

  Chapter 10

  There’s Richard…and Then There is Erin

  Walking down the stairs quietly, Isabella thought about those words. “His loss is my gain.” Was that how it was? Was this time that she was looking forward to spending with Erin time she should be spending with Richard? She knew the answer before she had even finished the thought; of course it was.

  Right now, Richard was lying on the sofa, eating sunflower seeds and texting his best friend while half watching some show about archery.

  While she, well, she was going to spend the last hours of the day talking to a lesbian in New York. No, thinking about Erin like that felt…wrong. She was so much more than that. So much more interesting than that.

  Isabella scolded herself. She knew nothing about Erin, and that was exactly what this was all about. It was the writer in her who’d seen an interesting character and wanted to know more about her. Yes, that must be it, she managed to convince herself.

  Well, almost convinced herself.

  She hurried down to make her coffee. In the kitchen, she stared at the door to the living room where Richard was watching TV. She could hear the muffled narration of the show through the wood. She could open that door, go in and lie down on the sofa, cuddle in his arms, or lie her head on his chest. She wondered if that would make him happy or uncomfortable.

  He always acted as though anything she did, anything she wanted, was fine. But surely, he must have a preference. She thought about the chaste kisses he placed on her cheeks and the friendly claps on the back. Were those for her benefit or his?