Long_Distance Coffee

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  BlackVelvetBitches: Hey! I’m back. I’ll be around the laptop, just need to make coffee and stretch my ass and back out after sitting in those shitty chairs in my local movie theatre.

  Isabella smirked and wondered exactly how one “stretched their ass.” Carefully, so as to not wake Alberto, she replied.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Hello there. Sorry to keep you waiting. Me and Alberto actually fell asleep around nine and slept soundly until now. I sympathize with needing to stretch your back. Sleeping in this armchair is wreaking havoc with mine.

  The reply from Erin came in right away.

  BlackVelvetBitches: That’s why we invented beds, I think. Did they not make it down to Florida?

  Isabella chuckled wryly, as she rolled her eyes.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Haha. Your sense of humor really isn’t improving, is it? I have to sleep next to Alberto. You know that.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Yeah, I do. Just messing with ya. Well if you want, I can show you some exercises to strengthen your back and stretch it out?

  Isabella took a second to think that over. She hated being told what to do, even if it was to help her be more physically comfortable.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Yes, as long as you don’t nag me about doing the stretches every time we talk.

  BlackVelvetBitches: No, ma’am. salutes

  IsabellaMartinez1: All right, then. Tell me what to do if my lower back feels tense and occasionally spasms.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Well, my recommendations to anyone else would be to sleep in a bed and go to regular yoga/Pilates classes. Maybe get a massage once in a while.

  Isabella frowned and huffed out a breath, which nearly woke Alberto.

  IsabellaMartinez1: I’m losing patience, Miss Black.

  BlackVelvetBitches: God, I love it when you call me that! :-D It makes me feel like you’re my teacher or something. Okay, I’ll be serious. I would recommend three stretches (to start with). 1. child’s pose. 2. spinal twist 3. Standing-forward bend.

  Isabella’s frown deepened.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Those all sound terrible. Especially spinal twist, which sounds like some sort of medieval torture.

  BlackVelvetBitches: All stretches (especially ones that originate in yoga) have weird-ass names. It’s not as bad as it sounds. As you are new to it, you should start with a seated spinal twist.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Fine. How do I do it?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Well, you sit down cross-legged and with a straight back. Then you place your right foot on the other side of your knee.

  Isabella was starting to feel overwhelmed and impatient before they had even begun.

  IsabellaMartinez1: I do what? How do you propose I do that without breaking my legs? I’m not very flexible.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Okay, we’ll do it a simpler way. You’ll sit cross-legged, and then put your right hand on floor on the outside of your left hip.

  IsabellaMartinez1: And that’s supposed to be easier, is it?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Sorry, I’m crap at describing what to do. I tend to show my clients how to do the moves while I explain. I’m better with action than words.

  Isabella was about to reply, but then there was another message coming in, as if Erin had suddenly thought of something.

  BlackVelvetBitches: You know what? What if we do another video call, but this time we both have our cameras on? You can watch me do the stretches and then mimic me. That way, I can see if you are doing them right and give you pointers.

  Isabella considered it. It would be the first time she would see Erin on camera, and she had to admit that she was curious. That profile picture with aviator sunglasses didn’t show much of Erin, and she knew nothing about what Erin’s apartment looked like. Besides, she was getting nowhere with Erin’s descriptions, so a demonstration would be helpful. Without it, she was probably going to blow up and show off her short fuse. And she didn’t want Erin to see that if it could be helped.

  IsabellaMartinez1: That seems like a good idea. Not now, though. Alberto is sleeping, and there’s not enough room in here to move without feeling encumbered.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Okay, I don’t know exactly what that word means, but I get the general idea. What about tomorrow? It’s Sunday, so I don’t have any clients.

  IsabellaMartinez1: That sounds good. Richard is usually away with Joshua (his son from an earlier marriage) on weekends, but this weekend got canceled as Joshua has a cold. So, Richard could take Alberto while you coach me in the art of the child’s dragon or whatever it was.

  BlackVelvetBitches: It’s CHILD’S POSE, woman! :-D Yeah, sure. Tomorrow it is. What time?

  Isabella thought through Alberto’s schedule. For some reason, she was reticent to book it in too late in the day. She wanted to video chat as soon as possible.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Somewhere between Alberto’s morning nap and lunch. 11, perhaps?

  BlackVelvetBitches: 11 a.m. it is!

  IsabellaMartinez1: Agreed. Now, tell me about your day. First off, how was the movie?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Not bad. Well, I mean, it was bad. But in the right way, the way action movies are supposed to be bad. Erika wanted to see some artsy movie about a widowed teacher. She tried to sell it to me with the fact that it had lesbians in it, and I was almost swayed. But it’s just too much fun to drag her along to silly action movies and watch her raise her eyebrows until they stick to her hairline. :-D

  IsabellaMartinez1: Let me get this right, you chose to see a movie that was going to be horrible, just to mess with your friend?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Exactly! I’m so glad you get me. Anyway, she knew what I was doing. I’ve known her for years, and she’s well aware of how I do things. She plays along and giggles when she thinks I’m not watching.

  IsabellaMartinez1: Seems like a good friendship.

  BlackVelvetBitches: It is. She’s the kind of friend that you can be away from for months, and when you catch up, it’s like you never left.

  IsabellaMartinez1: That sounds wonderful. I’m glad you have a friend like that.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Yeah, me too. For some reason, I was nervous about seeing her. Probably because I hadn’t talked to her for ages and I felt guilty. But the second she started messing with me and smiling at me, I felt like I was coming home. She’s great. Always interesting and usually really nice. And smart as a whip. You’d like her.

  IsabellaMartinez1: While I don’t tend to take to people easily, it does sound like I would like her, yes. If for no other reason than because I trust your taste in people. I’ve found that introverts tend to choose few people to have in their lives, but choose them well. So, other than the bad movie and the amusing effect it had on your friend, what else happened?

  She pulled the blanket over her legs, while Erin replied. Isabella was treated to a very detailed description of the copious amounts of snacks Erika had bought, and which ones Erin had stolen from her. Which seemed to be most of them. This was followed by a complete breakdown of how much exercise she would have to do to burn off those calories.

  Isabella smiled and realized that, for some unfathomable reason, she was interested. She could sit there, warm and snug, and “listen” to Erin prattle on about anything and just be…content.

  She kept herself from thinking about why she was happy to hear someone so different from herself talking about things that shouldn’t interest her and focused on asking follow up questions.

  Last night had been all about her, tonight was about Erin. And talking about trivial things, like what seats they both preferred in movie theatres, seemed just…perfect. Stopping for much-needed coffee just after midnight was the icing on the cake.

  Even Alberto slept peacefully, allowing his mother to carry on the conversation until 3 a.m., when he woke with a piercing cry.

  Isabella excused herself and decided to say good night. With the wailing Alberto in her arms, she struggled to type out a quick message.

  IsabellaMartinez1: I better go. We should both t
ry to sleep anyway. Need to be fresh for spinal twists and all that tomorrow. Good night, Erin.

  The reply came in right away.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Night, Isabella. I hope you and the kid both get some good snoozing done. Sweet dreams, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow!

  Isabella smiled at the words on the screen, as she rubbed Alberto’s back and made soothing, shushing noises. She found herself strangely excited to see Erin the next day, and quickly focused all her energy on suppressing that enthusiasm and on taking care of Alberto.

  Chapter 13

  Seeing Her Face, at Last

  Once again, it had taken Erin ages to get to sleep, but this time she was sure it wasn’t her insomnia. It was the excitement and fear of seeing Isabella again.

  Of actually seeing Isabella and having Isabella see her as well.

  She’d jumped out of bed at 9 a.m., forced down breakfast, and showered. She applied some discreet makeup: foundation, mascara, and a little blush—nothing over the top. She dressed in her Sunday-stay-at-home clothes. Then changed into something dressier for the video chat. Then changed again, before finally settling on a stretchy but figure-hugging flannel shirt and a pair of skinny jeans.

  She wanted to look good but not as if she’d made an effort. Then she remembered she was supposed to demonstrate stretches. The skinny jeans had to go. She considered exercise gear but decided there was no point in it for the purpose of just demonstrating a few simple poses.

  She tore through her wardrobe for something that was flattering but still stretchy. A pair of dark blue jeggings she’d only worn once fit the bill. She pulled them on and practiced the stretches she planned to show Isabella to check that the jeggings would allow for full movement. It pleased her that looking in the mirror informed her just how good her ass looked in them. It wasn’t as perfectly rounded as Isabella’s, but it was tight as hell.

  She poured a cup of coffee and munched down two carrots while she waited. She mused that her nervous chewing must make her look like Bugs Bunny.

  Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she looked down at her chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She never did on weekends, unless she was going out of course—one of the perks of having small breasts. They didn’t need the support system.

  Her plaid flannel shirt hid most of the outline of her breasts, but she wondered if the fabric would be thick enough to hide it if her nipples got hard? She swore at herself. It was warm in here, and she was just going to talk to someone and show her some simple exercises. “Chill, you perv,” she muttered into her mug of coffee.

  Time crept at a snail’s pace toward 11 a.m.

  Finally, Erin threw herself at the laptop, already booted up and waiting for the last forty-five minutes. She’d also checked the camera and the sound quality on a two-minute video chat with Erika, who was rooting for her and had made Erin promise to let her know how it went.

  Erin’s stomach felt like it was full of butterflies—drunk, crazy butterflies—all over the place and flying into each other. She felt queasy.

  When her laptop blared out the Skype ringtone, she froze, staring at the little square that informed her IsabellaMartinez1 was calling. She swallowed thickly, wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs, and answered. The screen switched to a camera view of a light, sun-drenched room with a woman front and center.

  The camera showed Isabella wearing a V-neck, black T-shirt, and what looked like the waistband of black yoga pants.

  Unlike the time Erin had accidentally seen her, today she was fully made-up. Her glowing skin looked perfectly even, and her eyes were rimmed, giving her a sultry— almost dangerous—look. Her plump lips gleamed in a way that made Erin think she was wearing tinted lip gloss.

  Erin wondered if she should’ve gone with her first choice of dressier clothes. She shook it off. Maybe Isabella was going out with her son and boyfriend afterward, and that was the reason she looked so great.

  “Good morning,” Isabella said with a tentative smile.

  That voice. That freaking, mesmerizing voice. Erin hit her thigh with her fist to make herself reply and not just sit there staring like an idiot.

  “H-Hi…um…how are you?” Erin hit herself again for stammering.

  “I’m fine, thank you. How are you? Did you manage to get some sleep?”

  “I’m good too. Not a lot, no. Making up for it with extra coffee.” Erin held up her mug as evidence.

  Isabella smiled, and Erin felt her breath catch. The smile faded quickly, and Erin desperately wished it would come back.

  “I’m glad I’m not the only one who failed on the sleep front,” Isabella said darkly.

  “Sorry to hear that. Was it the lil’ man who kept you up?”

  Isabella opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and simply replied, “Yes.”

  Erin’s brain was working overtime. Was Isabella about to say something else? Was something wrong? Had she not slept because she had fought with her boyfriend? Or maybe she had been dreading this chat. Maybe she really didn’t want to do these stretches?

  Isabella tucked her hair behind her ears and cleared her throat. “Anyway, should we get the exercises over and done with? I’m not really comfortable wearing my running pants indoors.”

  Is she going to just take them off when we’re done stretching? With effort, Erin forced the ridiculous thought away, stood up, and said, “Sure, hang on a sec.”

  She moved her chair, pushed the table further away from the wall, and tilted the laptop screen, with its camera, to face down so that Isabella could see her whole body. She wondered why she hadn’t done this before the call started. And why she hadn’t given up on her vanity and just worn her damn exercise gear.

  She’d been so excited to see Isabella that she hadn’t thought this part through. Well, that’s one point in the I-have-a-crush column.

  She looked at the screen. Isabella was standing up too. Her black trousers were a tight, Lycra-like material with reflective stripes on the sides, clearly running pants.

  Erin was about to ask Isabella if she wanted to go out running together one day, then cursed her own stupidity. Different states, Erin. Idiot!

  She could also see that Isabella was surrounded by a large expanse of wooden floor for her to use and still stay on camera. Unlike her, Isabella had clearly prepped properly for the exercises. The floor was nice and looked expensive. However, it looked hard, and that made Erin realize she had forgotten something else.

  “Oh, man. I’m sorry. I forgot to ask you to get a blanket or a thick towel or something to put on the floor. Can you go get something real quick?”

  Isabella looked around. “There is a thick rug behind me. I can pull that over here?”

  “Yeah, that’ll probably do it. Just anything to make you comfy on the floor. Maybe invest in a cheap yoga mat or something if you’re going to do this a lot.”

  “Yes, that’s a good idea.” Isabella said. She walked out of view, probably to drag the rug over to the computer.

  Erin fetched her threadbare yoga mat and rolled it out. She looked at the screen and saw a plush, burgundy rug under Isabella’s feet.

  “Great. Now, can you get on it so I can make sure the camera angle is right?”

  Isabella sat down cross-legged on the mat and gave her a brief smile. Heat filled Erin’s chest and stomach. Isabella fluctuated between looking jaded and completely in control, to that tentative and unsure smile in seconds. It did strange things to Erin’s insides.

  “Right. So, let’s start with child’s pose. It’s a yoga move, and I think it’ll be good to start with. It’s gentle and a really nice stretch for your back.” She knelt down. “Can you still see me all right?”

  “Yes, I can see you,” Isabella said and got down on her knees too.

  “Great. Okay, you’ll want to sit down with your, um, buttocks on your feet. Then spread your knees wide while keeping your toes touching.” Erin demonstrated, then watched Isabella mirror her movements. It was unn
erving, having Isabella look at her so closely. It shouldn’t have been. Clients watched her every day to see how to do their exercises. But this was different. She tried to breathe slowly and ignore the goose bumps forming on her arms.

  “Perfect. Then you bow forward so that your torso is lying between your knees and your forehead is on the floor. When you get to that point, you can choose to either have your arms stretched out in front of you—which I prefer, because I find it stretches my shoulders nicely—or you can have your arms lying by your sides, resting comfortably with your palms up.”

  “I’ll stick with whatever is most efficient.”

  Erin wasn’t sure that efficiency was the point of this pose, more relaxation and stretching. But the last thing she wanted was to overcomplicate things and make Isabella dislike the routine.

  “Whatever works for you, I’ll be stretching my arms out. Okay, so watch me and ask questions if you need to.”

  Erin laid her torso down and stretched her arms out. When Erin had practiced the stretches in her jeggings before, she hadn’t done this pose. She wished she had. The jeggings were fine, but the shirt was riding up her back, exposing far more skin to the camera then she would’ve liked. She started to feel self-conscious again.

  “You look like you are praying to that lamp,” Isabella said in a sarcastic tone.

  Erin gave a snorting laugh while staying in the pose. She knew what Isabella meant. The pose did make people look like they were worshipping whatever was in front of them. Erin had decided to do the pose sideways, so Isabella could see more of her body, and she was facing a hideous floor lamp that she’d bought in a secondhand shop a year ago.

  “Just copy the position, snarkypants,” Erin said, her voice muffled by the pose.

  “Very well,” Isabella muttered.

  Erin counted to five very slowly and then looked up. Isabella was doubled over with her arms out in front of her. She was doing the move sideways too, and Erin got a view of her entire body.