Coffee and Conclusions

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  Isabella scoffed. “I’m not. But thank you, Marie. Talking has helped.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I have to get that call. Bye.”

  Only when she had put the phone down and gone back to play with Alberto in his baby gym did Isabella realize that her headache was abating.

  It was a little after six, and Isabella had finally managed to get her bookcase where she wanted and find the boxes of books to fill the shelves. She was currently contemplating whether to sort the books randomly or alphabetize them.

  The phone rang, and to her great shame, Isabella dropped the scissors on the box and excitedly threw herself at her BlackBerry. She tried to sound calm and unaffected when she answered.

  “Hello, preciosa.”

  “Hey you!” Erin said gleefully.

  Isabella grinned.

  “Okay, so I did some research about tomorrow, during my lunch break. There’s three ways I can get to Philly. Fly, take the train, or get a friend with a car to drive me. I ruled out hitchhiking, because I don’t want to be killed in the back of a Ford. I think it’s too late to get a cheap plane ticket, and I feel bad about asking my friend, Erika, to drive me. So, I think it’ll have to be the train. It’s not cheap, but it’s manageable.”

  Blood rushed in Isabella’s ears. She tried to ignore it. “All right, are the trains cheaper at any point of the day? Alberto and I can be flexible.”

  “Yeah, obviously the times outside of rush hour are cheaper. Are there any particular times when Alberto needs to eat or sleep or something?”

  “No, he’s refused every attempt at a steady routine, I’m afraid. How long does the train ride take? I don’t want you to have to get up at the crack of dawn.”

  “It’s about two hours, so not too bad. What about meeting for afternoon coffee? That way you don’t have to worry about making lunch, and I can sleep late. Unless you want to meet up in the evening?”

  Isabella thought about Erin there, in her home, as the evening got dark and chilly and bedtime loomed closer. No, there was no way she’d resist pulling Erin into bed under those circumstances. Her heart was racing already. Why was she so panicked? The answer hit her square in the chest—because it mattered so much. Because Erin mattered so much to her. She needed to get everything just right with Erin. And, she had to admit, she was frightened by the strength of her emotions.

  “No, afternoon sounds fine,” Isabella finally replied.

  Looking around, she wondered if they should really meet in the mess created by opening boxes. Isabella hated her home being in any sort of disarray, and God forbid, it wasn’t immaculately clean. It didn’t matter if Erin wouldn’t mind, Isabella would. Besides, even in the middle of the day, having a bed and Erin so close to each other could be too much of a temptation.

  “Perhaps you, me, and Alberto should meet out somewhere? There’s a small coffee shop down the road that I saw this morning when I went out to get some groceries. It looked nice and boasted several different coffee roasts. I could, perhaps, get my father to be on standby to come pick up Alberto and babysit if he starts screaming the place down.”

  “Yeah, sure. They say that the first time you meet with someone you met online, you should meet them in a public place. Not just because they might be a serial killer, but also in case you don’t get along, you can just ditch ’em and go home,” Erin said.

  “Ah. Well, that wasn’t the reason for suggesting the coffee shop, but I suppose it makes sense. When did you become so sensible?”

  Erin chuckled. “Just something you hear from peeps who regularly date people they meet online.”

  “I see. Anyway, I suppose I’ll text you the name and address of the coffee shop, and you can just let me know when your train arrives.”

  “It’s a deal. But Isabella?”

  “Yes?”

  “We’re still talking on Skype tonight, aren’t we? Midnight-coffee date?”

  “Certainly. You’ll be in trouble if I don’t see you on Skype in a few hours,” Isabella replied, hearing the joy in her own voice.

  “Awesome. Talk soon. Bye, babe.”

  Isabella hung up and leaned her forehead against her phone, glad that no one saw her acting like a lovesick fool.

  If someone had told her, six months ago, that she would enjoy someone addressing her as babe, she’d have given them a level-ten death glare. Erin had changed everything.

  Chapter 12

  The First Time She Truly Saw Her

  Erin got off the train and entered the main terminal of 30th Street Station. The grandure almost distracted her from her sweaty palms and racing pulse. She was here. In Isabella’s city. Unbelievable.

  Isabella, with the beauty and elegance of a goddess, would be in her arms. Erin would hold her close within the hour.

  She had showered that morning and spritzed on some Adidas, but no preparation could make this day less nerve racking. She swallowed hard and hurried out to hail a taxi.

  After she’d paid the driver, Erin stared at the café sign across the street, trying to force her shoulders to relax and her stomach to stop its nervous churning.

  Weeks and weeks of waiting to finally meet Isabella in the flesh had all led to this moment of the big reveal. Time for her only chance to make a good first impression. Erin almost forgot to breathe, as she made her feet walk forward.

  Through the window, she spotted Isabella sitting at a booth in the chic, yet cozy, café. Erin’s first reaction was the same in person as on camera. The woman she had fallen for was incredibly beautiful…and a bit scary. That starkly dark hair, those passionate eyes, those perfect lips with the small scar and dark-red lipstick, and that almost haughty scowl made Isabella look stunning and imposing, like a Greek goddess about to punish her.

  Isabella looked down at Alberto, sitting comfortably in his car seat next to her. She smiled at him, and her face lit up as if someone had turned on a light, warming her from within. Everything that had been unattainable and intimidating about her features became warm and inviting. Erin had an overwhelming need to rush in and kiss her. She stopped herself. Just. She took a deep breath and walked slowly toward the table, her heart beating so hard it felt like it was trying to fight its way out of her ribcage. Am I blushing already? God, I hope not.

  When Isabella spotted her, her face froze in an anxious look. Erin smiled, hoping it would calm them both. The smile she got back from Isabella eased Erin’s panic, leaving only minor nerves and great excitement in its wake.

  She put her bag on the floor next to the booth, then tucked her hands into her back pockets to keep them from shaking. Her smile felt like it would never go away, as she looked into those warm, intense eyes and simply said, “Hi.”

  “Hello,” Isabella replied in a low, almost shocked-sounding voice. She moved Alberto’s portable car seat to the side and got out of the booth. She stood right in front of Erin and seemed unsure what to do next.

  Erin noticed that they were almost the same height, due to Isabella’s high heels and her own flat sneakers. Her need to break the tension and feel Isabella in her arms kicked in. She lunged forward and pulled Isabella in.

  The woman was clearly caught off guard, and Erin heard a little puff of breath as the impact of their bodies knocked the air out of Isabella’s lungs.

  “Oh God, sorry,” Erin said and gave her room to breathe.

  But she didn’t get far before Isabella caught her by the arms and pulled her back. The hug started over, and Erin allowed herself to lean in and sniff Isabella’s hair. In her nervous state, her brain didn’t register the smell. But she didn’t dare to repeat the gesture and make Isabella think she was some sort of sniffing freak. Still, she did notice that Isabella’s body fit perfectly against her own. Erin had a feeling that they’d fit together even better when they weren’t so tense. She was acutely aware of Isabella’s hands on her. She wanted them to move, t
o caress her, to make her feel safe. Her heart was racing, and she wondered if Isabella could feel it.

  The embrace lasted a little too long, and after a while, it started to feel awkward. Erin backed off. “So, um, it’s really great to finally see you.” She felt like an idiot. She’d seen Isabella plenty of times on Skype. She was about to amend the statement when Isabella spoke.

  “Yes, it is. And slightly surreal, I must say.”

  “I know, right? I suddenly feel like we’re strangers, but at the same time, I know you really well. Mostly…I’m just so damn happy to be close to you. God, I’m so impressed with other couples who do long distance for like a year or something before meeting up. I think I’d explode.”

  Isabella smirked and looked less tense for a moment. “Did you just say ‘other couples,’ preciosa?”

  Erin’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt blood rushing to her cheeks. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t blow this right off the bat.

  “Shit! I didn’t mean we’re a couple. I mean, other people who, um, happen to be couples.”

  “I know what you meant, Erin. It’s okay. Sit down. Unless you want to go order us some coffee while I stay here with Alberto? I saved up my morning coffee ration to have some now, and I’m starting to feel the withdrawal symptoms.”

  Erin dried off her clammy palms on the back of her jeans. “Sure. What do you want?”

  “Regular, black coffee. Dark roast, if they ask.”

  “Sure. Mind if I have cake or something? I’m feeling kinda peckish.”

  Isabella moved Alberto and sat down. “Of course not.”

  Erin stood in the line to order their drinks and decided on a flapjack to have with her coffee. It was impossible not to fidget as she waited, and she soon found herself touching her hair to check that the train ride hadn’t flattened the curls she had worked so hard on that morning.

  When she reached the barista, she was regaled with the full menu of origins and roasts, but Erin was too frazzled with nerves to remember more than scattered words like Arabica, low acidity, and something about nuts. She simply ordered two black, dark roast coffees. It was only when the barista turned that she remembered to ask for a flapjack too. She had to get her head in the game.

  Balancing their order on a tray, she had a terrible vision of getting to the booth and dropping everything and burning Isabella and Alberto with steaming coffee. Erin bit her lip and made herself focus.

  “Ah, there we go. Coffee at last.” Isabella stared at the mug Erin placed before her.

  Erin sat down and tucked into her flapjack, while Isabella blew on her steaming hot coffee. After a while, Erin asked, “So, how did the move go?”

  “Surprisingly well. In fact, this might be my first move without any minor disasters.”

  Isabella took a sip, her lips leaving dark-red marks on the white mug. Erin was mesmerized. Nerves made her lick her own lips, and she tasted the chemical flavor of her Chapstick.

  Stop staring at her mouth, Black! Chill.

  “That’s good. You guys settling in okay?”

  Isabella nodded as she put the mug down. “So far, so good, yes. The neighbors seem quiet, which is always a relief.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  There was a long, uncomfortable moment of silence, while Isabella sat rigidly with an unreadable look on her face. “How was your train ride?” she finally asked.

  “Uh, fine. The worn seats were surprisingly comfy and I had great views out of a dirty window. I love seeing cities rush past and trying to guess who lives in all those houses.”

  Erin’s nerves were growing. Something was wrong. She could feel it. She’d worried that Isabella would find her boring, but boredom wasn’t the vibe she was getting, neither was normal nervousness. Was she imagining the weird mood?

  The minutes ticked along, and Erin focused on eating her snack. As she ate, Erin furtively glanced at Isabella, who was definitely uncomfortable. Stress was clearly evident in her body language. Chewing and swallowing a bite of the flapjack, Erin considered how she could make Isabella relax.

  “Hey, Martinez. Are you okay? Is this a bit too much too soon, or something?”

  Isabella looked up, almost startled. “What? No, I’m fine.”

  “Come on, I can tell you’re uncomfortable. Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”

  “Seeing right through me, huh? Does this mean that dating a woman is going to make it impossible for me to hide my emotions?” Isabella said with a forced smile.

  “No, not necessarily. I don’t know if women are always better at emotions, but I’m not too bad, if I say so myself. And with you, well, I can tell when you’re putting up a front. Oh—and right now, I know you’re trying to change the subject.”

  Isabella shifted in her seat, and her brows knitted. “I…well, I suppose I’m just not sure how to behave. I’ve been very different with you compared to the way I am normally. Talking to you online, I’ve been more open and honest. More vulnerable, I suppose. Less prickly and sarcastic than normal too. Now we’re meeting in real life, and I feel very self-conscious.”

  Erin put her fork down and shrugged. “Well…that right there was pretty honest and open. Listen, don’t worry about it. I like you, even when you are sarcastic. I know it’s the dumbest cliché ever, but please, just be yourself.”

  Isabella’s smile still looked forced. “Clichés become clichés because there’s a lot of truth to them. I’m just not sure how to ‘be myself’ right now. That’s the issue.”

  At the sound of Alberto’s coo, Isabella reached over to play with his foot, adjusting her son’s little sock, which was sliding down a bit.

  Is she avoiding my gaze on purpose? Erin took a sip of her coffee. She wanted Isabella as calm and happy with her up close and personal as she was online. Erin put the cup down and looked at the salt and pepper shakers next to her.

  “I just thought of something. I never told you about how I used to think New Yorkers were crazy, did I?”

  Isabella furrowed her brow. “No, I think I would have remembered that.”

  Erin chuckled. “Okay, long story time. You ready?”

  Isabella rolled her hand for Erin to continue.

  “I was twenty-two, and I’d moved around a lot, not really feeling at home anywhere. I guess it’s hard to put down roots when you don’t learn how to as a kid. My friend, Julian, who I met at a group home when I was about fourteen, told me I’d like New York. So I went. In this diner, in Queens, he introduced me to his roommate, Susan. Then he just took off, saying he had to go get something. That’s typical Julian behavior, so I didn’t worry about it.”

  Erin took another sip of her coffee. “Anyway, Susan was a bottle blonde in her late twenties and seemed pretty normal at first. She was looking for a new roomie, because Julian was moving out. Without my knowledge, this had become an interview for roommate candidates. Anyway, at one point, this woman poured a bunch of salt on the table and drew a heart with her finger. She pointed at it and asked me what I thought it was. I answered that it looked like a heart, and she—get this—she reached over and slapped my forehead. Hard. She said I was brainwashed by rom-coms.”

  Isabella had a puzzled look and laughed with the air of someone barely believing what she was hearing. She also seemed more at ease, so Erin forged on.

  “I sorta rubbed at my forehead and decided I was not living with this woman, but I stayed polite. I asked her what it was actually meant to be, if not a heart. She said it was a symbol of how love—in the symbol of that heart—looks sweet and sugary, but if you get a real taste, it’s salty and really bad for you.”

  Holding up her hand to stop Isabella from saying what they were both thinking, Erin said, “I know, sort of true, but mainly crazypants. Anyway, she kept talking about how her roommate couldn’t burn incense, wake up earlier than eight thirty, or have an
y stuffed toys. I just nodded along and got the hell outta there as soon as I could. I actually had a bruise the next day. Can you believe that?”

  With an amazed chuckle, Isabella’s gaze focused on Erin. Her hand rested on Alberto’s, who was focusing hard on the task of trying to grab at her fingers. Erin took another sip of her coffee and carried on.

  “Despite this kinda scary start, I moved to New York and lived with this awesome guy called Rashan that my friend Luke was dating at the time. After a little while, Luke and Rashan convinced me to go out on a date with a woman they’d met at a club. So we went out for drinks. A little into the date, this chick asks the bartender for salt. When she gets handed the shaker, she pours salt on the bar, makes a heart in it, then asks what I think it is.”

  Isabella’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. I was freaking out, thinking that either all New Yorkers are crazy, or this is some kind of cultural reference from a TV show.”

  “Well, what did you say?”

  Erin shrugged. “Hoping for the best, I very hesitantly answered that it looked like a heart. She shouted ‘Wrong,’ then leaned over and slapped my forehead. She hit a lot gentler than Susan did, but still! Then she looked at my horrified face and started laughing. It turned out that Julian had told Luke what happened with Susan, and he’d asked my date to recreate that scene to mess with me.”

  Chuckling again, Isabella took a sip of her coffee before answering. “What did you do? On your date, I mean?”

  Erin gave another shrug. “I laughed, and then we continued chatting and having drinks. I think she took me back to her place afterward, but I can’t really remember. The heart thing was kinda the most memorable event of the evening.”

  “Well, I suppose the sex couldn’t have been that great then,” Isabella said with a wink.

  Erin’s face burned, and she smiled slightly. “No. Guess not.”

  Isabella smiled back. “I’m glad the joke didn’t scare you off your beloved New York, nor dating.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. If it had scared me off dating, I might not have ended up with Katie.” Erin stopped and was quiet for a second before adding, “Actually, that’s not fair. I have lots of great memories from that relationship, and I learned a lot. I wouldn’t want to wish that away.”