Coffee and Conclusions

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  Finally, Isabella thought as she looked at Erin’s face on her screen later that morning. It almost felt like she had been holding her breath since she last saw Erin and only properly exhaled now. Erin. There she was—right there and always so happy to see her. Wearing only shorts and an oversized T-shirt, she was sitting with her legs drawn up on her chair, her hair uncombed, a big coffee mug in hand, and that radiant smile on her elfin features.

  “Hey, babe,” Erin said.

  Her voice was a little croaky from sleepiness and had lost its usual clarity. Isabella found it endearing. She laughed at herself, as she noted how far gone she was already. She had to force herself to keep strong and take this slow. If she didn’t, she just might ruin the second-best thing to ever happen to her—Alberto obviously being number one.

  She saw Erin knit her brows in confusion. “What’s so funny?”

  Isabella sighed. “You, preciosa. You are far too wonderful and beautiful to be real. It’s almost criminal, you know.”

  She made a point of keeping it light, to bury her deeper feelings—for now, at least. She was sure Erin knew, but neither of them were ready yet. Well, Isabella wasn’t.

  “I doubt that.” Erin tucked some of her tousled hair behind her ear in a self-conscious gesture. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I made up for it by sleeping late this morning. I just got up and probably look like crap.”

  “No, you don’t. I like you all dressed up and in makeup, but I like you au naturel too. You’re adorable.” Realizing how sappy she was getting, Isabella straightened up. “Anyway, I’m sorry you didn’t get any sleep. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked for another midnight coffee date yesterday?”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t have slept anyway. Insomnia mixed with being overexcited from our date isn’t a good recipe for sleep. I don’t care, though. I feel like I don’t even need sleep anymore. Or food. Or exercise. I just need you.”

  Isabella blew out a breath. There it was, the proof that Erin was in as deep as she was. She wasn’t sure if she felt relief or anxiety or a weird mix of the two, and that was…worrying. What was more worrisome was that it didn’t seem to matter. She had a burning need to ask about seeing Erin again.

  “So, do you still feel as positive about our first date as you did when we discussed it on Skype last night?”

  A shy smile spread on Erin’s face. “Hell, yeah.”

  Isabella took a deep breath, then took the metaphoric leap. “Then perhaps you would like to do it again? I know it is a long way for you to travel. I’d offer to come to New York, but it is rather difficult with Alberto.”

  “Sure, sure, I totally get that. No, I’ll come to you. The train ride gives me a chance to read some new comics and play on my phone.”

  “Wonderful. I can lend you some good books, if you want. I assume you can’t come during the week because of work. But if you come next weekend, that gives you more time to book a ticket anyway. Oh, and I’d like to pay for the ticket. You paid to travel here last time, and for our coffee too. This time, I want it to be my treat.”

  She saw Erin scratch her head as she considered the suggestion. “Yeah, all right. I pay half of my money in rent for this place, so I’m not gonna say no to being treated. As long as you can afford it?”

  “Certainly. Just tell me how much it cost when you get here, and I’ll have money for you. Thank you for letting me pay. It makes me feel more at ease with making you travel all this way to see me. Well…us.” Isabella clarified with a nod in Alberto’s direction.

  Erin swallowed a sip of coffee. “Okay. I’ll look into train tickets, and we can talk about it later.”

  Why didn’t Erin want to decide it all right away? Isabella realized how fretting and impatient she was being and forced herself to relax.

  “Good.” She fished for a smooth way to change the topic. “Oh, by the way, Alberto and I listened to some more of your music while I had breakfast. Alberto didn’t do much dancing. I think he was a little tired after his Skype chat with his father.”

  Erin laughed. “Did you?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Dance. Did you dance?”

  Hoping that Erin wouldn’t notice her discomfort, Isabella looked to the side, pretending to check on Alberto in his baby gym. “Well, no. I don’t really dance, unless I have a partner.”

  “Then we’ll just have to dance to some of the best tunes together.” Erin’s smile faded a little into a more bashful one. “I think I know just the one, actually.”

  Isabella looked back to the screen. “Really? Which one?”

  Erin’s gaze flitted away, and she scratched the back of her neck. “Have you gotten to the folder with the Siouxsie and the Banshees songs yet?”

  “Hmm, no,” Isabella answered.

  She saw Erin bite her lip and look away for a second, as if in embarrassment. “There’s, uh, a song there called The Last Beat Of My Heart. There was a moment…” Erin paused and licked her lips nervously. “When you were still with Richard, when I thought about you and about that song. It’s, uh—well, let’s just say I think it would be a nice song for us to dance to.”

  There was something there, Isabella was sure of it. Something Erin wasn’t saying about that song made Isabella intensely curious. Were the lyrics sexy? What sort of things had Erin thought about that night? Was her current discomfort due to her dirty thoughts about someone who had been in a relationship? Or were the lyrics romantic?

  She sensed that Erin had said all she wanted to. Isabella smiled noncommittally. “I’ll make sure to give it my full attention.”

  “Good. Yeah, do that,” Erin said in a relieved tone.

  Still smiling as reassuringly as she could, Isabella asked Erin about the clients she had in the upcoming week and led the conversation back to its normal, relaxed nature. And the hours fell away.

  Isabella thought she’d spoken to everyone she was going to that day. But shortly after dinner, her phone rang. She put down the picture she’d been about to hang and answered.

  “¡Hola!” her father said.

  Isabella rubbed her left temple with her free hand. She was too tired for Spanish tonight. Unlike her father, it was her second language and she had to concentrate on it.

  “Hi, Daddy. Do you mind if we speak English today? I’m finding it hard to focus with…everything that’s going on.”

  There was a beat of silence. “Of course. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you.”

  Switching languages wasn’t a big deal for him. But speaking in Spanish when they were alone together had become a sort of pact between them. It was the language Alberto Sr.’s father had brought with him from Puerto Rico and the language he taught his son at home. It was a way of acknowledging their heritage and maintaining something they shared that her mother couldn’t control. It wasn’t to exclude Judith. They always spoke English when she was a part of the conversation. Well, almost always.

  Alberto had tried to teach Judith Spanish, but Judith had struggled. She said her brain was wired for logic, not for frivolous things like languages. Even after all these years, she barely knew enough Spanish to follow a conversation.

  “How is little ’Beto?”

  “He’s fine. Sleeping soundly at the moment, despite the noise I’m making with moving furniture and hanging pictures.”

  “Good. He needs his sleep. I’m sorry to bother you, mi vida. But I wanted to speak with you. Regarding your mother.”

  “You never bother me,” she lied, trying to spare his feelings. “What about her?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know if I should tell you this. It’s nothing, really. She is only curious about your life and wants the best for you. But I know we lost you for some time after your mother disapproved of you moving to Florida with Richard. Now that we have you back…I just want to keep our relationship intact
and drama free.”

  “I understand, Daddy. Tell me what she’s done.” Isabella hoped she’d managed to make her voice sound neutral. The muscles in her jaw tightened so hard, she wondered if he could hear it over the phone.

  “Judith has been trying to press me for information about you and your, well, your love life. I’ve told her that I know nothing about it, but she doesn’t believe me. She’s sure you have confided in me.”

  Isabella swallowed hard. “About my love life?”

  “Yes. She is convinced you’re dating someone and hiding it from her. And she has jumped to the conclusion that it must be someone we—or, rather, she—will disapprove of.”

  “I see.” Isabella closed her eyes. It was a good thing that she had put the hammer down before taking the call. Otherwise, there was a strong chance that she would have smashed it into the wall by now. I knew this would happen. I knew she couldn’t just leave me alone.

  “I don’t want to cause any problems between you two by telling you this. She loves you very much and just wants to be a part of your life,” Alberto said.

  “She wants to be the controller of my life.”

  “Isabella, por favor—”

  She cut him off. “You know it’s true. Anyway, thank you for telling me. Don’t worry. Some snooping and wild assumptions aren’t going to make me stop talking to her. Or you. Just…next time she asks, remind her that I am a grown woman and that she doesn’t get to decide what I do with my life. I do.”

  “I will try.” He sighed again. “But we both know she won’t listen.”

  He sounded apologetic, and for a moment, Isabella let herself hope he was starting to understand that his rosy image of his wife wasn’t based on reality. But that was probably just wishful thinking on her part.

  “I know, Daddy. I should get back to hanging my painting. Thank you for the heads-up.”

  “I love you, Isabella,” he said quietly.

  “I love you too. Try not to worry about all of this. Have a good night.”

  She hung up and took a deep breath. What do I do if she decides to put her foot down again and “forbid” me from seeing Erin?

  Although it made her stomach ache, she knew the answer to the question. She’d have to do what she did when her mother forbade her to move in with Richard and have his child—cut her out of her life. The tragic part was that it meant cutting her father out of her life too, as he refused to stand up to her.

  She’d hoped her father would be a part of her and Alberto’s life now. She looked forward to introducing him to Erin, eventually, and seeing how well they got on. She could only hope that her mother wouldn’t ruin it all.

  Chapter 14

  Don’t Mess This Up

  Erin stood up from the leg press machine and wiped the sweat off her forehead. Her quads throbbed, and she grimaced at the pain. She might have overdone it a bit.

  She had been punishing herself for being so stupid yesterday. How in the world could she have told Isabella about The Last Beat of My Heart and when she’d listened to it? Isabella would hear the song now and probably realize that, while she and her boyfriend were trying to make their relationship work and make a family for their baby, Erin was lying in bed weeping…and wishing.

  Why the hell had she told her? Perhaps because the song stayed with her as she thought about being with Isabella. Still, it was probably going to scare Isabella away, or at least make her think Erin was way too sappy and selfish for worrying about the possibility of her own broken heart when she should have been thinking about Isabella’s difficult situation.

  “Good mornin’, Er.”

  Erin jolted back to the present and the voice at her side.

  “Want some breakfast? It’s banana flavor.” Chris Nash extended his protein shake to her.

  She looked at the creamy, light-yellow drink that normally would have enticed her and grimaced. “No, I ate when I got up. Like normal people.”

  He looked at her like she had just slapped him. “Whoa. I know it’s Monday morning, but that’s a little too crabby. Especially for you. You’re usually the nicest person in here.”

  “Crap. I’m sorry, Chris,” she said to his hurt-puppy face. She put her hand on his shoulder to show her sincerity and make him smile.

  “It’s fine. Let me guess. Relationship trouble?”

  “Yeah. Or no. I don’t know. I think I’m just on the verge of getting into a relationship, but with my track record…I’m kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” he said softly. “I get that you’re scared. Change is always scary, because it can lead to everything going to hell. But you still have to try.” He carried on, despite her skeptical look. “Try looking at it this way. You’re really lucky that you’ve found something new and interesting, something that wakes you up and makes you willing to risk everything. The rest of us, well, we’re just trudging on the same old tracks.”

  Smiling at the annoyed frown on his chiseled face, Erin asked, “Feeling a bit bored with things, Chris?”

  He blew out a breath. “You could say that. Between the gym and living next door to my sweet but clingy mom, I’m going stir crazy. I just want to get away from the responsibility some days. Just take off and see what else is out there. Maybe start dating or just be by myself for a while. Just…”

  “Something new?”

  He rubbed at his square jaw and shrugged. “Yeah. Just some change. See? You have that. Scary as it may be, you have something new and exciting on your horizon. Make the most of it, Er.”

  She squeezed his shoulder. “You know, you’re not as dumb as you look, pretty boy.”

  He grinned. “Oooh, you think I’m pretty?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m gay, not blind. You’re like an ocean view. I can appreciate the beauty, even if I don’t want to sleep with it.” Erin put her hand up to stop his reply. “I just meant that you have a point. I mean, it’s not going to stop me from freaking out, but it’s something to keep in mind.”

  “Of course I have a point. And you have a client in five minutes, if I’m not mistaken. Stop working out, and start working.” He chuckled, then took a big gulp from his protein shake.

  Erin stuck her tongue out at him but dutifully walked over to reception to wait for her next client.

  By late afternoon, Erin had said good-bye to her last client of the day. She’d managed to focus fully on work and keep her mind off her personal life. A rare luxury these days.

  She was about to shower and head home, when she stopped and thought about seeing Isabella again. When they’d spoken about meeting up again, she’d wanted to book a ticket right away and plan every second they’d have together in miniscule detail.

  That’s when it had grabbed her, like a cold hand on her shoulder. Her head filled with anxious little demons that just wouldn’t shut up. She’d worried so much about coming on too strong, because Isabella might get hurt that until that point, she hadn’t stopped to seriously think about her own part in this relationship.

  It was her MO—her modus operandi—to mess up human interactions—badly. What if she ruined this and Isabella stopped talking to her? What if getting all sentimental and talking about that song freaked Isabella out? Or what if trying to help Isabella get in touch with her sexual side was the wrong thing to do? What if, in the long run, Isabella would’ve been better off with Richard instead of alone with a kid or dating a sad loner who can’t even sleep like a normal person? What if she was terrible with Alberto?

  There were so many ways this could go wrong. And if Erin’s history had taught her anything, it was that things never turned out well. People shouldn’t love her, because it always ended badly…and then they left. She never figured out how, but she always managed to screw it up, and everyone—every single one—had to get away from her. The parents who hadn’t wanted her. The friends
who’d come and gone. Foster parents who had mostly just gone. Social workers who drifted her case file from one desk to another like a snowflake on the wind. Katie…who shattered everything inside her.

  Could she risk that again? Her feelings for Isabella were already so strong, how would she make it through if it all went up in smoke? She’d barely survived Katie’s betrayal, and she hadn’t felt for Katie a tenth of what she already felt for Isabella. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—survive another broken heart.

  Blood rushed through her veins and pounded in her ears, until all she could hear was the thunderous drum roll of her heart approaching its peak. She wasn’t sure how much more it could take before it would explode. Her palms were sweaty, and it felt like her skin was crawling with…something.

  She needed to quiet her anxiety. She needed to regain some semblance of control, and Erin knew only one way that worked for her. She needed to stay and work off her demons, not go home. Home would be too quiet, would give her too much time to think. She’d be climbing the walls, having a goddamn panic attack in seconds. Home would be a disaster. Right now, she needed to not feel, to not think. She needed to keep moving.

  She sent a text to Isabella saying that she’d be home and ready to Skype after eight and headed over to a rowing machine. After three strokes, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Maybe she should’ve gone home to talk to Isabella? Or to one of her friends? No, she decided, that wasn’t her thing.

  She hunkered down and rowed harder. She needed to clear the cobwebs and quiet the voices in her head. This was the only way to make everything simple, manageable. No matter what was happening in her life, working out was therapy. Temporary therapy, maybe. But it had never let her down.

  When Erin got home, hair still damp after the bracing, cold shower at the gym, she fished her phone out of her bag and saw the text from Isabella. She was apparently trying to get Alberto to sleep and might be a little while.

  Erin combed some leave-in conditioner through her hair, made coffee, and stood to watch the evening paint the sky in pinks and blues. The brooding dusk suited her melancholy mood perfectly.