She kept sipping at her juice, Alberto kept eating his breakfast, and Isabella switched between sending Erin loving glances and stroking Alberto’s head. Occasionally, Alberto would tug a little on the hair, but Erin didn’t mind. She’d made both him and Isabella happy, and that was an amazing feeling. Well worth any discomfort.
When Alberto had eaten, it was time for Erin and Isabella to have their breakfast. Alberto snoozed in his baby bouncer, as they sat at the table, handing each other plates of breakfast foods that Isabella had rustled up, and sneaking glances at each other.
“Is everything all right? I mean, are we all right?”
Erin swallowed a mouthful of her yogurt and granola. She put the spoon back in the bowl as she thought about how to answer that. “Yeah. I mean, um, I think so. I mean, last night was…”
“Incredible?” Isabella said and looked down coquettishly.
Erin burst out laughing. “I’m glad you thought so. And yeah, that was kinda what I was thinking too. I’m really happy. I just don’t know what we do now, today, I mean.”
“Whatever we want.” Isabella looked back up and made eye contact. “The day is ours. If you want to stay, that is? You have to be back at work for tomorrow, but that still gives us all day before your train home. If we were in different cities, we’d probably end up talking on Skype. So let’s talk, but we’ll do it right here where we can reach out and touch each other if we like. Does that sound okay to you?”
Erin’s heart felt like it was too big to fit in her ribcage. She knew she was grinning like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it. She imagined doing everyday things while holding Isabella’s hand or reaching over to kiss her.
“I’d really like that. Maybe we could take a walk in the park with lil’ man? Or just a long walk around town so I can see some of Philadelphia?”
“That’s a terrific idea. It will have to wait, though.”
“Because we haven’t finished breakfast?” Erin asked and ate another spoonful.
“Well, yes, but also because he’s busy,” Isabella said and pointed to Alberto, who was napping soundly in his bouncer.
Erin smiled at him. It was so less scary when he slept. The worst thing she could do then was wake him up.
“Yeah. We’ll wait until the kid has gotten his post-breakfast nap in.”
Nodding her agreement, Isabella swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. When she finished, she looked deep into Erin’s eyes and teasingly asked, “Whatever shall we do until he wakes up?”
Erin pushed her bowl of granola away and stood, grabbing Isabella’s hand and pulling her toward the bedroom. Isabella laughed, scrambled out of her chair, and followed.
The sun was setting, and their day had been lovely. From the morning lovemaking to the long walk, to hours of looking at pictures of Alberto. There had also been old pictures from Isabella’s childhood that her mother had scanned into the computer. The day was perfect.
Evening loomed, and Erin had to take the 8:35 p.m. train back to New York. She would have plenty of time to shower and hopefully catch up on some sleep before Thursday morning and work.
They decided against cooking and ordered sushi instead, eating it while cuddled on the sofa. Food wrappers and boxes finally trashed, Erin lay across the couch with her head in Isabella’s lap. There was still time before she had to leave, and Erin was struggling to decide how to spend the precious moments.
Isabella combed her fingers through Erin’s hair and mumbled, “I missed a bit here.”
Erin grimaced and got slapped on the arm for it. Before they went for their walk, Isabella had decided that Erin was going nowhere with her hair so tangled. Armed with Erin’s leave-in conditioner from her overnight kit and a fancy hairbrush, Isabella fought valiantly with her long, unruly locks until they were smooth and sleek. Erin tried to be brave about the rough brushing at first, but soon realized it was more fun to whine when it hurt and either be consoled with a kiss or get that adorable quirked eyebrow and an eye roll. Messing with Isabella was one of her favorite things; Isabella allowing it was another.
Satisfied that she’d gotten the last tangle, Isabella surprised her by asking, “So, you want to talk about that song?”
Erin’s brow furrowed. “What song?”
“That Siouxsie and the Banshees song that you mentioned listening to and thinking about us. Back when I was still with Richard?”
For the first time that day, Erin felt a distinct feeling of fear taking root deep in her chest. “The Last Beat Of My Heart?” She wished, once again, that she’d never told Isabella about that. “Uh, yeah, I suppose we can talk about it.”
“I listened to it. It’s melancholy, but hauntingly beautiful. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”
Unsure of what to say, Erin nodded.
Isabella, as usual, picked up the slack. “I think I understand why it was important to you at that particular juncture, but I could have misinterpreted it.”
“Shoot, and I’ll let you know,” Erin muttered, her eyes closed against the uncomfortable conversation that was marring their otherwise perfect day.
“Well, listening to the lyrics, it seemed to me to be about someone who had been hurt in the past and had some…bad experiences. But now that person had found someone, or something, that was precious, but they weren’t certain they deserved it, or that they could have it.”
Worrying the wristband of her FitWatch, Erin almost whispered, “Yeah. That’s pretty much how I interpret it too. It stuck in my head when I realized I was falling for you and that you weren’t mine to fall for. You were so incredible, and every bit of me wanted to be with you, but you were with Richard, and the two of you were trying to make your relationship work for Alberto’s sake. I felt selfish and horrible for wanting you to be with me instead.”
Isabella put her hand on Erin’s to stop them from toying with the wristband and to get her full attention. “Leaving Richard was the right thing to do, and afterward, taking a break to get back on my feet was the right thing too. But now, I think the right thing is to do what the lyrics of that song say. To stay close to you until the last beat of my heart.” Isabella winked at her. “Or until you get tired of dating a daydreaming writer and her spoiled little baby.”
Erin smiled, trying to hide her insecurity. Every part of her hoped that Isabella’s words were true. But there was still that tug of fear in her chest. No one ever stayed. No one ever let her stay. Well, if this relationship ended, it sure as hell wouldn’t be her who was going. She was going to fight for this. “Never gonna happen, babe,” she said. “I’m sticking around.”
Isabella brought her hand up to her mouth and gently kissed it. “Good. Because you can ask for this, Erin. You deserve to be happy and in love. And I think I do too. We’ve both done our time feeling lonely and thinking we didn’t deserve any better.”
The assurance made Erin jump up, suddenly feeling lighter. “Enough talking. Great music shouldn’t just be talked about, it should be listened to, even if it’s played on a crappy cell phone.”
She got her phone out and located The Last Beat of My Heart. Isabella accepted the proffered phone without pause. “I told you about this song, because I wanted to dance to it with you, and I guess there’s no time like the present. May I have this dance, Ms. Martinez?”
As she got up, Isabella nodded, then stopped to tug her trouser legs down. Those slacks of hers were way too tight and had been riding up her legs all day, but Erin wasn’t going to complain. Isabella looked so much more casual than usual. Gone were the suits and designer dresses. Instead, she wore tight, black slacks, and a taupe turtleneck sweater. Erin cuddled her face into the amazing softness of that sweater, when she pulled Isabella into her embrace. Isabella’s left hand slid under Erin’s hair and along her neck. The other snaked around her back, as the lyrics started. Erin closed her eyes and held Isabella tighter, beginn
ing to dance.
They moved slowly, hesitant at first, as they both seemed inclined to lead. It took only a few missteps and fits of embarrassed laughter before they were in sync, until it felt natural. Erin grinned triumphantly into Isabella’s shoulder.
The song was set on repeat. As it started over, Erin hoped Isabella wouldn’t pull away. She didn’t. In fact, she nuzzled into Erin’s hair, her mouth brushing Erin’s ear. Erin shivered with pleasure.
They danced to it three times before Erin had to leave, and the song stayed with her long after. On the train back to New York, she found herself humming, feeling her heart switch between pulsing joy at Isabella loving her back and aching pain at not being able to sleep in Isabella’s arms that night.
She vowed she’d do whatever it took to get them in the same city and under the same roof just as soon as was humanly possible. To do that, she’d need a nest egg.
Chapter 21
Much Loved Nuisance
Isabella sat at her table, sipping her morning coffee. She’d saved it for after breakfast, a breakfast dessert of sorts. As soon as she stopped breastfeeding, she’d drink gallons, but for now, each cup was savored.
She smiled. Her coffee rationing was a bit like getting to see Erin in the flesh. All she wanted now was more of each of her addictions and to race to the day when she could have her fill of them both—but in the future, when they were used to each other. Would she miss the bittersweet torment of her current intense, crazy need for Erin? Or would she be relieved that the emotional roller coaster was in the past and that she could have as much coffee and Erin as she could possibly want?
Erin. She missed Erin far more than coffee, more than she’d ever missed anything or anyone. It was as if life only made sense now when Erin was there with her. Erin’s calm presence and joie de vivre had become part of Isabella, and her world already felt dull without it.
Her landline phone rang. Isabella picked up the cordless phone and heard Marie’s chirpy “Hello.”
“Good morning, nuisance.”
“Did you just call me nuisance?” Marie shot back. “Why do I talk to you again?”
“Because my witty rudeness is delightful?”
Marie laughed. “That’s up for debate. You do sound like you are in a good mood, though, sugar pie. Could that have anything to do with a certain visit from a certain personal trainer?”
Isabella smirked. “I’m not going to deny that.”
Marie’s voice sounded unimpressed. “Well, that isn’t the most flowery, romantic thing I have ever heard. Oh, come on, Isabella. Let me hear how thrilled you are, sweetie pie. Are you over the moon? Are you walking on sunshine?”
“I’m not going to buy into your clichés. Nor do I appreciate you calling me various nicknames ending with pie. I am, however, happy and very much in love.”
Marie gave an ear-piercing squeal of joy.
“Calm down,” Isabella complained through the beaming smile she couldn’t shake.
“I’m just glad to hear you sounding so cheerful. You haven’t sounded like this since the day Alberto was born.”
Isabella furrowed her brow. “I seem to recall that the day Alberto was born, I threatened to pull your ears off and stuff them in your handbag.”
“During labor, yes, because you needed someone to scream at. But when he was born and the worst of the pain was gone, you had this tone in your voice. A tone I had never heard before. It was sort of…unguarded and unapologetically happy. I can’t remember that tone from when we were kids or ever since, actually. Until now. And it’s so great to hear.”
Isabella didn’t know what to say. For a moment, she was surprised to know that this “tone” had broken through her usual controlled front. But then again, Erin could probably break through the Great Wall of China with her charm and sweetness.
“She’s…something else, Marie. I think you’ll like her,” Isabella said softly.
“Oh honey pie—I mean, honey, I’m sure I will. Anyone who can get you to relax and be happy is A-plus in my book. I’m going be her best friend.”
Alberto began to grizzle in his baby gym, and Isabella went to pick him up, causing a pause in the conversation. “Sorry, I had to go get Alberto. He likes her too, actually. Well, as much as a baby can like someone who isn’t their primary caregiver. She lets him play with her hair, pokes his tummy, and buys him toys.”
“Sounds like she likes him too,” Marie chirped.
Isabella hesitated. “I hope so. I think she’s a little frightened of him.”
“Frightened of him, or of babies in general?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t think she dislikes babies, though. She’s crazy about animals and a very warm, nurturing person. I’ll get to the bottom of it. Now, I just want to arrange our next date,” Isabella said a little wistfully.
“So, do you feel different about her now that you have met her in person?”
Isabella thought about that. “No, not really. I knew I was in love with her before. Talking for hours and hours, especially in the safety and anonymity of online chats, meant I got to know her well before I even saw her pretty face on the screen, never mind seeing her in person. If I’m more cheerful now than other times after talking to her, it’s because we, um, crossed a significant barrier.”
Marie gasped. “You slept with her!”
Rocking Alberto and sighing, Isabella replied, “Yes. Please don’t make a big deal of that or ask for details or anything else inappropriate. I only mentioned it because it was sort of this unspoken question between us—if I’d be comfortable having sex with another woman. It…went well, though. We’ve dealt with that now, and we’re very compatible in bed. Now we can focus again on the emotional and practical stuff.”
“But you are still going to sleep with her every time she comes over, right? I mean you have to make the most of it, for heaven’s sake.”
“Marie Bowman, that’s none of your business.”
“I’m just saying that you can’t see her that often, so you should take it when you can get it, if you catch my drift.”
“Yes, I catch it a little too well. Change the subject, please,” Isabella muttered while putting Alberto back in his baby gym.
For some reason, Marie had been impervious to Isabella’s parents’ particular brand of modesty when it came to talking about anything private. Her biological parents must have been more open—much more open—but Isabella couldn’t remember.
For Marie, very little was off the table when it came to girl talk. It never ceased to amaze Isabella how the saccharine-sweet and innocent-looking Marie could go on and on about sex, simply claiming, “Oh honey, it’s all natural. It’s only a big deal if you make it one.” According to Marie, “that’s the power of managing your thought patterns.” She claimed it helped you banish your shame and just be open. It had never worked on Isabella. She sometimes wanted to scream until her sister developed more decorum. This conversation was no exception.
Clueless—or at least pretending to be—to Isabella’s discomfort, Marie replied, “Okay. Hmm. So, I mean, you said ‘no details,’ but is it true that lesbians just keep climaxing until someone falls asleep?”
“Marie!”
“Sorry, sorry. Fine. All right, we’ll talk about my amorous adventures instead. How are we on the handsome-gym-owner front?”
“Erin’s told him all about you, and I e-mailed her a great picture of you to send to him. So I assume you’ll hear from him any time now.”
“Yeah, right. Like I’m just going to sit here and wait for him to call me. This isn’t 1917. Give me his number, I’ll text him. He sounds wonderful, and it’s not like I’m afraid of rejection, it’s a natural part of life.”
“Apparently, he likes positive, overachieving women, so I’d say you are unlikely to get any form of rejection.”
&nbs
p; “Naturally. I’m one hell of a catch.”
Isabella rolled her eyes. “Is that the positive thinking talking or just your inflated ego?”
“Isabella!”
“Fine, fine. You’re a catch. At least for lobotomized people with exceedingly low standards.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Marie grumbled.
“I’m asking Erin for his number right now,” Isabella said while texting Erin.
“Okay, just hurry up. I’m not having you coupling up and leaving me the sad spinster. Judith would never let me forget it. Not that there is anything wrong with being single. Being single is only a problem if you don’t want to be. That’s my issue. You were always the one happy with focusing on your career, while I wanted a family. Look at us now. You’ve got a brilliant kid and a cool girlfriend, while I’m crying into my solo cup of ginseng tea.”
Isabella sighed at her sister’s whining. “Calm down. I’m doing it now.”
“Good. Hearing you so blissful makes me want to be in love and, you know…getting some.”
“I swear to God that if you don’t stop with the sex references, I am hanging up right now,” Isabella growled.
“Now who needs to calm down? Fine. No more sex talk.”
Isabella momentarily ignored Marie and smiled at her BlackBerry when she saw a message beginning with the words hi there, beautiful.
“Erin just replied and sent his number. She’s at the gym and talking to him right now. She says he loved the picture of you but has been too shy to send you a message. He thinks you’re out of his league.”
“Aw, poor puppy. Give me his number right now!”
“I’m doing it. Let me finish copying and pasting it into a text for you before you badger me to death.”
“Paste faster,” Marie whined again.
“There. I sent it. Now, text Romeo and leave me alone, you nuisance.”
“Will do. Give my love to Alberto and tell him that his auntie will be over to kiss him soon.”
“I’ll pass the message on. Good luck with Chris. Be careful. Don’t…you know…let him treat you badly in any way. I’d hate to have to kill him.”
Coffee and Conclusions Page 19