Pining & Loving

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  As if reading her mind, the sniffling woman asked, “So, where were you heading to?”

  “Chester.”

  Out of the corner of Aya’s eye, she could see her passenger smile a little.

  “Yeah, I know that’s where you’re going now. I meant where were you driving to before you picked me up?”

  “Chester.”

  “You were actually going there as well? That’s… quite the coincidence.”

  Aya rolled her eyes at herself, glad it couldn’t be seen through her sunglasses. Great. Now she thinks I’m some kind of crazy person who’s making stuff up or stalking her or something. Well, that normal behaviour lasted shorter than usual.

  “Well, I was going to Chester,” Aya said, trying not to sound petulant.

  “I believe you. Just a funny coincidence,” her passenger replied before blowing her nose again.

  They were silent for a while. All that could be heard was the jeep going over a few potholes on its way out of Stoke-on-Trent.

  Suddenly, the blonde with the blue streaks in her hair said, “I’ve seen you before.”

  Aya flinched. “I’m not stalking you or anything, but yeah, you do seem familiar.”

  “Let’s see. Where can we have met? I don’t go out much these days, so it shouldn’t be too hard to pinpoint. You wouldn’t happen to have therapy with Edward Smith, do you?”

  “Nope, I don’t go to therapy. Do you ever work out at Muscles & Mitts?”

  The other woman snorted out a laugh. “Hardly. My only exercise is daily walks down by Caldon Canal and the occasional attempt at yoga in front of the telly. Hm, where else? Well, there’s the obvious place, I’m a barista at Coffee4You, the café by Stoke library.”

  Aya took one hand off the steering wheel long enough to snap her fingers. “That’s it! I’ve been there twice, and I think you served me both times. Yesterday, I picked up the napkins you dropped when you handed them to…” She hesitated, again feeling like she was coming off stalkerish. “A customer.”

  It still bothered her that Susannah hadn’t looked at her that day. She’d just taken the damned napkins and left.

  “Aha,” her passenger exclaimed. “You’re the woman in the saffron hoodie. I couldn’t place you because you were in such different surroundings and I’m in a complete state today. So, you were there when Mocha said she was moving to Chester. Was that what gave you the inspiration for a day trip to Ye Olde Roman Township?”

  “Mocha?” Aya queried.

  “Oh, that’s what I call that customer. You know, the striking and ever-so-poised blonde in the mocha-coloured coat.”

  “You nickname people after what clothes they wear?”

  The barista squirmed in an insulted manner. “Not always. Although I’ll admit to having thought of you as the woman in the saffron hoodie. I love that hoodie, by the way. Such a great colour, and it fits you really nicely. I like that it doesn’t have any print on it. So many hoodies have text or images on them now. Why aren’t you wearing it today?”

  Aya struggled to keep up. This woman spoke so fast and so damn much. “Hang on, saffron? That hoodie is like a light orange.”

  “More like an orangey yellow. Saffron, to be exact.”

  “If you say so,” Aya said sceptically. “It’s in the wash. It’s an unusually warm morning for September. Why would I wear a thick, hooded jumper anyway?” She cast a glance over at her passenger. “And why are you wearing a leather jacket?”

  The taller woman ran her hand through her hair, smoothing the blue streaks down with a chuckle. “You know, that’s a good point. Overheating is the last thing I need today.” She took her jacket off and mumbled, “Thanks.”

  Despite her expression of gratitude and the fact that she’d laughed, she still seemed upset somehow. Not just from her crying fit, but there was still a tense air about her.

  Aya steeled herself, came right out and asked, “Did I say or do something to upset you? I do that. Which is why I avoid talking to people. Actually, it’s why I avoid even being around people if possible. So, you know, if I did do something rubbish, sorry.”

  The other woman watched her, with what from Aya’s limited view since she didn’t want to take her eyes off the road, looked like fascination. “You know, I think that was the longest I’ve heard you speak.”

  Aya only scoffed in reply.

  Her passenger added in kind tones, “For what it’s worth, as the crying mess who needed rescuing back there, I think I’m the one who should be apologising. Anyway, thanks for telling me. Now I’ll try to not take it personally if you say something that sounds off or if you’re short with me.”

  “Short with you? Was that meant to be a joke about the fact that you’re taller than me?” Aya remembered to add a smile to show that she was teasing.

  The other woman chuckled again. She had a nice laugh; in fact, she had a nice voice, a little raspy but soft. “No, it wasn’t, but I’ll try to squeeze in plenty of height jokes from now on, Tiny Tim.”

  Aya sucked her teeth. “Man, I hope that’s not the nickname you give me. I’d actually prefer you to call me something related to my clothes.”

  “How about we try to use real names instead? I’m Gwen.”

  “Aya Lawson.”

  “Aya? That’s such a cool name! Unusual.”

  “It’s Japanese. My mother wanted me to have a connection to where she’s from.” She paused. “The fact that my dad then pushed for my middle name be Yorkshire to give a connection to where he’s from tells you all you need to know about him.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Yorkshire is your middle name?”

  Aya shook her head as she turned onto the M6. “No, it’s Jane. Mum never listens to Dad.”

  Gwen laughed once more. “You’re funny. With the risk of sounding rude, I never would’ve guessed.”

  “And I never would’ve guessed you had depression. You seem so upbeat and ordinary, I mean stable, at the café.”

  Aya bit her tongue. Ordinary? Stable? What a shitty thing to say to someone who was ill! She really shouldn’t be allowed around people.

  Gwen leaned back in her seat. “You’d be surprised at how many people with mental illnesses don’t outwardly show symptoms on an average day. Most of us mask it pretty well, until we have a bad day or some sort of episode. Like I did this morning.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  Aya kept her eyes on the road, trying to figure out something else to say or do.

  Gwen was looking out her window and quietly said, “The worst of it seems to have passed, thank god. The last thing I want now is a week in bed staring at a crack in the ceiling, wondering if there’s a point in even eating or going to the bathroom.”

  Aya had heard every word but was so unsure of what to answer that she blurted out, “Sorry, what was that?”

  Gwen shook her head with a sad smile. “Never mind. You focus on driving. That bloke in the Volvo doesn’t want to pick a lane, does he? Honestly, there’s something about a motorway that makes people drive terribly. The M6 is no exception. Oh, there he goes again.”

  Grateful to be on more solid ground, Aya nodded. “I know. Arse-brained old git.”

  Gwen jerked her head back. “Did you just say arse-brained?”

  “Yeah,” Aya mumbled with a shrug.

  “That’s brilliant!” Gwen chuckled. “I’ve never heard that. Did you just come up with it?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure I heard it down at my gym. The other boxers tend to come up with creative names to call each other. Just trash talk and banter, you know.”

  “You box?”

  “Yep. Used to do it professionally, but I had to quit.”

  “Why? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  Aya had a moment of phantom pain, an overwhelming throbbing starting at the point where she was hit and filling every part of her skull. Darkness briefly shrouded her eyes, like a hood being pulled over her head. The memory ebbed away, and she cleared her throat, opening her eyes wide to ta
ke in the road ahead of her. Nothing had happened. She was okay.

  “I took a bad blow to the head in my last match,” Aya muttered. “Knocked me out cold.”

  “Oh. I thought that happened to boxers quite a lot.”

  “It does. But this time it was bad enough to leave lingering effects and for the doctors to wonder if I’d completely recover. They recommended that I stop boxing.” She swallowed and then cleared her throat again. “I decided to listen. Some people said I chickened out. I think of it as that I now had an injury causing a weakness, meaning that the next time there was a TKO in a match I might not wake up again.”

  “Whoa.”

  Aya white-knuckled the steering wheel. “Yeah.”

  “Stopping sounds like a sensible choice to me.”

  “Sure, but boxing was my life. Now that I can’t do it anymore, I’m…” she trailed off, not sure what she was.

  “A bit lost?” Gwen suggested.

  Aya mulled that over for a moment. “Mm. A bit lost.”

  “So you thought you’d be less lost if you found yourself in Chester?” Gwen said in a sympathetic tone.

  “Maybe. I suppose I… needed to get out of the house for the day. I live with my parents. They keep asking if I’ve found a job. Or a girlfriend.”

  Her chest tightened. Why had she said that? Why was she revealing so much?

  “Aha!” Gwen exclaimed again. “My gaydar is working, then. You, what’s the saying in the US, bat for my team?”

  Aya chuckled. “I would’ve thought that was obvious. And for what it’s worth, that saying might be American, but since we use bats for cricket, I think we can use it, too.”

  “Do you think Mocha does?” Gwen asked.

  “What, play cricket?”

  “No, bat for our team!”

  Aya allowed her gaze to momentarily shift from the road to the horizon. She wasn’t sure of how much she wanted to say, how much she wanted to reveal about her feelings and thoughts.

  They both had a thing for the woman Gwen apparently knew as Mocha and she knew as Susannah. It had been a coincidence that Aya was in the same rickety, old café as her gym crush that first morning in Coffee4U. She was going to a job search workshop at the library when it opened and was killing time checking for jobs on her laptop and having a coffee at the closest café. She’d seen Susannah talk to Gwen and realised that this must be a place Susannah came to every day. With that in mind, she’d gone in again yesterday to see her crush and try to talk to her once more. Maybe even make some bloody sense this time.

  Had she really thought Susannah was into women? Maybe. Aya hadn’t really inspected her thoughts and feelings. She just wanted to be able to talk to a hot woman. Now that she did consider it, yes, she had assumed the striking blonde was flirting, but probably just for fun like straight women sometimes did. In the past she’d had a few brief, casual affairs with older, impressive women. Even if Susannah was sapphic—lesbian or bi or whatever—she was out of Aya’s league, at least for something more serious than shagging.

  Now, though, with Gwen also being drawn to Susannah and her gaydar clearly working well, it might be time to rethink things. Was Susannah only a steamy fantasy? And maybe some sort of symbol of the social interaction Aya was rubbish at? Or could she be more? Could there actually be a relationship there?

  Aya focused back on the road. This introspection stuff was giving her headache.

  “Hello?” Gwen prompted. “Did you hear me?”

  “I heard you. The answer is that I don’t know if she’s gay.”

  “But I was right in that you’re going to Chester to see her?”

  “I suppose so,” Aya said nonchalantly.

  “Right. There isn’t really any other option, considering how you gawked at her when you retrieved the napkins for her yesterday.” Gwen gave a humming little laugh. “You clearly have as big a crush on her as I do.”

  “I don’t have a crush,” Aya protested. “She’s just hot, and I’ve been alone for far too long. Also… ah! I don’t know how to describe it.”

  A beat of silence.

  “Do you want to try?” Gwen asked softly. “I wouldn’t mock you if you said something weird.”

  Aya groaned, slapped the steering wheel, and then blurted out, “I guess I feel like if I could be brave enough to talk to her again, and not make an arse of myself this time, it would mean that I’m not as hopeless as I think.”

  “Oh. Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re hopeless at talking to women,” Gwen said. “You’re talking to me right now and making complete sense.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not attracted to you.”

  “Wow! Ouch.”

  “I didn’t mean that you’re not attractive. You’ve got that cool hair, an awesome voice and,” she looked over at Gwen, “you’re pretty.”

  Gwen held up a hand. “But I’m not mind-blowingly gorgeous like Mocha. I totally get that. Neither are you by the way,” she added in a teasing tone of voice.

  “Of course not,” Aya snapped. “I’m not sure if anyone is. She’s in a league of her own.”

  “Yes,” Gwen whispered reverently.

  Aya pictured Susannah in her mind. “Her body. Her posture. How the bloody hell does she move like that?”

  “I don’t know,” Gwen said, just as awestruck. “I want to know how she manages to look at people like that. Like they’re the most interesting thing in the world? It’s spellbinding, makes you feel on top of the world.”

  “No idea. It’s like she breathes out charm like the rest of us do oxygen.”

  “We inhale oxygen,” Gwen corrected.

  “Yeah, but some of what we exhale contains oxygen, too.”

  “Sure. But most of it is carbon dioxide.”

  “Whatever,” Aya snapped. “Let’s get back to what we were talking about.”

  Gwen sat back and clasped her hands in her lap. “So. Summing things up here. We’re both attracted to this older, daunting woman that we don’t know. Neither of us is sure that she is into women. Neither of us seem to think we have a chance with her.”

  Not for more than a quick shag if she’s lonely, anyway, Aya thought to herself. Out loud she said, “Right so far.”

  “And yet we’re both taking the day to travel to Chester in the vain hope of seeing her again. Isn’t that funny?”

  “Funny as in ‘funny haha’ or as in ‘funny strange’?”

  “Both?”

  Aya thumped her head back against her headrest. “Yeah, both. Bugger me. What are we doing?”

  “Sightseeing in a city that’s meant to be beautiful and unique?” Gwen said, sounding like she didn’t believe it herself.

  “That’s the nice spin on it.” Aya snorted. “Some would say we’re stalking a woman we’ve been lusting after from a distance.”

  “I prefer pining from afar. Besides, we’re not going to stalk her. Or at least, I’m not. I’m going to walk around Chester and be a tourist. If I see Mocha, I’m going to talk to her and see if I can get to know her a bit better. Just so I can keep her in my life, as a friend or whatever she’s comfortable with.”

  “Okay. Same. Although my focus is on getting a damn conversation right with her.”

  Gwen hummed pensively. “So you’re not really interested being around her?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I just mean that this possible chat with her is more important to me than flirting or making friends. I’m trying to prove to myself that I can do this. That I can get something right.”

  “Right, I get it now,” Gwen said. She looked out the window for a moment. “I guess I’m just checking up on my competition.”

  “Oh, no, you bloody don’t.”

  Gwen startled. “What?”

  “You are not making this into a weird love triangle or some sort of old-fashioned ‘battle for a lady’s heart’ crap.” Gwen just gasped, so Aya continued. “We’re better than the cliché of women fighting each other over the same love interest.”

&
nbsp; Gwen crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine. How would you describe what we’re doing?”

  “I think of it more as, I don’t know, a quest to achieve something.”

  “A quest? What? Are we playing dungeons and dragons?” Gwen joked.

  Aya ground her teeth. “No, hear me out.” She grunted. “I find it hard to talk about things so just let me finish.”

  “Okay,” Gwen said softly. “Sure. I’m sorry.”

  Aya overtook a car, more to give herself time to think than because she needed to. “What I was trying to say was that for me this is more important than dating. Or friendship. Everything in my life is crap right now so I need something to go right. I need a win. Chatting successfully to this woman, even if it doesn’t lead to anything, could be that win.”

  Gwen was quiet for a long time, and Aya found herself speeding more and more. Despite her every impulse, she slowed; the M6 was the last place you should drive with your emotions in charge.

  “Thanks for sharing,” Gwen finally said. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy. Now that we’re being honest and thinking about what this crush is actually about, I guess I should share, too.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This might sound strange. For me, it’s about having something to inspire me and brighten my day. Something that can be a cure for the long bouts of feeling bored, or worse, feeling nothing, that I get.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that seeing Mocha every morning and wondering if she’s going to be flirty or if she’s going to reveal something about herself or if I’m going to make her laugh or…” Aya saw her look up at the car roof, as if it held her missing words, before continuing.

  “What I’m getting at is that it gives me an adrenaline rush or an injection of joy or, some sort of high maybe. It changes the day from predictable to exciting. It started back when my fiancée left me and I was really down. Seeing Mocha made me feel alive again.” Gwen blew out a breath. “I guess I got scared that I’d miss that when she moved. Without that little thrill, I’d be left with my humdrum life and the despondency that comes from depression always looming over me.”