Coffee and Conclusions Page 11

  “But there are things you would want to wish away? How she left you, perhaps?” Isabella asked.

  “Yeah.” Erin sighed. “That. And what it did to me.”

  “Do you mean the fact that it made you reluctant to get into a relationship again?”

  “Mm, that and you know…” Erin paused, unsure if she was ready to talk about this. Especially on their first, in-person date.

  Isabella leaned forward and took her hand away from Alberto’s torso to rest it on top of Erin’s hand. Erin looked up and saw warmth and understanding in Isabella’s eyes. She pushed herself to keep talking.

  “…and that it messed with my sleep,” Erin finally admitted.

  Isabella’s frown quickly turned to understanding. “Oh. That’s when your insomnia started up again?”

  Keep it together. Erin swallowed thickly. She focused on her hands, one warm because it was holding the coffee mug, the other warm because it was safely tucked under Isabella’s. Erin took a sip of her coffee to give herself time to calm down. “Yeah.”

  Pensively, Isabella looked down at the table. They were both quiet for a while. Isabella didn’t move her hand; it lay on top of Erin’s, warm and somehow steadying.

  “I wonder if your insomnia might not simply be about abandonment. I’m not a psychiatrist, but if it started when you were a child in foster care, unable to make roots, as you say, and came back when Katie left you… Could it be that you hate sleeping because you worry that when you wake up…” Isabella seemed to be looking for the right words. “…you’ll be alone and feel unwanted?”

  Tears crowded in Erin’s eyes, and her vision went blurry.

  Isabella gasped. “Oh, Erin, I’m sorry. Look at me just going on about this, even though we said we’d take that slowly and talk about it gradually. I just…came up with what I thought could be the solution and had to blurt it out. I’m so terribly sorry.”

  Clearing her throat, Erin answered, “No, don’t apologize. Yeah, it’s probably about abandonment. That and feeling that I’m not good enough. That’s why people leave. Sometimes when I sleep, I wake up with this really strong dislike for myself. Like every thought and feeling I have is wrong and annoying.”

  Isabella looked at her searchingly. “You know that other people don’t think that about you, right?”

  Erin gave a reluctant nod. “Sometimes, yeah. At the same time, I know I’m not great at making friends or keeping them. Sometimes, I think the few friends I have just stick around because they pity me.” The last words almost stuck in her throat, and broke her voice when they came out. She blinked rapidly, trying not to let the tears fall. She could only hope that her mascara wasn’t smudging. “I’m sorry, this self-pity and whining can’t be very appealing. We shouldn’t be going into this emotional shit right now,” she croaked.

  “Erin, I just came out of a relationship with a man who wouldn’t communicate with me. The fact that we can talk like this and that you just…let me look right into your soul is a miracle to me.”

  Erin sniffed and cleared her throat again, trying to get a hold of herself. “You’re not calling me Miss Black anymore.”

  “No, it didn’t seem appropriate right now. That moniker is more a jokey thing, not as intimate as your first name.”

  “I think I’d like to go back to jokey and take a break from intimate right now. I really don’t want to start crying in public,” Erin mumbled.

  Isabella nodded. “Of course. I have to say, though, you’re unfairly cute when upset, Miss Black. May I give you a hug?”

  Erin didn’t answer. She just jumped up from her seat and held her arms out. Isabella laughed and stood up to embrace her.

  The hug was a lot less tense than their first one but lasted even longer. This time, Erin took her time and savored the complex scent of Isabella—spicy and sensual. Erin took deep, delicious breaths, filling her nose and lungs with the mix of Isabella’s natural fragrance and whatever designer perfume she was wearing. Isabella’s arms circled her, and she ended their hug by moving her hands forward to grip Erin’s waist. Isabella’s long fingers clasped around her midsection and squeezed gently.

  “You feel so good,” Isabella whispered before pulling away. When they were facing each other, Isabella looked deep into her eyes and said, “Well, you certainly broke the ice today.”

  Erin felt herself smile, despite the turmoil of emotions. “Yeah, I kinda have a knack for that. I just don’t do normal small talk.”

  “Good. Neither do I. Although, I’m…not used to this instant connection we have, and it scares me. As I said before, I don’t know how to act with you, which is a good thing but also very unnerving. I suppose I need you to show me the way here.” Isabella swallowed thickly and fidgeted with her hair.

  Whoa. I never knew someone so composed could look so nervous.

  “Well, the first thing we should do is stop standing here staring lovingly and holding on to each other because the barista and that guy with the espresso are staring.”

  Isabella snorted at that. They sat down, and the spell was broken. They were back to their normal conversation, nervous but flowing easily. Alberto slept soundly next to Isabella, while they talked about any trivial thing from places they’d been served good coffee to dates that had gone wrong.

  Erin took every opportunity to reach over and touch Isabella’s arm or shoulder, and Isabella kept her hand on Erin’s as long as she could. Finally, Alberto woke up and began to squirm and whine. Erin looked at him, terrified because he seemed so upset. He began to cry, and Erin found herself feeling guilty that she’d kept his mother away from him. It wasn’t logical, but she felt it just the same. He was so small and helpless, and her heart ached as he cried on Isabella’s lap, while his mother made those little rubbing circles on his belly.

  After a while, Isabella looked up with a distraught look on her face. “I’m sorry, Erin. He isn’t calming down. I think I should take him home and see if I can feed him or maybe even give him his medicine.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Erin looked at her FitWatch. “Actually, it’s later than I thought. It’s almost five. My train leaves in about forty minutes. I’ll walk you guys home and then try to find a cab to the station.”

  “It’s that late? Wow, we really got to talking. All right, let’s go.” Isabella almost shouted over Alberto’s increased wails.

  Isabella cradled her crying son close to her chest as she stood. Erin grabbed the car seat for her and followed her out.

  Alberto was still whimpering and sobbing occasionally, but getting out in the air seemed to calm him a little. Erin looked at the car seat she was carrying. Curious, she asked, “Why do you have a car seat if you don’t have a car anymore?”

  “Oh, it’s one of the easiest ways to carry Alberto if I don’t want to put him in the baby carrier—the harness that you strap onto your chest—or bring a bulky stroller. And he sleeps very well in it. Usually. I’m sorry he woke up. It’s hard to date with a baby. Perhaps I should have had Daddy look after him. I just wasn’t sure either of them was ready for that.”

  “Hey, please don’t worry about it. We should be happy he was calm and quiet for that long. Plus, he stopped me from missing my train.”

  “That’s true.” Isabella stopped abruptly. “Well, this is where we live.”

  She opened the door to the tall, ornate building and stepped into what looked like a hallway leading to an elevator with a door opposite it. Erin knew that Isabella lived on the first floor, and she couldn’t help but wonder if that was her door.

  Smiling despite the crying Alberto, Isabella reached out a hand for the car seat. Erin handed it over, then backed away and stood there on the doorstep, staring at Isabella and trying to figure out how to say good-bye.

  Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about it. Isabella leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. The warm lips lingered on Erin’s cheek long e
nough for her to wonder if there would be lipstick marks and to realize that she didn’t care.

  “Call me when you get home,” Isabella said softly. “And thank you for traveling all this way to spend time with me. It was a wonderful date.”

  “No, thank you for coming out with the lil’ man. It was great. And of course I’ll call. I might even text you from the train.”

  Alberto gave out an ear-piercing wail, and Isabella looked down at him anxiously. Erin waved them off, and Isabella closed the door with an apologetic smile.

  Walking back to a busier part of the street to look for a taxi, Erin was happy that she’d bought a return ticket for just three hours after the date started. She hadn’t been sure about that at the time, but between the adrenaline, all the excited talking, and the emotionally draining chat about her insomnia, she was utterly exhausted. And it seemed like Alberto felt the date was at an end too.

  Erin bit her lip. How did one get on the good side of a baby?

  Chapter 13

  Talking to Isabella

  It was after breakfast, and Isabella had just gotten herself and Alberto washed and dressed. He was in her arms, cooing happily and laughing, a skill he’d learned in the past week.

  She started swaying with him in her arms, and he grabbed onto little fistfuls of her blouse. She hummed a little and turned the swaying into dancing. She had a new home, a son who was clearly the best baby that ever existed, and yesterday she’d had an incredible date. With Erin.

  The whole afternoon had been spent face-to-face with the most beautiful woman she’d ever met, and the whole evening Skyping with the same amazing woman, long into the night.

  Isabella hadn’t gotten to bed until 1:30 a.m, but she and Alberto had all the time in the world to sleep in this morning. She was still wary of how things were going with Erin, still half tempted to put the brakes on and take it slow. The other half of her wanted to ask Erin out for another date. Tomorrow. She wanted—needed—to see Erin again so much it felt like a craving.

  “What do you think, Alberto? When would be appropriate to ask her to come see us again? She has to work in the week and can’t just leave New York. That means we won’t see her for a whole week.” She thought a moment. “Unless we visit her. Do you think you could behave for the trip up there?”

  Alberto gurgled and reached out his pudgy little hand to grip at her hair. With well-honed reflexes, she moved her head so he couldn’t grab hold properly. It was nice that he was so fond of her hair, but not when he tugged it surprisingly hard.

  She sighed. “No, you probably couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair on you either. You’ve had enough upheaval with the move, cariño. We’ll ask her to come over next weekend. That’s probably good. Your mother shouldn’t appear too eager, should she?”

  He looked at her moving lips and suddenly, without apparent reason, laughed.

  Isabella laughed too and tickled his side. “Stop laughing at me. I can’t help wanting to see her again.”

  She resumed swaying and slowly dancing with him, while thinking about Erin. Last night had been different than their other Skype sessions. There was a relief in having met up and liking each other in the flesh, so to speak, but a new urgency to meet again. If she’d been desperate to touch Erin before, it was so much worse now.

  Smiling, she thought back to the things Erin had said on Skype. She’d seemed almost starstruck and had spent a lot of the call blushing or making silly jokes and then apologizing for them. Isabella’s heart melted even more, defying her when she chastised Erin for being an idiot after a particularly bad joke. She was desperate to kiss Erin’s pretty pink lips to shut her up.

  Kissing Erin. She’d been thinking about that a lot. In their rushed good-bye yesterday, she’d instinctively kissed Erin on the cheek, but as soon as she closed the door, she’d wondered if she should’ve been bold and gone for her lips. She grinned blissfully to herself. Next time. Definitely next time.

  Recognition dawned on her. It was a Sunday, and Erin would be home. She picked up her phone to text Erin and saw a message from someone else. Richard. He wanted to know if she and Alberto were free to Skype; he wanted to see his son. Eager to help their relationship, Isabella texted back that they’d be online soon.

  Five minutes later, Isabella was waving Alberto’s little hand at the screen. Richard and Joshua, Alberto’s half brother, waved excitedly while shouting, “Good morning,” before the young boy ran off and left Alberto and the grownups to chat.

  After telling Richard about the growth developments that Alberto had gone through—he was coming up to five months and learning things at an alarming rate—she said, “It’s hard to believe, but with pillows propping him up, he can actually sit by himself.”

  Richard beamed. “Oh, wow. And if you remove the pillows?”

  Isabella gave a quick laugh. “Then down comes baby. He’s doing well for his age. We can’t expect more than that.”

  Richard chuckled along with her. “No, of course not.”

  Alberto coughed, and they both looked at him until the coughing fit passed.

  “So, how has he been coping with the move?”

  “Fine, it seems. Other than not being a huge fan of the flight up here, he has been a happy little boy. As long as he gets food, sleep, and love, he’s satisfied.”

  “The joy of babies, huh?”

  Isabella realized that Richard wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at his son’s face as if he was trying to memorize Alberto’s features.

  She was happy to see his love for Alberto, though a small and self-absorbed part of her was curious; had Richard even missed her? Probably not. Still, she wanted him to be happy, and with Shay and Joshua, he clearly was. She couldn’t ask for more than that.

  “Yes, that’s the joy of babies,” Isabella repeated.

  “How is the new place coming along?” Richard met her eyes before looking back to Alberto.

  “Pretty well, I’d say. Between the pieces of furniture that I had shipped here and what I’ve ordered to be delivered, we should soon have a fully furnished home. Not a hard task with such a small space.”

  “That’s great. Are you doing okay? Getting everything in place? I know you hurt your back sleeping in that armchair all those months. Don’t overdo the heavy lifting.”

  Isabella smiled warmly at his concern. “I won’t.”

  “Good. You have to be careful and stay safe. Speaking of which—is it a safe area you’re in?”

  “Yes. It’s fine.” She was losing patience with his Mother Hen routine.

  “You sure? I mean, Philadelphia is a lot rougher than Naples. And neither you nor Alberto have taken any self-defense classes.”

  She gave him a scathing look. “Richard, remember when those two thugs tried to mug me when we were visiting your family in Miami?”

  He sighed in defeat. “Yeah.”

  “Remember what I did to those little maggots?” Her eyebrow quirked.

  “You stabbed one of them in the foot with your stiletto heel and threw hot coffee in the eyes of the other one. All while dialing 911,” he intoned dutifully. “Look, Isabella, I’m not doubting you can look after yourself. I’m just asking you to be careful out there.”

  She relented. “Of course I will. I won’t take any risks. I’m neither stupid nor reckless.”

  “I know. Anyway, how are you and…uh…what’s her name again?”

  “Erin.” Isabella smiled at the mere mention of her name. She pulled herself together and hid her smile, hoping that Richard hadn’t seen her be so sentimental. “We’re doing well. We’re…somewhere in the strange land between dating and not dating. I’m trying not to rush into a relationship. We both know how that worked out for you and me.”

  With a furrowed brow, Richard hummed before saying, “Well, yeah, but our circumstances were different. I don’t think you should use us a
s a yardstick. If things feel right between you and Erin, then go for it. Life’s too short not to take chances.”

  Isabella scowled and looked away while brushing invisible lint off her skirt. “Yes, well, I think I know best when it comes to my love life. Let’s change the topic.”

  Richard seemed about to argue, before he glanced up and saw the look on Isabella’s face and clearly thought better of it. They both knew Isabella wasn’t much for talking about her feelings. And she certainly didn’t enjoy defending her stance or her actions.

  Scratching his head, Richard seemed to search for something to say. “So…um…how is the writing going?”

  Isabella’s shoulders relaxed. “At the moment, I have the bare bones of all the chapters, but I’m far from finished. There’s a lot of work left and quite a bit of research I have to do before I can complete it.”

  “Well, you’ve never been afraid of hard work.”

  She gave him a scathing look, which he missed as he was looking at Alberto.

  “No. It’s just that conditions right now aren’t particularly conducive to writing. I’ve just moved, and I have to make the house habitable. I’ve spent time with my parents and struggled with matters of the heart. Oh, and I left a long-term relationship, remember? One could say that there’s been quite a lot going on.”

  He grinned. “Aha. There’s the Isabella snark I remember so well.”

  This time, he actually looked up at her and acknowledged her existence with a smile. The teasing felt good and surprisingly natural.

  They finished up discussing the details of the house sale before they signed off. She was relieved the call had gone well. Clearly, they could make these Skype calls a frequent habit without it being a chore.

  She didn’t know how much Alberto would get out of them now, but as he grew, the calls would probably mean a lot to him.