“Josephine, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Kristin tried to get Josephine’s attention. Her stare was glued to Caitlin, and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Is—is that C—Caitlin James?” she stuttered.
“Yes, it is,” Kristin answered. “She’s an old friend of Sheryl’s. Do you know her?”
“I wish,” Josephine sighed. “I’ve read everything she’s ever written, I think. She’s the reason I went into Gender Studies.”
“Come on over then, I’ll introduce you. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to meet you.”
“I’ll just clean up the machine first,” Josephine replied, looking quite flustered. “I’ll be over in a bit.”
Kristin carried the drinks over to the table and then flipped the sign on the door to Closed so they had the place to themselves. She glanced over at her group of friends and a warm, fuzzy feeling shot through her at the sight of them in her coffee shop. Because, sure, coffee had a ridiculous profit margin, but this place had never been all about the money. It had always, much more, been about the possibilities it offered. A new beginning for her and Sheryl. A sense of community in their new neighborhood. Times like these with friends.
No matter the time they had wasted, this was where they had ended up. This was how the ebb and flow of life went and The Pink Bean was where they had washed ashore.
“What a day.” Sheryl sank onto the couch and dragged Kristin with her.
“I’m so proud of you.” Kristin maneuvered herself on top of Sheryl’s lap, straddling her.
Sheryl looked into Kristin’s serene face. Even though she was three years younger than her, she felt twenty years older—at least. Kristin looked so unblemished, her skin so smooth, her eyes so bright.
“And I’m damn lucky to have you,” she said, staring up at Kristin.
“If we’re going to get all mushy.” Kristin leaned in and kissed her softly on the nose, then hard on the lips, stating her intentions.
Sheryl pulled her close. The day had left her exhausted, and the two double espressos she’d had downstairs earlier hadn’t helped. Some states of pure emotional fatigue are so deep, even caffeine can’t help.
Kristin was already pushing her sideways down onto the couch, not wasting any time.
Just to catch her breath, Sheryl said, “Was there something going on with Josephine? She barely said hello and good-bye before running off home.”
Undaunted, Kristin slipped a knee between Sheryl’s legs. “She was a bit starstruck by Caitlin, I think. But I would rather not talk about Josephine right now. My lips have better things to do.”
Sheryl had no recourse for that. While Kristin trailed kisses down her neck, she let their own history flash through her mind. That very first phone call of which, if Sheryl was honest, she didn’t remember much. It was too long ago. She would never forget Kristin daintily jumping out of the cabin of the delivery van, however, in her tight skirt suit and high heels. If she had known then that the woman walking toward her, hand outstretched, would be kissing her like this right now, after all they had been through, she would have taken a second to savor the moment. But that was the thing with life. You never knew who would come and go. Who you would fall in love with and stay with forever—or not.
Here they were, nearly twenty years later—they would need to have a big party next year to celebrate their two decades together—with an entire new history they’d created together between them. From looking at a person the very first time and not knowing a thing about them, to becoming the equivalent of spouses. Perhaps the Australian government would stop being utterly ridiculous by the time they celebrated their twenty years together, and they could actually, legally, get married soon.
Sheryl didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. All she knew in that moment, as Kristin’s lips reached the hollow of her neck, was that love had seen them through the worst of it. And what could possibly ever stop them after all of that? Sheryl sank deeper onto the couch cushions, Kristin pressing her down with her body weight and her kisses. Sheryl might have lost a lot of love when she was twelve, but Kristin had given her more than she could ever have hoped for since she was twenty-eight. Despite having to join AA, Sheryl knew her dark years had been over a long time ago. And even more lightness had shone upon her on that day she met Kristin.
With one practiced move, she pushed Kristin up a little—she was so slight, it was easy—and slipped out from under her. She toppled Kristin onto her back and stared into her dark eyes.