“Visited a friend in Florida,” Alix said, clipping a strand. “Went for a few days.”
“You’d willingly go to Florida? In this political climate?” the woman asked with a grimace.
Alix laughed. “It was Miami, so not like the worst parts of Florida. And it was fun.” Alix smiled at the mirror. “There was a haunted doll involved.”
Her client laughed, assuming it was a joke. Alix didn’t clarify.
Later, she put on the playlist she and Grace had made in Sylvia’s kitchen. The smell of bleach and hairspray mixed with Latin beats, and Lola yelled over the dryers, “Is this your Miami sex playlist?”
Alix blushed and stuttered, but she didn’t change it.
At the flea market that Saturday, she texted Grace a photo of a ceramic frog holding a margarita and wearing sunglasses.
Grace replied with a picture of a bubbling pot of some kind of chicken stew. Alix could nearly smell the spices through the phone.
Grace
Fricase de pollo. Connie’s specialty.
Alix
Save me a bowl.
Grace
Cuban food will make a carnivore out of you yet.
Alix
A secret indulgence. My morals don’t have to know.
Grace
Good luck with that.
Their rhythm built again, little notes strung between miles. Late nights and constant texts:
Still awake?
At the office.
You’d hate LA traffic today.
A photo from Alix’s dusk longboard ride along the empty street. Grace sent a courthouse elevator selfie captioned: “Do I look intimidating?”
Alix saved the photo immediately but didn’t type out exactly what thoughts went through her mind. No overt flirting. Just that steady, quiet connection between them.
A week later, Alix was home lounging in pajamas, Phyllis passed out beside her on the couch beside a woefully empty crossword. When her phone buzzed, she answered without thinking.
Grace’s face filled the screen, haloed by warm kitchen light. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.”
From somewhere off-screen, a voice called, “Is that her? The vegan?”
“Mom.” Grace groaned. “She has a name, remember? Alix.”
Connie leaned into the frame, eyes bright. “Grace said you want to learn how to make Cuban black beans. Naturally vegan.” Her smile was somewhere between shy and shameless. “And not because of avocado oil.”
