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“Just a little changing of the light and shadows and fixing some of the tint. But other than that, it’s just you.” I wasn’t so sure about that. But I liked the picture. I hoped that I could get a copy of it when she left.
“Would you like to see the others?” she asked and showed me some of the other raw images she had yet to work on. There was Daisy and Molly, gazing lovingly at each other, Daisy’s face covered in flour. A picture of Jen making sandwiches. Sal in the office, doing the books. A few of our customers, including Todd, the trans man who practically lived here when he wasn’t at work, and who we’d had a fundraiser for his top surgery. Ellie, who was genderqueer and disabled and had the best laugh of anyone I’d ever met. They were all there and they were all beautiful. My patchwork family.
“You really love them,” Lacey said.
“Yeah. I do.” I had tears on my face again.
“Why do you keep making me cry?” I asked, using a napkin to blot my cheeks.
“It’s unintentional, I assure you,” Lacey said. I balled up the napkin and she reached for my face.
I flinched. “What?”
She froze. “You have an eyelash on your cheek.” Oh, how cliché. I leaned forward and let her gather the eyelash with her elegant fingers.
“Make a wish,” she said, holding it up. I couldn’t see it because I was too busy staring into her eyes. Today they looked like black tea with too much honey. Perfect.
“Okay,” I said, blowing at the supposed eyelash. I didn’t make a wish. I was too distracted to think of one.
“I really want to kiss you right now. I wonder if that’s what you wished for,” Lacey said. She’d come closer and our faces were only inches apart. I could kiss her so easily. But I was at work. Not that I thought that Jen or Sal would demote me for kissing in the café (seeing as how Daisy and Molly sucked face, and did lots of things when Daisy was in the bakery), but still. I was still a little rattled from those strange dreams I had last night and trying to figure out my feelings.
“I probably shouldn’t,” I whispered and she nodded, pulling back.
“You’re right. We probably shouldn’t. Here.” I nodded and she looked back down at her laptop. There was a breath of awkward silence and I wasn’t sure what to say.
“I’ll, um, go get your chai and your BLTA,” I said, getting up. I went back to the kitchen to get her order and brought it out.
Lacey was quiet as I set down the plate and handed her the chai cup. I hated to think it was something I’d done.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “I’m sorry about the kissing. It’s just . . . you’re here and I want to kiss you, but you’re leaving. I know I said I was up for whatever, but I’m not sure if I am. I know that’s a bit like flip-flopping. Ugh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” I put my head in my hands.
A hand brushed my shoulder.
“It’s okay. Really. I didn’t think that this was going to be anything. There’s just . . . there’s no time. For anything substantial and I don’t know if I can do anything with you that isn’t . . . substantial.” That was how I felt, but it was kind of too late to be making this decision. I was already wading into a pool of feelings for her.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said, sighing. Lacey sipped her chai and I let the music of the café distract me for a minute.
“Why does everything have to be so complicated?” she said, laughing a little.
“I don’t know. I think things get more complicated the older you get.” It was true, in my experience.
“I think you’re right.” She sighed and shook her head. “I wish my life wasn’t complicated. I think I’d like to try simple for a while. Instead of blowing around like a tumbleweed. I don’t even know if I could. But it would be interesting to try.” She turned her eyes on me and my stomach twisted with what she might be saying.
“Do you . . . do you think you might want to stick around here? For a little while?” I didn’t have the right to ask her to be here since I wasn’t offering her anything. I couldn’t offer her anything. I still barely knew her. What I did know, I liked. A lot.
“I’m not sure. But I can at least stay for another week? Just . . . take a break. I can’t remember the last time that I just sat around and did nothing. I’ve been working so hard for the past few years and I want to see if I can actually slow down and take a breath. This seems like as good a place as any. And it’s got a bonus. You’re here.” I felt myself blushing.
“Another week?”
“Another week.”
A lot could happen in a week.
Six
I had to go back to work before we really hashed things out, but I could barely contain my glee that she was staying for an extra week. Maybe I could even take a day or two off and we could hang out. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slowed down either. I was always moving, always doing something else so I didn’t have to stop and think. I’d done it in my relationships, too. I’d moved from one person to the next, never slowing down long enough to see if something could work in the long-term.
Maybe we both needed to put on the brakes and breathe. Together.
