Chapter 2

Arriving at the coffee shop before Mika, Lauren texted her to ask what she wanted, then placed the order, a medium americano, with a latte for herself.

Mika arrived just as she found a table. She’d added a touch of color to her lips, a muted red, making them look less narrow. She wore a red silk blouse with a black above the knee skirt and dark hose, under a lightweight jacket.

The coffee shop was cool. Perhaps not as cool as sitting outside the previous day, but a little chilly for being indoors. Lauren was glad for her cardigan.

“Thanks for coming, Mika,” Lauren said. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you, Lauren,” Mika replied. Her eyes barely met Lauren’s, but she seemed attentive. “I wonder why you asked me to meet you. Is there a problem with Mandy, perhaps?”

“Not at all,” Lauren said. “Except that I’m jealous of her, as I said. Maybe more than I realized.”

Mika frowned at her. “What does that mean?”

“Mandy’s a good friend,” Lauren said. “I don’t begrudge her anything. But she’s going to have you as her landlord. She’ll be your neighbor. She’ll have opportunities to talk to you.”

This time Mika’s narrowed eyes met Lauren’s. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’d like to see you,” Lauren said. “I’d like to ask you out. Dinner, maybe. Do you… think you might be interested? Sometime? Maybe?”

Mika blinked, and her expression transformed, becoming the remote look she had worn when she’d spoken about the house. Not cold, not hostile, just… not there.

Maybe Lauren had misjudged. Maybe my gaydar needs a tune-up. Maybe it’s broken beyond repair.

She opened her mouth to apologize, then realized that if she didn’t know what she was apologizing for, she’d probably make the situation even more awkward. She closed her mouth again and waited for at least a hint.

The distance lasted a few seconds longer, then Mika’s eyes seemed to show some confusion. “I…” she said, or tried to say. She cleared her throat and started again. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit shocked. This isn’t at all what I was expecting.”

“Good,” Lauren said, in a weak attempt at humor. “I hate to be predictable.” After a moment, she added, “I hate to be embarrassed, too, and I think I just embarrassed both of us. Maybe we could pretend I didn’t say anything?”

Mika shook her head once, sharply. “No,” she said. She was back in the present. Maybe more so than Lauren had yet seen, since her eyes were on hers, completely alert. “You’ve said nothing embarrassing. I’m a single lesbian, and you’re the same, I think?”

“Yes, I am,” Lauren agreed.

“And you want to go out on a date with me?” Mika asked.

“Yes, I do,” she said.

Mika smiled. Nervously, maybe, but it was genuine. “Well, then,” she said. “Where are you taking me?”

Lauren picked Mika up from her house the following day. There was a barbecue stand with outdoor seating that she’d heard good things about, which neither she nor Mika had visited. Had the weather been unfavorable, she’d have taken barbecue to go and invited the woman to spend the afternoon at her house, watching streaming movies. Which would have been fine, but she was pleased that their first time going out wasn’t a time staying in. They ordered at the counter and took the food to a wooden table.

Sitting outside was comfortable, at least in a sweater. Mika had her jacket zipped up, and the breeze kept flicking her straight hair into her face. Lauren had tucked her hair into a chignon, though even with it tightly constrained, a few copper strands kept dancing in her vision.

Mika seemed friendly, if reserved. There was no awkwardness in their conversation, even though she seemed to be sounding out Lauren, just as Lauren was trying to get a read on her. Lauren felt she was telling Mika more than the reverse, but that was okay. The woman seemed interested in what she said.

She asked Lauren to tell her about the girl who’d walked out on her.

“If you like,” Lauren said, with a sigh. “I guess I should get it out of the way, because it’s the closest I’ve had to a serious entanglement. We were together for over a year. We thought we were okay until we tried living together. She was… well, something of a slob.” She glanced at Mika to see her reaction to that. It was possible that Mika was also a slob, though if she was, it didn’t show in her dress, or in the state of her rental property, or the flower beds… on second thought, no, it totally wasn’t possible. “I may not exactly be a neat freak, but I have my limits. We fought about many things, but that was the one that was always in my face.”

“She was living in your home?” Mika asked.

“It was our house, at least at first,” Lauren replied. “She moved out mid-lease. I was okay with that. It’s a small rental house, still too big for just me, but it isn’t worth the effort of moving. She tried to convince me that we should buy a house together. I said no, and she decided she’d had enough of me treating her like a kid.”

“How old was she?” Mika asked.

“Twenty-five?” Lauren said. “Somewhere around there. She was younger than me, and I was twenty-seven when she left.”

“So that makes you twenty-nine,” Mika concluded.

“I am,” Lauren said. “How old are you?” She winced at the starkness of her question. She seemed to lack a filter with this woman, which was not like her at all. She wouldn’t be successful in her job if she insulted clients.

“I’ll be thirty-two in January,” she said. “Is that close enough for you to be considering a second date?” Mika asked, her eyebrows raised.

Lauren felt a wave of relief wash over her. She’d sprung the idea of a date on Mika, and had still not been certain that she’d agreed freely. For her to bring the topic up must mean she was willing to continue. “It is. I was hoping I hadn’t offended you by asking in the first place.”

Mika shook her head. “I wasn’t offended. You seem… quite direct. Mostly. I can respect that. And this is an unconventional place for a dinner date,” she said, gesturing at the open air setting. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to be conventional and invite you to Natsu restaurant. It’s been too long since I’ve taken someone there.”

“Of course,” Lauren said. “I’d like that.”

She wasn’t expecting Mika to invite her in when she drove her home, so she wasn’t disappointed. Much. Mika did agree to a spontaneous invitation for a walk in the park the following day, though.

The next day dawned with a chill. The cold front that had been threatening to arrive for a few days moved in before noon, and the temperature dropped further. Mika met Lauren in the park anyway. Both women wore heavy coats. Mika had a hood, while Lauren wore a headscarf. They were still too cold, especially when a light drizzle joined the heavy, chilly breeze. Lauren had thought to bring gloves, but Mika kept her hands in her pockets for warmth.

Lauren wasn’t willing to call an end to the walk, though. Her friendship with Mika still felt very tentative, and she felt that cutting the time short would risk not getting to know her better at a critical time.

When Mika made the decision, her heart initially sank.

“I’m too cold,” she said. “Even by my standards it’s too cold to be outside. Would you like to come back to the house?” she asked. “I can warm us up with tea. Perhaps we can watch a movie.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” Lauren agreed, glad that the afternoon wasn’t over.

They walked back to their cars. “I think you know how to find it,” Mika stated, with a half smile.

“I do,” Lauren agreed.

Within a few minutes, Lauren was at the front door. Mika had only arrived seconds ahead of her, and she let her in before she’d had the chance to ring the doorbell.

She glanced down to check the woman’s footwear. As she’d expected, she was wearing house slippers. Lauren stepped out of her shoes, intending to enter in her stockinged feet, but with a smile, Mika indicated a small rack of guest slippers. “Please,” she said, and Lauren slipped her feet into a pair.

Mika stopped suddenly after taking a step into her living room. Lauren almost collided with her. “Oh, I hope you’re not allergic to cats,” Mika said.

“I’m not,” said Lauren.

With both women in slippers, Mika was about two inches shorter than her, or about five five. Taller than she’d first guessed, but of course Lauren had been wearing her pumps, while Mika had only the cute pink socks.

Under her coat, Mika wore a sweater and warm pants. “Will you give me a moment to change?” she asked, gesturing toward the living room. “I’ve started the kettle. I’ll brew tea in a moment.”

“Of course,” Lauren said.

“Feel free to look around,” Mika said, before leaving in the other direction.

A tall, unobtrusive speaker stood on either side of the large TV. Beside one was a yellow and white cat. It raised its head and an amber eye turned balefully upon Lauren. After a few seconds, it lost interest and the head lowered to rest on an outstretched paw.

Photos were arranged elegantly on the alabaster eggshell walls. Most were of weddings. They must be Mika’s professional work. Most of the couples were women, but there were a few with two grooms and two with both genders.

When Mika returned, she wore a black shirt with an image of a teapot, proclaiming itself a “Tea Shirt,” and dark blue capri pants. Her boyish figure didn’t detract from her femininity. Her intense dark eyes, small nose and narrow chin gave her a delicate beauty. But it wasn’t her looks that attracted Lauren to her. Well, not only her looks. The remote expression she’d worn when they met made her feel that something in Mika’s past had been very hard for her, yet she was strong in spite of it, and in spite of her shyness and possible loneliness. In the short time Lauren had spent with her, she was coming to feel that she had a depth to her character that drew her in. A personal gravity.

Nodding to the sleeping creature by the speaker, Lauren said, “He seems like an efficient watch cat.”

“Oh, she is,” Mika replied. “You would not pass her if you were carrying chicken. Or even cat food, if she’s hungry enough. Her name’s Janeway.” She gazed fondly at the cat for a moment. The cat ignored her name. “I will bring us tea,” she said.

Lauren introduced herself to the cat with a tentative scratch on the back of her neck. She opened up an eye again, decided she didn’t need the excitement of thirty seconds of wakefulness, and ignored her completely.

One photo drew her back to study again. Two young brides were gazing blissfully into each other’s eyes, each with a beauty and radiance that only exists at a wedding. In a typical wedding pose, they were each a quarter turn from face on to the camera, so that the photographer could capture them fully while they looked only at each other.

One of the women seemed barely more than a teenager. She had red hair in a complex weave that had been brought forward over her left shoulder. Even styled, it fell almost to her waist. Her dress was white, with an unusual pale violet shade seeming to glow through an outer gauzy sheath in places. Her eyes were narrowed and lips parted in what appeared to be candid laughter, both hands holding her wife’s wrist.

The other was maybe slightly older, but not by a great deal. She had hair of pale gold, partly braided into a crown, partly woven down below her shoulders, with some teased out to frame her face. Her dress was more traditionally white, and more revealing than the younger girl’s. Her eyes were a startlingly bright blue, and her expression was adoring.

Many of the other photos were just as good, perhaps better, but this one had pride of place. “I love this,” Lauren said, hearing Mika entering the room. The movement stopped, and she wondered if maybe she hadn’t heard the woman entering the room, but when she turned around, Mika was frozen in place, blinking. After a moment, she stepped forward and lowered the tray she carried gingerly to the coffee table before speaking, her face lowered so that Lauren couldn’t see her expression.

“That’s not one of mine,” she said. Her voice was husky.

“I thought these were all yours,” Lauren said, uncomprehending.

Mika looked up. Her expression was more bleak than at any time she’d seen her. She seemed to be looking fifty yards past Lauren, though her eyes were on her face. “Look more closely,” she said, softly.

Lauren turned back to the photo. The blonde was stunningly beautiful, in a classical Western style. Other than how lovely she was, Lauren didn’t see anything curious about her. She turned her attention back to the redhead. The unusual dress she wore had long, flowing sleeves, and a wide belt. The edge of a large bow peeked out from behind her. But there was something familiar about her slightly upturned eyes. Although they were far more alive in this photo than they had been whenever Lauren had seen them…

The words spilled out fast, as if Lauren didn’t know she’d be able to speak if she’d held them back. “Oh, my God, this is you.”

The weight of the image’s meaning crashed into her. This wasn’t Mika and an ex. It wouldn’t be here, given such central meaning, if the blonde was merely someone who’d parted ways with her. She felt her eyes begin to water before she turned back around. She couldn’t see the expression of the woman now seated at the table, because her sight was blurring. She took the chair across from her, and picked up the napkin Mika had thoughtfully provided to dab at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Lauren said. “I assume…” she trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

“February, 2020,” Mika said. “Her funeral was just before St. Valentine’s day.”

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” said Lauren.

Her eyes had cleared enough to see that Mika was looking toward the photo. After a moment, she took a risk, and extended her left hand across the coffee table. Mika glanced down, frowned for a moment, then reached out and took the hand in her right, giving Lauren a weak smile.