Coffee and Chocolate

It was so cold and it was only November. The heater had kicked in and she put on her rattiest yoga pants and a Radiohead shirt. His Radiohead shirt, she thought, and she hugged herself. Happy at the thought that she would see him soon. Tomorrow, she'd pick him up at the airport.  

The white roses sat on the kitchen table, like an old lover, refusing to leave. She wanted to dump them in the trash because it only made her confused. But they were pretty and smelled good. Besides, he was just a friend, after all. Their time had passed. The flowers were a reminder of the good times or of the friendship that remained. Or were they? Was he wooing her back? Haunting her so she couldn't move on?

Just as she was finally going to call it a night, making sure the stove was turned off, the doors locked, the paints put away, there was a knock at the door, jolting her awake from her reverie. Her phone buzzed. It was T and his painfully beautiful face looking at her but she could hear his voice before she answered the phone. 

It was coming from behind the door.  Slowly she opened it, and there he was.  T, flushed, flustered, with a colorful bouquet of flowers and an anxious gleam in his eyes. But he wasn't arriving till tomorrow, when she was going to pick him up!

And yet, there he was. She wrapped her arms around him, crushing the flowers. She pulled him into the apartment, and they kissed. A long and passionate kiss like they hadn't seen each other in weeks. Because they hadn't.  

The new messenger app buzzes straight to your phone, like you’re getting a text message instead of a private message on Facebook.

Hello. 

One word. She almost deleted it like it was spam. Then her eyes widened when she saw that it came from Ryan. Ryan Lusk. Now that’s a name she hadn’t heard in ages. 

But you know how it is with social networks, you can be friends with someone from your kindergarten class, a passing acquaintance, an ex-boyfriend, or in this case, someone that reminded you of an ex…

     She locked the doors and turned out the lights and settled down on her favorite chair with her phone, a book, and a cup of chamomile tea. 

Her phone lit up with the unread message. Hello.

Heyyy! she typed back, trying to sound chipper.

It’s been a while. How are you? came his quick reply.

Her fingers weren’t fast enough.  If she wrote “Good” was that too cold?  Did she have to include some details about her new life, her suburban life? The house, the kid, the dog, oh yeah, the husband. Would it sound like gloating?  Do her updates not show up on his news feed? Facebook is weird.

Whatever. And her fingers tapped on her iPhone 5.  

Things are good. Livin’ the dream. She wrote.

     There were lags between the messages. The app  still has its kinks. Plus, there was the time difference. Ryan was probably brewing his first  cup of coffee, while she was getting ready for bed.

She continued, “I haven’t been back home in 7 years. But thanks to Facebook, I’ve kept in touch with Neil, Carissa, Tom… (her voice would have trailed right there had she actually been speaking those names, instead of writing.)

Ryan must’ve read it that way too, because it looked like he hesitated. Like he started typing, then deleting, thinking of what to say.

I see Neil from time to time, but haven’t heard from Carissa since she was last in town three years ago. She still looks HOT!!!!

Smiley face emoticon, she typed, smiling to herself as she remembered how much Ryan pined for Carissa.

And? she typed, a little too anxious.  (Did he not mention Tom on purpose? Like he was treading carefully because of what had happened? Or what didn’t happen?)

I saw Tom in Bangkok earlier this year. He deleted his Facebook account. He is, well, you know, Tom, Ryan replied.

     Back in reality, she could hear the baby shifting around in his bed. He was four. (Is that still a baby?)

Ryan: Hey, I have to go now, but it was nice to chat with you. 

You too, she wrote back. 

And she meant it too. Of the lot, Ryan was the nice one. The one with no drama. He was the calming force in the group.

     She peeked into the baby’s room but he was still asleep. The night light flickered and she thought she saw something move, but it was just a shadow. Like the shadows of the past filling her head right now.