Chapter 1: Colombia, it's weird
This story is a direct follow-up to "Christmas Eve", and "The Litchfield book club", but you don't have to read these 2 stories to understand the plot of "Tea or Coffee". I'll tell you everything you need to know as the chapters go.
This first one focuses on Flaca (who has been living in Colombia with Maritza for a few months), and Gloria (who runs a coffee shop called Flaritza.) Thanks so much, for the time you take to read.
XXX
There was the car sliding quickly over the long strip of asphalt, the smell of the car's heater both damp and sweet, the cup of coffee she held in her hand, with her name written on it. She glanced at Juliana, lying under a blanket in the back seat. The little one was delighted to have a bed in Gloria's car, even if it was only for an hour.
Flaca was coming home, even though she didn't really have a home in the United States anymore. She could feel joy in every fiber of her body. She wouldn't see the lights of Newyork tonight, but she knew that in Gloria's apartment in Litchfield, she would be quiet to rest and think. It was all she needed.
"We're arriving soon," Gloria said gently, looking at the black slippers Flaca was wearing. Putting on this type of shoe in January in the Conecticutt was not an option, but in Bogota it was 25 degrees fahrenheit .
"I went straight to the airport on my way out of work," Flaca explained. "Maritza brought me Juliana."
"I can't believe you work in a bank," Gloria scoffed, still kindly. Freedom had made her so sweet.
"Incredible but true." Flaca barely answered, preferring to be evasive.
"What's wrong nena?" Gloria had hesitated before asking the question, but Maritza's absence and Flaca's silence were enough clues to understand that there might be a problem.
Flaca rested her left hand on top of her head, and with her right she untied the tight ponytail she wore every day to work. What was wrong? She thought of Bogota, a city that was sometimes beautiful, sometimes frightening. She thought of the tiny apartment they lived inSan Mateo and the pieces of crushed glass that hung over the walls of the residence to protect peoples from burglaries. She hated those shards of glass that reminded her every day that the place was dangerous. And above all, she thought back to her fear of not being able to make this country her own. Flaca shook her hair, which fell over her shoulders.
"Colombia is weird," she said simply.
XXX
"Gloria," Flaca said in the dark. The entrance of the building, plunged into darkness, was freezing. She couldn't remember that this place was so hostile before she left in June. Juliana, barely awake, clung to her. The luggage was heavy.
"The light is out. Put your bag down here, I'll come back and get it later", said Gloria.
Then, she grabed her free hand to guide her down the stairs.
XXX
Gloria filled two plates with the black bean rice she had prepared before leaving for JFK. Flaca was sitting at the kitchen table, playing with her glass of water. She took small sips every now and then.
"She fell asleep quickly," Gloria asked.
"Yes, she has her night light anyway. She sleeps without it at home, but I'd rather put it in the room, while she gets used to sleeping here."
"You're staying for the week?" Gloria asked. She knew the answer, though. She remembered a cheerful and talkative Flaca, but the girl in front of her had maybe said about thirty words to her since their reunion.
"Yes, if it's ok for you. Maybe Julio and Benny will want the room back."
"No problem, Julio went back to college and Benny got a roommate in Newyork. He says there's more work there."
"Thank you," Flaca replied. She smiled then planted her fork in the rice."I'll take the opportunity to see the girls," she continued. "How are things going with Nicky?"
"Good." Gloria replied."She's got a lot to deal with in the coffee shop, and she spends a lot of time with Red, but she does what she can."
"I think I miss this job a bit," said Flaca. "Staying behind a wicket all day can be long sometime."
Gloria remembered the girl's insolence in Litchfield, the energy she had put into entering the lingerie factory, talking about her ambitions. Yet, she said nothing. Flaca had grown. It was probably not her ambitions that made her sad, but the difficulty of living in a country that was not hers, or of taking on new responsibilities.
"Did you call Maritza?" Gloria asked, thinking of Juliana that Flaca had taken with her.
"A few texts. She gives you a kiss, and she said, she would want to be there."
Gloria looked down at the small Formica table and brushed some invisible crumbs there.
"Maybe one day it will be possible. Maybe Trump won't be elected next year."
"Yeah, I'm going to come back just to vote, I think," said a more cheerful Flaca.
XXX
Flaca was sleeping on Julio's bed, her hair covering her face. Gloria had caught sight of her as she glanced around the bedroom as she walked down the hall.
Her sons had left home a few months earlier and her daughters had their lives. Work occupied all her days but the house was a little empty at times without the noise and mess of the boys. So she was happy to welcoming Flaca and Juliana for a week.
Now sitting on the couch in front of a cooking show, she mentally listed the tasks that awaited her for the next day: preparing meals, suppliers to contact, Christmas decorations to remove in the coffee shop. She should go to bed, but decided to give herself a few more minutes of relaxation. The television screen which cast a bright light and her phone which she consulted at the same time, were not a good combination to prepare a peaceful night. But, she wanted to send a message to Ceci before going to bed.
The evening of December 24 had been a pleasant moment for all the guests. Perhaps that was what made her eldest daughter push the door of the Flaritza. She did it from time to time, with Elena or with a redhead whom she had introduced to her as her colleague. However, this afternoon, it is with Christina, the second daughter of Aleida, that Ceci was drinking a tea.
"Hey Ceci. Crazy, this coincidence. Did you meet Christina in high school?" She quickly wrote those words, then sent the message wondering if she had done right. There could be many reasons that led a school nurse and a student from the high school where she worked to meet in a coffee shop, but they were probably confidential. The answer, short and firm, came quickly:
"Yes. We needed to talk. Good night. See you soon."
Gloria wouldn't know more. Aleida, who was counting on her to find out the truth about this date would be disappointed. But, was it enough important for breaking the fragile bond she had with her daughter again? Gloria sighed. Then, she turned off the television, grabbed her cell phone, and went to bed.
