Petra doesn’t like to think of it as spying. It’s more like neighborly interest, she tells herself. And it’s not like she’s looking in anyone’s windows. She just likes to take a break around ten in the morning, when she knows that Jane will be watering the window boxes and looking radiant.
Jane’s Flowers & Bouquets is right across the street from Petra’s tattoo boutique -- boutique, not parlor, because she’s working on branding herself as the kind of tattoo artist who uses pastel colors and will not, under any circumstances, permanently ink swear words onto someone’s lower back -- and while they’ve always been friendly, Jane and Petra have never actually had a real conversation. They wave to each other when they open and when they close and Petra is always at the window to watch Jane water her flowers, but she has yet to even introduce herself. She tells herself it’s silly to have a crush on someone she’s never really met but Jane is gorgeous and she seems like a really good mom and she always seems to be smiling. Petra thinks she could use someone in her life who smiles that much. She’s made vague plans to go over and say hello and try to subtly figure out a) if she’s dating anyone, b) if she’s into girls, and c) if she might be interested in getting coffee together sometime. But in the end, it’s Jane who comes to her.
It’s a Saturday afternoon when the bell above the door rings and Petra looks up from the counter to see Jane coming in.
“Hi,” she says, with her usual smile. “I’m Jane. Of Jane’s Flowers. But you probably already know that. Since you see me every day.”
“Yeah, Jane! It’s good to finally actually meet you.” She steps around the counter to shake Jane’s hand and tells herself that it’s silly to be getting nervous about this. “I’m Petra. What can I do for you?”
“I actually wanted to make an appointment to get a tattoo and I was going to call you and then I decided that was just silly. My mom runs the shop on Saturday so I thought I’d come in myself.”
Petra refrains from saying that she knows Jane’s mom runs the shop on Saturday because of her habit of watching Jane water the flowers and instead asks, “What kind of tattoo were you thinking of?”
“Something for my son. He’s turning a year old in a few weeks and I was thinking I’m maybe get his name, something pretty simple. His name’s Mateo.”
Petra smiles. “That’s a lovely name. You know, if you wanted a bit more than that if you give me a list of things he likes or things you associate with him and I could make a little design and run it by you.” She glances over Jane’s shoulder at the shop across the street. “Or I could just do a little flower design. You could pick the flowers.”
Jane smiles her heartbreaker smile and nods. “That sounds really nice.”
Petra goes back behind the counter and pulls up the calendar on the computer. “We can schedule you for a consult -- that’s when I’ll show you my design and we can talk about anything you’d like changed and about the placement, and then after that you’ll have your appointment.”
They schedule the consult for next Saturday and Petra writes out the information on one of her pastel pink appointment cards. She hesitates for a moment then writes her cell number below where the office number is printed on the card.
“You can call me, if you like,” she says, feeling that her words are coming out garbled and oddly high-pitched. “I’d like to go out for coffee sometime. You know. If you’re interested.”
“That’d be nice,” Jane says, taking the card. “I always like to get to know my neighbors.”
Petra wants to put her head down on the marble countertop. She tries to think of a way to say I’m gay and I want to go on a gay coffee date with you without. You know. Saying that. Instead she just smiles tightly and says, “Yeah, I figured it was time we get to know each other.”
Jane calls her on Wednesday to ask if she wants to get coffee before work on Thursday. “As long as that won’t be too early for you, I’ve always been an early riser.” It’s a bit earlier than Petra would usually get up (usually she only gets out of bed long enough before the shop opens to have time to put on her makeup and do her hair) but she’s not about to say no to Jane. She sets three alarms for Thursday morning to be sure she doesn’t miss it. She even picks out an outfit the night before and lays it out. Which is silly, because this isn’t a real date. But she does it anyway.
Petra shows up at the coffeeshop early out of nerves and gets a table by the windows. She looks up when she hears the door open and turns to see Jane coming in, carrying violets. Which makes Petra’s heart skip a beat. She may not know everything about flowers, but she does have a fairly extensive knowledge of lesbian culture through history and she knows that violets have long been code for sapphism. And Jane must know a lot about flowers, which means that this can’t just be a coincidence. Right? A straight woman wouldn’t bring her violets on a coffee date. She waves to Jane, and Jane makes her way over to the table. Petra stands a little awkwardly and extends a hand, just as Jane goes in for a hug.
“Oh! Sorry,” she says. “Is a hug okay? I’m a big hug person.”
“Yeah, of course,” Petra says. She can feel herself blushing. “Hugs are good.” It’s brief, but warm and sincere and it gives Petra butterflies.
“I brought you flowers,” Jane says, handing the violets over. “Also a big flower person. Obviously.”
Petra takes them, holding them to her face. “Thank you,” she says, and hesitates for just a moment before asking, “Do you, uh, know the history of violets?”
“Of course. I know the history of all my flowers.” She bites her lip and Petra feels like a walking cliche for being so enchanted. “That’s sort of why I brought them.”
“And here I thought this wasn’t going to be a real date.”
Jane laughs, nervous but cute. “I wasn’t really sure. The flowers were sort of a test.”
At that Petra smiles, wide and uncontrolled, as they sit down across from each other. “Well, I’m glad I passed.”
Leaning her head on her hand, Jane says, “Me too.”