Chapter 3
On her way home from work, Vera decided to stop in to a cafe to treat herself. She felt the need to tell the cashier as she was handed her iced coffee that it was her birthday and she would be spending it with a friend. The cashier smiled politely at her, but Vera realized that saying it aloud made it real.
Friend. Was that was Joan was? Yes. Her friend. Hers. The thought made her smile.
The minute Vera walked into her house, she stripped down to her delicates and kicked her uniform in a pile by the door. It was so uncomfortably hot and she was glad to be home where she could air out in private. She opened the fridge door and closed her eyes as a waft of cool air hit her skin, which rose into goosebumps. There was no one to tell her she should use a glass instead of drinking straight out of the orange juice container, and so she did. She picked a few blueberries out of a bowl and popped them in her mouth, and headed to take a cool shower to refresh herself.
While brushing out her wet hair Vera wondered if she should call Joan to confirm that she was indeed invited over to her house. A message left on her car though must mean more than an empty pleasantry, shouldn't it? No, she would just show up with purpose. It was just drinks. They were work colleague; friends. Then why did she feel the need to pace and stare at the multiple outfits she had laid out on her bed. She thought again of that night where she had touched Joan's hand out of instinct.
They had been laughing together, Vera had felt comfortable enough to lean back in her chair and unbutton her shirt at the throat. Joan had a very dry wit, and once she got going she was really quite funny. It was a huge change from the serious and intense Joan that patrolled the prison halls. Vera had leaned over an patted Joan's leg, "you're too much!" she had chuckled. Before Vera had time to realize what was happening, Joan had leaned over and kissed her. It was awkward and unsure.
Joan had apologized when she pulled away, "That was unprofessional. I don't know what came over me." She ran her hand over her bun. "I think maybe we should call it a night, Vera, don't you?"
At work it was never discussed again, and at further debriefings Joan had kept her distance. Vera assumed it really was a mistake, but she had seen the look on Joan's face after she had pulled away. Her eyes had been afraid but for a mere moment. Vera hadn't kissed her back, but she hadn't been the one to pull away either. Today though, the hand gesture, the offer for drinks. A meeting without professional obligations, alone outside of the prison together. It was creating butterflies in Vera's stomach.
Vera paced. She had put on and removed makeup multiple times and it was quickly approaching 9 o'clock. Birthday drinks. The last time she had gone out drinking for her birthday, she had come home missing one high heel and had ripped tights. That was over a decade ago though, so she was really unsure what the protocol was now. Should she take a cab? Packing an overnight bag was presumptuous, but she thought it best to pack a toothbrush. Just in case. At the last minute, before she left to the honking cab, Vera ran back to her room and threw a pair of clean underpants in her purse. She'd read that it was the thing to do in a woman's magazine when she'd been at the doctor's office.