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From the backseat of the Uber she requested before Twyla had even sent over her location, Alexis manages to direct Twyla into a nearby Starbucks. When Twyla says, “I, um – I think I need to order something?” Alexis holds her phone away from her mouth and inches forward in her seat.
“Hi,” she tells her driver. “I like, love that you picked me up, thank you so much. And your car smells really good. I will definitely be giving you a five-star rating, and I would also really love a five-star rating, so I’m totally not trying to be annoying, but the thing is – ” She draws in a deep breath, holding it in her chest for a moment; every muscle in her body feels like it’s shaking. “The thing is, I’m pretty sure I’m literally living the rom-com moment of my life right now, so it would be really great if I could get to where I’m going faster?”
He throws her a skeptical look in the rearview mirror. “There’s traffic.”
Alexis sighs, slumping back. “Right.” She brings the speaker of her phone closer to her mouth again. “Twy, there’s traffic,” she reports sadly.
“That’s okay,” Twyla says. “How long will you be?”
Alexis looks at her driver’s GPS. “Twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes,” Twyla repeats. There’s a beat, then she says, in this soft, intimate voice, like she’s not surrounded by Starbucks patrons and Alexis isn’t sitting in a car with a stranger, “I’ve waited a long time. I can wait twenty more minutes.”
Grip tightening on her phone as she presses it even closer to her cheek, Alexis says, “I can’t.” She takes another big, shaky breath, and closes her eyes. “I love you, too, Twy.”
Twyla makes a small, choked sound on the other end of the line, and then sniffles. “I’m crying by myself in a Starbucks,” she says, sounding like she can’t believe it.
Alexis grins so hard it hurts. “Babe,” she says, and it’s suddenly different, using that word for Twyla, meaning something more. “Babe. Don’t worry. That’s, like, a universal New York experience.”
--
She finds Twyla at a tiny corner table, an over-stuffed backpack resting next to a cup of coffee. Twyla stands as soon as they spot each other, and she steps into Alexis’ fierce hug, a perfect fit, her nose pressed above Alexis’ heart.
They hold onto each other for a long time, even when someone squeezes by and elbows Alexis’ back in the process. “I can’t believe you just – showed up here,” Alexis murmurs. Some of Twyla’s hair gets in her mouth and she doesn’t even care. “For… me.”
Twyla pulls away enough to look up into Alexis’ eyes. “For you,” she says, with the kind of firmness that doesn’t leave room for a single doubt.
Alexis cups Twyla’s sweet face in her hands, running her thumbs reverently over freckles and nearly-dried tears. “I should’ve stayed for you.”
“No!” Twyla says right away, reaching up and wrapping her fingers around Alexis’ wrists. “No, Alexis. You’re doing what you were meant to do. I just want to be a part of it.”
Chin dropping in a series of quick nods, Alexis says, “Yes.” They’re far from Café Tropical, but they are in a coffee shop, and Alexis acts on the thought that’s come to occupy her mind whenever she smells coffee beans: she leans in, and gives Twyla a kiss.