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It had become almost a routine.
The man at the front desk greeted Kim in that tone you use when you’ve been seeing someone around for a while. Not that they had ever exchanged more than a sentence or two of polite small talk. Today it was about Friday the thirteenth. The guard seemed visibly unsettled by it and was clearly giving the date in the calendar more weight than it deserved. Kim only offered a faint smile before continuing into the building.
She could probably find her way to the visitor room reserved for inmates and their lawyers with her eyes closed by now.
The same chipped walls, a barred window, and a table with two chairs in the middle.
But today something caught her attention.
On the table lay a paper tray with a slice of chocolate cake covered in icing. Beside it, a neatly folded napkin and a plastic spoon.
She narrowed her eyes at the sight for a second; it looked out of place here.
She sat down on one of the chairs and set aside the bag she mostly carried so as not to attract attention. From it she took a folder full of random papers and placed it next to her.
She tried not to visit too often, yet never managed to stay away for what would have been reasonable. If anyone had any doubts about it, no one made their doubts obvious to her.
When the guard brought Jimmy in, she felt that familiar sensation, the air catching in her lungs for a second. Exactly in the moment he gave her a brief crooked smile.
They nodded to the guard in greeting; as soon as the cuffs were removed, he stepped back behind the metal door of the room.
“Hi, Jimmy,” she said when he sat down across from her.
“Hi.”
It lasted only a second, but she didn’t miss the strange glimmer in his eyes at hearing his name from her. She knew they still called him Saul in prison. She was probably the only one who used his real name.
Their conversation picked up where they had left off the last time, as if several weeks hadn’t passed, as if they had only met during a lunch break.
She told him about her job, and he told her stories from prison life.
Not once did his gaze drift to the cake, nor did he mention it, yet it lay there like an unspoken secret that somehow didn’t exist.
She considered making a light remark, whether it was cake day at the prison or a subtle bribe for lawyers, but she didn’t say it aloud. She could easily imagine Jimmy running with it, laughing and agreeing to anything she suggested.
Instead, she looked at the tray for the first time and pulled it closer in one smooth motion. She took the plastic spoon and cut off a piece of the chocolate cake with some icing.
She lifted her eyes to Jimmy as she put the bite into her mouth.
A strong taste of cocoa spread over her tongue, rich and clear without unnecessary sweetness. Exactly how she liked it.
He had been in the middle of another story, but at the sight of her he faltered halfway through the sentence.
“It’s good,” she said simply, and that familiar softness appeared in his face she used to know so well.
In truth, it was more than good.
She pushed the tray toward him and handed him the spoon. His gaze fell to it before returning to her, an unspoken question in his expression.
“You should try it.”
He didn’t protest, even though something unspoken lingered in his eyes.
Instead he took the plastic spoon from her, and their hands brushed a little longer than necessary.
It was strange how, with limited time and contact, a person could cling to every small thing.
Like the last time their fingers had touched while passing a cigarette.
More than once.
Today, it seemed, instead of a cigarette they were sharing cake.
He slowly picked up his unfinished thought again.
She watched him while he eagerly described helping one of the inmates with his case and how he was absolutely certain the man’s lawyer was a complete idiot.
She reached for the napkin and lightly wiped her lips before setting it down on the empty tray where only a few crumbs remained.
Their eyes met just before the guard returned and they both stood almost on cue.
“That’s all for today,” she said neutrally.
She reached for her bag to put the folder away, and when she glanced back at the table, the napkin was gone.
She looked up at Jimmy, the guard already fastening the cuffs around his wrists. There was a flicker of amusement in his expression, and she gave a small shake of her head.
Before he turned to leave and gave her one last look, she could have sworn his lips moved in a silent birthday wish.