Chapter Twenty-Six

As she stepped out of the bus, Jennifer spotted the restaurant just across the road from where she was standing – a very cute Italian-cantina-looking place, with outside tables decked with red-and-white checkered tablecloths. Most of the tables were already taken.

She knew that she was early. As the bus pulled into its stop, the digital clock at the front of it read 7:05 p.m. – twenty-five minutes before the arranged date time.

Jennifer's first thought was to quickly walk over to the restaurant and check their menu before her date arrived. Not to see if there was anything that she could eat – after sixteen years of prison food, Jennifer could eat half-fertilized chicken eggs, and she'd do it with a smile on her face and a song in her heart – no, she wanted to check what she could actually afford because, no matter what, she always paid her own way.

In prison, Jennifer had learned how to sew, and she was great at it – precise and fast in equal measure. Upon her release and with the help from an ex-inmate organization called One Stop Career Center, Jennifer secured a job as a sewing machine operator in Northridge, not that far from where she lived. Despite working long hours, the pay wasn't that great, which translated into almost no leftover money at the end of every week, which in turn translated into not being able to afford much – but Jennifer fought the urge to go check the menu and walked in the opposite direction. If things were too expensive, she could always use the ‘I'm on a diet' excuse and just order a starter.

At the street corner, she lit up a cigarette and watched as the smoke from the burning tip danced in the air before her eyes. In prison, she used to pretend that she was the smoke, snaking up and away, flying over those walls and disappearing into freedom. As strange as it might sound, that odd smoke dance calmed her. It made her stronger. It gave her hope.

As she was finishing her second cigarette, she saw her date, Russell, walk round the opposite corner from where she was standing and enter the restaurant.

Her heart picked up speed inside her chest. She had to admit that she was nervous… very nervous.

Jennifer had met Russell just a little over four weeks ago, on the 233 bus from Northridge to Van Nuys. He had boarded the bus three stops after her, as she was returning home after another long day at work. The bus was almost full. The only seat left was the one next to Jennifer, but Russell surprised her with how polite he was.

‘Is it all right if I take this seat?' Russell asked, in a voice that sounded just as tired as she felt.

‘It's a public bus, isn't it?' Jennifer replied, without making eye contact with the stranger, her tone careless. ‘Have at it.'

‘It is, yes,' Russell agreed. ‘But I understand that sometimes people just want to sit by themselves. Sometimes we just need a bit of space. If you do, I respect that and I don't mind standing up. It's really not a problem.'

This time, Jennifer looked up at the man standing by the empty seat next to her. He was about six-foot and well built. His thick dark hair was brushed off his high forehead and his beard was long enough to cover all of his jaw. His dark-brown eyes sat behind rimless glasses perched on a Greek nose, which gave him a somewhat intelligent demeanor, despite his dusty clothes. He was holding a workman's bag in his right hand, with his hard hat hooked onto its handle. He looked exhausted.

‘It's OK,' Jennifer replied, her voice not so careless as a moment ago. ‘You look like you could do with having a seat.'

‘I look that bad, huh?'

‘No. You just look tired.'

As Russell took the seat, Jennifer frowned at him for a second. ‘Have I met you before?' she asked. ‘Your face looks… vaguely familiar.'

Russell looked back at Jennifer with an analytical stare before his eyebrows arched. ‘If you travel this bus route frequently, you might've seen me around. I ride it into work early in the morning and back home at around this time most days, but I don't think we've ever actually met.'

Jennifer took a moment to think about it. ‘Maybe,' she accepted.

‘I'm Russell, by the way.' He offered her his hand.

‘Jennifer,' she replied, accepting the gesture. ‘But everyone calls me Jenny.'

That was the whole extent of their conversation for that evening. When Russell's stop came up, just a couple of stops before Jennifer's, he thanked her again for the seat and wished her a good night.

‘I hope you get some rest,' Jennifer said.

‘Thank you. You too.'

As soon as those words left his lips, Russell paused, realizing the double meaning of his sentence. His backpedaling was funny and cute at the same time.

‘I didn't mean that you look bad… or tired… I just… you know… you know what I meant, right?'

Jennifer smiled, her chin jerking slightly forward.

‘The door is gonna close. You better hurry.'

‘Yeah…' He hesitated for an instant before grabbing his bag. ‘OK, bye.'

Two whole weeks went by before they met again – same bus route, but this time there were no seats available. Russell stood a couple of seats ahead of Jennifer's. They recognized each other and exchanged a smile that seemed to carry more than just a simple ‘hello'.

Three stops before Russell's, the lady that was sitting next to Jennifer got up and exited the bus. Russell stepped up, but before he was able to say anything, Jennifer nodded at the empty seat.

‘Just sit down. No need to ask permission.'

Russell took the seat, with a renewed smile.

‘I wasn't about to ask permission,' he whispered through the corner of his mouth. ‘I was about to say that it's nice to see you again.'

Jennifer had to accept that Russell was pretty smooth.

This time they chatted until Russell's stop came up.

It wasn't until another whole week had gone by that they met again. This time, early in the morning, on their way to work. The bus was only half full, with loads of available seats, including the one next to Jennifer. Russell took it and their conversation was a lot more free-flowing than the previous time. Just before his stop came up, Russell took a deep breath and decided to try his luck.

‘Listen, would you like to maybe go get a drink sometime after work… maybe even dinner… a coffee… something?'

Jennifer paused. It had been such a long time since anyone had asked her out, that the words sounded almost foreign to her.

‘Umm… when?'

Russell's shrug was subtle but nervous. When? sounded hopeful. ‘Umm… uh… whenever you're free, really.'

‘I'm not sure when that will be.'

‘OK…' Russell paused, before quickly reaching into his workman's bag for a piece of paper and a pencil. ‘Here.' He jotted down his number. ‘Just let me know when you're free, and we can arrange something. How does that sound?'

Jennifer nodded in silence.

That had been a week ago.

Jennifer checked her watch. Russell had arrived exactly on time, and he had clearly made an effort. He looked elegant, with a button-up shirt and a blue tie under a well-fitting blazer jacket.

Jennifer looked down at her dress. It was a simple floral dress – one that she had sewn herself just a few days ago, exclusively for that night. She turned and checked her reflection in the dark shop window she was standing next to.

‘I look like a fucking bag lady,' she said to herself, with a shake of the head. ‘This was a mistake. I shouldn't be here. What am I doing?'

Jennifer turned to walk away, but her reflection called her back.

Jenny, where the fuck are you going?

She paused. ‘Back home, that's where I'm going. I should never have said "yes" to a date. I should never have messaged him. This was all a mistake.'

Her reflection tried to argue, but this time, Jennifer didn't want to hear it. She stubbed out her cigarette and, with her head down, quickly began making her way toward the bus stop.

‘Jenny?' she heard Russell's voice calling from a distance. She hadn't noticed that he had stepped back out of the restaurant just seconds after she saw him entering it.

‘Oh shit!' she whispered to herself, picking up the pace.

‘Jenny,' he called again. ‘Hey, it's here. Don Giovanni. You're going the wrong way.'

Jennifer's heart was beating so loud, she was afraid that the entire street could hear it. She took a breath, breathed it out and turned to look back at Russell. He waved at her, displaying the brightest smile she'd seen in a very long time. That was when she noticed that he had a red rose in his right hand.

Too late to walk away now.

‘Sorry,' she lied, as she approached her date. ‘For some reason I thought the restaurant was on the other side of the road.'

Russell handed her the rose. ‘Cheesy, right?'

Jennifer smiled. ‘Not at all. It's actually very sweet of you. Thank you.'

They turned and Russell led her into the restaurant.

Dinner went a lot better and smoother than Jennifer had expected. Not only because the restaurant wasn't too pricey, but Russell also proved to be a funny, respectful and very attentive person. When the check arrived, he tried to take care of it. His point was that he had been the one who had invited her out, but Jennifer was having none of it and insisted on paying her own way. Russell didn't argue. It was clear that he understood that it wasn't about money. It was about pride, and he totally appreciated that.

The time was approaching 9:30 p.m. when, just as they ordered coffee, Russell asked Jennifer if she would like to go for one last drink. He told her that he knew this Mexican bar, less than a block away, which served the best Mezcalita he'd ever had.

Jennifer had no idea what a Mezcalita was.

Russell explained that it was simply a Margarita made with Mezcal instead of tequila.

Jennifer looked back at him with the same blank stare. She clearly didn't know what Mezcal was either.

‘Oh, you definitely need to try it then,' Russell insisted. ‘It will change your world. Trust me. And please…' His chin dipped down ever so slightly. ‘Allow me to get it.' He immediately lifted a hand with his index finger pointing up before Jennifer could contest it. ‘One drink… let me buy you one drink, especially because you've never had a Mezcalita before, so you might not like it. It's unfair for me to ask you to spend money on something you don't know and might not enjoy.'

Jennifer pondered over Russell's words. She couldn't argue that he had a point. She got to her feet.

‘Let me go to the bathroom and I'll think about it, OK?'

‘Sounds fair,' Russell replied with a single nod.

Jennifer didn't really need the bathroom. She needed the mirror.

‘What the hell do I do?' she asked her reflection, as she placed her hands under the cold tap.

You go and you get that drink with him, that's what you do.

‘Why?'

Two reasons.

Jennifer waited.

One – you like him. He's probably the first man in forever who has treated you like a human being instead of a piece of meat.

No counterargument from Jennifer there. ‘What's the second reason?'

You could do with some real sex tonight, you know what I'm saying?

‘Fuck you!' Jennifer flipped the mirror off, dried her hands and returned to the table.

‘OK, one drink,' she told Russell, the expression on her face telling him that she meant it. ‘I have to work tomorrow morning.'

‘That's a deal. One drink.' He quickly finished his coffee. ‘If you like it, we can go back some other time for more, what do you say?'

Smooth,Jennifer thought, trying to curb a smile.

‘If I like it,' she replied, as she too finished her coffee.

Russell grabbed his blazer jacket and, as she stood up, he held Jennifer's chair for her. They exited the restaurant and rounded the corner into a semi-deserted, badly lit street. As they did, Jennifer paused for a second. For a moment, she felt as if her legs had threatened to buckle under her weight.

‘Are you all right?' Russell asked, gently holding on to her right arm. There was concern in his voice.

‘Umm…' Jennifer tried to gather herself. ‘Just felt a little bit woozy, all of a sudden.'

‘What, from that single glass of wine you had?'

‘Probably.' She placed her left palm against a dark pickup truck parked just ahead of her and took in a deep breath.

The wooziness didn't go away. In fact, it came back with renewed strength.

Russell reached for the keys in his pocket and unlocked the truck.

Jennifer's eyelids fluttered at him.

‘What… what is happening?'

Russell rotated his head clockwise, then counterclockwise, trying to do away with the tension in his neck muscles. ‘You're falling asleep.'

To Jennifer, his voice sounded different.

He pulled open the truck's back cabin door.

‘I don't und—'

Before she could finish her sentence, Jennifer lost consciousness.

Russell grabbed her to break her fall and very quickly placed her on the back seat.

‘I'll be dipped in shit!' he said to himself with a proud nod. ‘That was just the perfect dosage.'