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 theurge 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 shewasthe 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 satbehind 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.
