Work Text:
Marlene frequented the coffee shop near her work often. It was a small place, easily missed amongst the larger and more popular coffee shop chains around the city. Most of the time, she’d stop for a latte, and occasionally she’d snag a muffin. The vibes of the small cafe were cozy. There were comfy couches and small tables with cushioned chairs. The menu wasn’t vast, but it usually had something for everyone’s tastes.
A few months ago, the owners of the cafe set up a few bookshelves with the intention of filling them with novels of all sorts so that patrons could borrow a book while they enjoyed their beverages. With that change, Marlene started stopping by before and after her job just to hang out at the shop. It didn’t take long for her to find a home amongst the regulars, so when someone new entered the cafe one afternoon, it drew Marlene’s attention away from the book she was currently reading.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, we’re out of oat milk.” The clerk informed the newcomer. “Would you like almond instead, or perhaps skim?”
“Oh.” The woman frowned but then nodded. “Oh, that’s ok. Sure, almond sounds good. Thank you.”
When she had her latte in hand, the woman—who had the most striking red hair that Marlene had ever seen—sat in an armchair alongside Marlene’s own. The cafe was busy today, and there weren’t many open seats. The armchairs were spaced a reasonable amount of distance apart, but they were still close enough for Marlene to spy the redhead looking dejectedly at her latte.
“Not a fan of almonds?” Marlene smiled as the other woman looked up.
“Oh, it’s totally fine, really!” The redhead reassured as if she were worried that Marlene was judging her for being disappointed. “Almonds are good, it's just… Well, anyway, it’s fine. Delicious, actually!” She took a small sip and smiled warmly back at Marlene.
“I’m Marlene.” Marlene reached her hand over her armchair.
The other woman looked surprised but reached to shake Marlene’s hand. “I’m Lily. It’s nice to meet you.”
Lily. Somehow, it fit her perfectly.
“Likewise.” When they pulled away, Marlene turned in her chair to better face Lily. “Are you new to the area? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”
Lily nodded, “Yes. My husband and I just moved here for work. I took a teaching position at the local elementary school, and he works in finance.” She talked fast and then seemed to try to slow herself down towards the end of her explanation. Marlene found herself relating, considering she was often accused of talking too fast herself.
“Oh, my wife works at the school as well. She teaches math.” Marlene smiled when Lily’s face lit up excitedly. “Her name is Dorcas. Maybe you’ve met her?”
“Yes! I have actually. She was the one who gave me the tour of campus. She was incredibly kind.” Lily seemed so genuine, and Marlene got the sense that maybe the other woman was here in search of friends.
No one could argue how hard it was to make friends as adults. Dorcas and Marlene didn’t have a large friend group when they first moved to the town either, and they’d struggled to find where they fit in. Now, they had a few friends that would come and go, but one of the main reasons that Marlene frequented this cafe was to hopefully find some like-minded individuals that could potentially turn into a genuine friendship.
“So, why do you prefer oatmilk to almond?” Sometimes, in order to start a friendship, you had to plunge right in and put yourself out there, even if the small talk felt difficult. Even if the only question she could think to ask was something as silly as this.
Lily’s cheeks reddened slightly. “Oh, well you see, I just.. I’m having a bit of a crisis, and I just thought the oatmilk would help.”
Ok, now Marlene’s interest was piqued. What sort of crisis could oatmilk solve? Then again, she’d only just met his woman, would it be rude to ask? Was it too personal?
Marlene settled on a neutral, “Oh?”
Lily seemed to contemplate for a moment before speaking up again. “I found this shop online—Instagram actually—and they were promoting how queer-friendly they were. And, well, I think I've recently discovered that I’m bi? But I’m happily married to a man, and we’re monogamous.” She was talking very fast again, but Marlene was tuned into every word. “I guess I’ve just been feeling like a fake? I wanted to feel validated and maybe find somewhere where I could interact with more queer people. So I found this place, and I wanted to order oatmilk to…” She trailed off, fidgeting and avoiding eye contact.
Marlene laughed, “So that everyone in here would know you’re queer.” She finished for her. Lily looked at her hesitantly, and Marlene realized her mistake in laughing. “Oh no, please, I apologize I’m not laughing at your story. I just couldn’t help it because I felt very much the same not too long ago.”
Lily perked back up, tilting her head in curiosity. “Oh really?”
“Yes, and before I say anything else, you are valid in your feelings and in your queerness.” Marlene winked. “I only dated men through most of my early 20s. Cas was my first relationship with a woman.” She continued. “For so long, I knew that I was queer, but I didn’t know how to express it or talk to women.”
Lily visibly relaxed into her seat, “Wow, I mean- I knew I wasn’t alone, but I saw you and thought that you just looked so confident and friendly and, well that’s not to say that you aren’t, I mean-”
Marlene waved her hand, “I know what you mean. You’re fine.”
“I’m a little embarrassed. I apologize. I tend to overshare, even with strangers.”
“Oh, me too, absolutely. It’s mental illness, innit?” Marlene quoted the older trending TikTok sound.
Lily laughed, and Marlene joined her, happy that the reference hadn’t been lost on the other woman.
And somehow, Marlene knew they’d be friends. Somehow, she knew this brief interaction in the cafe would lead to a long-lasting connection.
“I apologize for talking about myself when you were sharing.” Marlene paused. “I tend to try to relate in that way, but I know that sometimes it comes across wrong.”
“Oh, that’s absolutely fine. I picked up what you were throwing down.” It was Lily’s turn to wink and once again, they both chuckled. “I know it’s probably silly, me feeling this way. I’m so happy with James, but recently, I’ve just felt like there is a part of myself I haven’t been able to express. And I don’t know the best way to express it without actually being in a relationship with a woman.”
“It’s not silly at all. Hey, if oatmilk makes you feel more validated, then whose right is it to judge you?”
Lily smiled softly at Marlene. Soon, they were chatting about every topic under the sun as if they’d been friends forever.
Eventually, Lily had to leave to join her husband for dinner that evening, but they’d exchanged socials, and Marlene left with full heart and a new friend.
Over the next few weeks, Lily and Marlene developed an unintentional routine of meeting at the small cafe every other day.
And as the days went by, they talked, and talked, and talked. As it turned out, Marlene learned that her and Lily had so much in common that you might think they were sisters separated at birth. Not only did they share the same hobbies, but they connected on an emotional level. Lily labeled herself an oversharer early on in their friendship, and Marlene was much the same. They became close quickly because of their ease at discussing difficult things.
But they didn’t always talk about deep things.
“You look like the fourth of July, it makes me want a hot dog real bad.” Marlene said in her loudest and best Jennifer Coolidge impression.
Lily doubled over herself laughing, “How are you actually so good at impressions?”
They’d been at this for hours now at the cafe. Somehow, they’d started talking about celebrities, and eventually the conversation moved onto impressions. Surprisingly, Lily did a great Jim Carrey impression, which caused Marlene to howl with laughter. Now, they were both wiping tears from their eyes.
“Oh, you know another one I like?” Marlene choked out through her giggles.
“No, I don’t know if I can handle it.” Lily gasped, clutching her stomach.
Marlene cleared her throat and began singing Fergie, “Ohhh say does that star-spangled BAN-AY-YER-YER yet wave!?”
“No, stop, I’m still not over that!” Lily elbowed her playfully. “I still can’t believe she did that, didn’t she apologize afterwards too?”
“Yeah, I think she did.” Marlene and Lily’s laughs calmed.
It was interactions like these, the silly ones when they ended up laughing more with each other than talking, that started to heal something within Marlene that she hadn’t even known was broken.
Their conversations were never predictable. Sometimes they talked about heavy themes like shared traumas or the current political climate. Other times they debated on the best flavors of popcorn or how the ending to the book series Divergent was horrible.
“Ok, I have a confession to make,” Marlene said one day when they decided to try a new cafe down the street that had Boba tea. “I was more of a Hunger Games girlie than a Divergent.” She started, “but that’s not the confession. Don’t judge me but I sort of.. Read and wrote an ungodly amount of Hunger Games fanfiction back in the day.”
Lily burst out laughing and then began coughing and exclaiming that she choked on a tapioca pearl. Marlene patted her on the back as she giggled.
“Oh my God, sorry I’m not judging, I’m just laughing because SAME!” Lily used her hand to fan her red cheeks. “Oh, I was a wattpad addict!”
Marlene was constantly amazed at how much they had in common. Her heart soared.
Finding your platonic soulmate in the wild was near impossible, and yet, here they were. Marlene hadn't known there’d been a part of her missing until she met Lily. She’d wanted to make more friends, sure, but Lily was so much more to her now. In the short weeks that they’d been getting to know each other, the time felt inconsequential.
They connected like they’d known each other their whole lives.
Like greeting a childhood friend, that was now your metaphorical sister.
Like finding family.
Marlene wouldn’t trade it for the world.