JEN'S HEART WAS NERVOUSLY FLUTTERING in her chest as she left the school building for the day. The most sane thing to do probably would have been to go straight home and make herself a cup of tea to soothe her troubled mind, but instead she made a beeline for the nearest source of caffeine.

It wasn't actually a good cup of joe that she was seeking out, but she'd surely find that where she was going—she was off to see her friend Celie who managed a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that was only a block or so away from St. Catherine's. With the sun hanging low in the sky and a cover of clouds rolling in, the air was even more bitterly cold than it had been when she was heading to work this morning, yet the streets were humming with even more activity now than they were then. The dim glow of the familiar little neon sign labeled Spill the Beans drew Jen in like a lighthouse guiding a ship to shore.

To most people, it was nothing more than an unassuming coffee shop on a busy street corner. But to her, this place was a haven, an everlasting promise of warmth and laughter no matter how friendly or cruel the outside world was being to her on any given day.

She was a regular apparition here, making an appearance once every week or so to catch up with Celie. Aside from when they saw each other at their monthly book club, this was the most convenient way to meet up—Celie got the luxury of not having to go anywhere outside of her regular orbit to see Jen and Jen got the luxury of having a free cup of coffee handed to her by her gracious friend.

She was greeted by the sound of chatter as she opened the door. Spill the Beans was surprisingly busy considering that most people weren't off work for the day quite yet, but she liked it this way. Not just because money going into her friend's pocket was worth celebrating, although that was certainly true, but because throwing herself into a room buzzing with conversation made her feel like she was part of something bigger, like she was a little less lonely. A community of strangers taking joy in something as simple as a drink would never be such a bad thing.

Or perhaps it was simply impossible not to feel cozy in here. The smell of fresh espresso floated through the air, golden lights bathed the space in a peaceful glow, and plush sofas replaced boring metal chairs. The names of the specialty drinks made Jen smile without fail, for it was painfully obvious that a lover of literature had named them—her personal favorites were "To Bean or Not to Bean" and "The Count of Macchiato."

The girls saw each other at nearly the same moment – a more impressive feat on Celie's end considering that her head of curly hair made her fairly easy to spot in a crowd whereas Jen had a tendency to blend in like a chameleon. The former mouthed give me five minutes to her from behind the counter; she nodded and gravitated to their usual spot in the corner.

She carefully lowered herself onto the couch so that the faded leather wouldn't squeak too loudly under her weight. Due to many years of being well-loved, the fabric molded to her shape easily. She sank back against the cushions and tried to banish the memories that wanted to emerge from the corners of her mind, but she had a dreadful feeling that they were only going to become more and more difficult to cast away with each day that passed at this job. She said a silent prayer asking that she'd be proven wrong.

Only a couple of minutes passed before Celie glided over with one hand wrapped around the handle of a ceramic mug that was filled precariously close to the brim. Her hair was slightly frizzy and her apron had a couple of coffee stains on it from helping her baristas during this rush, but the smile on her lips told the world that she loved this messy job of hers even when it wore on her physically.

Her eyes, the same color as the liquid in the cup – made with one cream and one sugar, just the way Jen liked it – sparkled with curiosity as she sat down across from her and passed her the mug.

"How was it?" Celie asked as Jen took the first sip.

The familiar taste of the coffee and the warm sensation of it trickling down her throat calmed her even though its effect probably should have been to do quite the opposite.

"Good," she shrugged, setting the mug down.

Celie knew a lot of things. Jen, having felt a need to get it off her chest, confided in her a while ago about the sequence of events that began five years ago and led to her world imploding on itself. But she hadn't named names, so when the principal and vice principal of St. Catherine's came into Spill the Beans one morning and Celie overheard them chatting about a temporary job opening that she thought Jen would be perfect for, she was wholly naive to the fact that she was sending her straight into the arms of a woman she had history with. She couldn't bring herself to admit any of this to Celie now—it would only make her feel guilty even though the decision to actually accept the job was Jen's and Jen's alone.

"Not too boring?"

"Not too boring," Jen echoed. "I mean, it's not exactly my dream job, but at least my desk chair is comfortable."

The other girl let out a soft sigh. "You'll get there someday. I know you will."

"I hope so." Another sip of coffee. "But most days it feels like I'm never gonna raise enough money to get a master's."

"It'll be worth it when you get there," Celie encouraged, her smile widening. "You can give all those men the middle finger and say I told you so. Your dad being the first."

"You know it's not like that," Jenny chided, although the thought almost made her laugh. "He doesn't think I can't do it, he just doesn't think I should, and I honestly can't blame him for wishing I did something easier so that I'd have a better job by now."

"But you can't control what you're passionate about. It's not his job to tell you what your dream should be."

The two girls dreamed so big, just in different ways. Celie was totally happy with this existence she built for herself at this coffee shop. She'd been working here since she was sixteen, a manager since she was nineteen, and completely took over day-to-day operations a couple of years ago when the owner stepped back to go into semi-retirement. She never went to college—Jude, five years her senior, enjoyed his experience in school but told her she didn't need to go if the job she wanted was already right there in front of her. She didn't have a jealous bone in her body. She loved cheering on her friends, telling them to shoot for the stars, and fantasizing with them about what it'd be like when they finally got there.

Jen had her own dream and was chasing it so fiercely, but it was hard to kindle a passion as untainted as Celie's when something as uncontrollable as the mere fact that she was a woman was always getting in her way. All those boys she graduated with found jobs easily. Meanwhile, she was awarded fewer opportunities by her professors and the one entryway she saw to getting a job handed her a scandal instead of a contract.

The sound of the door opening caught her attention. A mother pushing a stroller stepped inside and walked up to the counter to order. The baby was absolutely adorable, clad in a teeny tiny puffer coat and beanie to fend off the cold. Jen couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to be a mom.

She turned back to Celie and quietly mused, "You know you're getting old when you see a baby and think you want one."

"Twenty-four is hardly old," Celie grinned. "And your hair isn't going to go gray when you turn twenty-five in a month, either."

As she quietly sipped her coffee, Jen got a little lost in daydreaming and the dark thoughts that had invaded her mind were gradually being pushed out by more hopeful visions for the future. Maybe what they showed her really was the life she wanted or maybe it was just a mechanism for coping with her current disillusionment, but she embraced it nonetheless.

"If I ever have a daughter, I never want her to think that she can't do what she wants to because she's a girl," she murmured, her fingers lightly tapping on the smooth cup that carried a comforting warmth to her skin. "I'd tell her she could be a doctor or an astronaut or an engineer or an actress or anything else she sets her mind to."

"And we both know you'd fight your husband if his opinion got in the way."

Jen wrinkled her nose. "I would never marry someone who wanted to get in her way in the first place. I want someone who'd have even bigger dreams for her than I would. Who'd want her to go miles above and beyond what either of us ever does."

Celie raised her eyebrows. "If you ever find a man like that, please let me know. I went on another date this weekend and it was...something."

"What?" Jen leaned forward in her seat. "And you're just now mentioning it?"

"Your job is way more important," Celie waved her off. "But yeah, we went to Rita's and it was nice at first, but then he was talking about how he wants to have a family someday."

Jen paused, perplexed. "...On the first date?"

"Yes," Celie lamented. "Even worse, he said his goal is to make enough money that his future kid could have a stay-at-home mom. I got out of there as fast as I could without being too conspicuous about it. Who knows if I'll ever have kids, but he's funny if he thinks I'd ever give up this place completely."

Jen slumped back against the cushions. Conversations like these planted an uncomfortable tension in her stomach.

She wanted kids someday. She really did. But she was equally terrified of starting a family and looking like she was giving in to what other people expected her to do with her life. She didn't want to feed into a stereotype. The fact that she felt like she could enjoy cooking and cleaning and making school runs in moderation didn't mean that she would take joy in dedicating all her hours to doing those things alone. The dilemma was already infuriating to grapple with and she wasn't even dating anyone, much less married.

"Why do you always have to be either a career woman or a stay-at-home mom?" she sighed under her breath so that no one besides Celie would hear. "Why not some of both? Is it really that hard? Why do men get to be passionate about both but women have to pick just one?"

Celie thought about this for a moment, but when she came up with nothing, she lightheartedly suggested, "Maybe we should pick a religion that likes women better."

Jen couldn't help but allow herself to laugh a little bit at that, but she shook her head. "Is the problem really the religion itself or the men within it?"

Celie presented an even better hypothesis–

"Or is it the fact that they'd say those two are one and the same?"

Jen flung off her clunky boots the second she was through the front door and the warmth of the indoors engulfed her in the same way a parent's hug wraps up a small child. Her little apartment unit, tucked into the bottom level of a greystone, was anything but impressive, but she always tried to keep her eyes set on the fact that she had everything she needed rather than that it was all old and tiny.

Her first thought was to take a bath to warm herself up and relax after her long day, but as her eyes absentmindedly scanned across the room, they landed on the phone hanging on the wall. Deciding that she ought to give her dad a call, she walked over and punched in the number to his hardware store. The only days you wouldn't find him there working late were holidays.

After a few rings, he finally picked up. She could hear the commotion of the store in the background and already felt bad for inconveniencing him, but he was always busy either with work or with Mom, so Jen just had to take whatever brief opportunities she could get to talk to him between her visits.

"Hi, Dad."

He distractedly asked, "Did you need something?"

"No, I was just calling..." she said quietly, but she knew that she was going to have to speak up if he was going to hear her over the noise on his end. She cleared her throat slightly. "I, um, I started my job today, so I can try to send more money for-"

"Oh, right. That was today."

Jen could hear the disapproval concealed behind each of his words. If she could have it her way, she would have just gotten through her few months at this job without telling him who she was working for, but she feared that the news would somehow get out to him another way. Should that happen, she didn't think she could handle the inevitability of him snapping back to that angry, resentful person he was starting to recover from being, so she'd made the tough choice to tell him upfront. He wasn't exactly thrilled.

"Yeah, it was," she said.

He was waiting for her to get to the point. "Well, how was she?"

"She was fine," Jen appeased him despite her own discomfort at the situation. She would overcome it in time. She would. She knew she would. She had to. "We barely talked."

"Good."

"I know it's not ideal, Dad," she tacked on gently. "I'm just...I'm trying to make it work. How's Mom?"

"The usual," was all he said.

She could hear the sound of a cash register opening and closing in the background. Jen softly sighed, wishing that he could give her anything more than that but aware that he was too preoccupied to do so. She'd just have to drive up there sometime soon.

"I guess I'll let you go." The sound of indistinguishable chatter, of a receipt printing. "Tell her I said hi."

"I will."

"Bye, D-"

The call cut off.

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A/N:

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! How are we feeling about Celie?