“We can get that,” I said to him.
He had a clean-cut face, nice hair, and the collar of his button-down shirt stuck out of the expensive sweater he wore.
“I don’t mind helping,” he said. “We made a mess.”
“You were supposed to,” I said. “You’re going to miss your ride.”
“Not me,” he said. “I’ll meet up with them in a few. Lots of stories and memories to go through.”
“That’s not always bad,” I said.
“Here, this is for you,” he said and handed me the small leather folder. “Everything in there is yours. Have a good night.”
Just like that, Ed was gone.
I walked to one of the registers and was met by Carla.
Her bouncy ponytail and bright red lips made her a fan favorite at the restaurant.
“That guy was hot. And he was talking to you.”
“He paid his bill, Carla.”
“He lingered,” she said. “He wanted you to do the same.”
“What?”
“Oh, could you imagine? That kind of guy dragging you into the bathroom. You ripping those fancy and nice clothes of his out of his pants so your hand could get to his-”
“Maybe you should go catch up with him then,” I cut in as I tapped the screen.
“Maybe I will,” she said. “FYI, you have another table that just walked in. Total opposite of the fancy guy.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“This one is filthy looking. But in a really sexy way. I’d ride him until-”
“You're worked up tonight,” I said without looking at her.
I walked away.
I wasn’t in the mood for mindless sex banter with Carla. Sometimes it was fun. Most of the time it was annoying. And all of the time she would go too far. She had a fantasy of picking up married men while their wives were in the bathroom.
I wiped my hands on my black apron and took a deep breath as I walked through the wide-open dining room.
My next table was in the back corner. The place where people sit who didn’t want to be seen. It was never anyone good though.
Until tonight.
When I saw Josh, I froze and gasped.
I thought about smiling.
But then I saw a woman sitting across from him.
Chapter 15
How Many Times?
NOW
(Josh)
She swore it was just business.
That was the hardest part of dealing with Michelle.
She was like me and talking to her about pictures and paintings wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I normally saved those conversations for Azor, but he was usually drunk or trying to pick up a woman.
Michelle was one of the first people to really believe in me and push me. She was there during a few dark times in my life. She understood certain aspects that even Azor couldn’t understand. We knew the moment we kissed it was a bad idea, but we didn’t stop. I didn’t stop. She didn’t hesitate.
The agreement was something like friends with benefits, but it was more or less me getting wasted on my artwork and needing comfort. And in her eyes, she wanted the comfort that crossed the line into something else.
Now I sat across from her at the restaurant Amelia worked at.
The worst part was that it didn’t hit me until I saw Amelia.
My mind hadn’t been completely put together as some new ideas had been swirling around. Those ideas were based on memories that I wanted to leave behind. For good. The only way I could justify it was to drink myself stupid and pass out.
If I attempted to draw. Or paint. Or even take a damn picture… it was words. Words that made up a letter. A letter that revealed the truth of my heart.
And it was gone.
The letter.
Maybe even my heart.
Or so I thought… until I saw Amelia.
She wanted my story.
But I wondered if she knew how much of a role she played in my story.
“I’m going to use the restroom,” Michelle said.
“I’ll be here.”
“You sure about that?”
“What does that mean?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time you left in the middle of a date.”
I quickly reached across the table and took Michelle’s wrist. “Hey. This isn’t a date. We’re not dating.”
“Just fucking.”
“No. I mean… not this week.”
“Not this week?” Michelle asked with a laugh. “You really are an asshole sometimes, Josh.”
“Honestly. I don’t want anyone confused or hurt.”
“I just want to go pee,” she said.
I let her wrist go. “Sorry.”
She slipped out of the booth and disappeared through the restaurant.
I sighed and rubbed my jaw.
I wanted to get out of my flat. To get some air. Get real food. Michelle had called to congratulate me on the success of my event the other night. Everyone loved what I had done. Sasha had been spreading the word about it. People talked about how mysterious I was.
The more people talked, the bigger my story seemed to become.
Even though it was all bullshit.
There was only one person who came close to the real Josh.
“Can I get you anything else?” Amelia asked as she surprised me by standing at the table.
“Hey,” I said. “I barely got to talk to you.”
“I’m working,” she said. “And you’re…”
“She’s a friend.”
“I don’t really care.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I never said you had to, Amelia. Just letting you know…”
“Do you need anything else?” she asked. “I’m not going to stand here and make small talk.”
“So, you don’t want that story about me, huh? Or from me? Did you ever finish writing that thing about me?”
“No,” she said. “I’m over it. There really wasn’t much of a story there to begin with.”
Amelia was acting jealous.
She played with her fingernails and tried to keep a mean look on her face.
“So, when do I get to read one of your animal stories?” I asked.
“Hopefully never,” she said.
Michelle came back to the table and Amelia hurried away.
I was pissed off.
I wasn’t sure why though.
“Have you thought about what’s next?” Michelle asked as my eyes slowly scanned the restaurant, looking for Amelia.
“What?” I asked.
“What’s next? You know Sasha will give you her gallery anytime you want it. That’s an amazing thing.”
“Yeah, it’s something,” I said.
“Something? You know how many people would kill for that? You have made yourself into this giant mystery, Josh. Everyone wants to see your artwork. Everyone wanted to try and catch a glimpse of you. You show everything about yourself through your artwork, yet nobody knows a thing about you. I don’t even know that much about you…”
“Yes, you do,” I said.
“No, I don’t. Think about what we do, Josh. We talk about art. We drink. Then we…”
“I know,” I said. I rubbed my jaw again. “That’s good enough, right?”
“Is it?”
“For me, it is.”
“Okay. Then it’s the same for me.”
I leaned forward. “Why don’t you have someone in your life, Michelle? A boyfriend? Someone to take care of you?”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
I didn’t answer as I pulled myself from the booth.
I charged through the restaurant like I owned the place. I didn’t care who was sitting where or why or what Amelia was supposed to be doing.
The entrance to the kitchen was tucked off to the right side.
That’s where I went.
> I spotted her. Not coming from the kitchen, but behind a small counter where there was a computer screen.
She stood there, punching at it with her pointer finger.
The glow of the screen on her face made me grin.
I blinked as though I were taking a picture of her. Every line of her face. The shape of her silhouette. Her hair. Her nose. Those lips.
When she turned and saw me, she started to shake her head.
“I’m not moving,” I said.
That at least got her to come after me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“About why you’re jealous of me being with another woman.”
“Jealous? Hardly. I’m doing my job right now, Josh. Just because I was supposed to write a story about you doesn’t mean I’m at your mercy.”
“At my mercy?” I asked. “Those are some intense words, love.”
“Please,” she said. “Go back to your date. I have a bunch of tables to take care of.”
Without hesitation, I slipped my hand into hers and stepped back, pulling at her.
“Josh,” she growled.
“Come here, love,” I said. “For a second.”
She shook my hold away and followed me as I moved back toward the restrooms.
We were hidden, not that I really cared about that.
“I meant what I told you,” I said to her. “I’m not on a date. Not that it should matter.”
“It doesn’t matter, okay?”
“What do you want to know about me, Amelia?” I asked. “Everyone wants this story from me. I don’t get it. There is no story. I do what I do.”
“What everyone else wants and what I want are two different things,” she said.
“Meaning?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Amelia walked backward, her blue eyes trying to destroy me.
“I’m still waiting to read one of your stories first,” I said.
“Tell me where to send one then,” she said.
She was beautiful.
Intense.
She was the same kind of trouble as before.
“Will you tell me what you think of these?” Michelle asked.
She brought out a small, black folder and opened it. Inside were black and white sketches she had been working on. The thing with Michelle was that she was more talented than she knew. She second guessed herself. She never thought she was good enough. And sometimes she tried to do too much.
I flipped through the sketches.
Some were okay.
There was one of a bed and a man under the covers.
I told myself it wasn’t me.
But I knew better.
My eyes looked at Michelle’s.
She had that look to her.
I had messed things up real badly with her.
After looking at them all, I pulled out the best five.
“Right here,” I said. “These. Just like this though.”
“Sketches? Come on, Josh.”
“I’m telling you. These are good like this. The rawness matters.”
“What about the others?”
“Fuck the others. I’m showing you these. Go with it.”
“You think?”
“I know so.”
“Josh, there’s something else.”
“Another drawing?”
“No. A job offer.”
“A job? You?”
“Listen,” Michelle said. “It’s work. It’s something consistent. But it’s across the country.”
“So, what’s the hesitation?”
“You,” she said.
“Me?” I asked. “No. You can’t say that. Or do that.”
“Do what?”
“There is no… me. You. You and me. Me and you. All that. I’m sorry, Michelle. I really fucked everything up. You were there for me. Even though you don’t know why. But I made it clear what it meant. Or didn’t mean.”
“I know you did,” she said. “I just… I don’t get your heart.”
“Neither do I,” I said.
I spotted Amelia walking through the restaurant again.
Something hit me in the gut, and I pulled myself out of the booth for a second time.
“What are you doing?” Michelle asked.
“Fixing something.”
Amelia came out of the kitchen and jumped when she saw me standing there.
“Again?” she asked.
Her curly hair was sweaty, half matted down, other pieces sticking out everywhere. Her black shirt and black pants worked wonders on a body that I never remembered her having.
“Need you for a minute,” I said.
“Josh…”
“No,” I said.
Amelia sighed and ran a hand over her hair.
She shook her head and moved toward me.
I stepped back again into the dimly lit hallway to the restrooms.
“What are you trying to do to me tonight?” Amelia asked. “I’m trying to work, Josh. I don’t care why you’re here. Or who you’re here with. I have a job. This is my only job, okay? So, whatever you’re-”
My hands touched her waist and pulled her even closer. She let out a little yelp sound and her hands touched my chest. Her eyes became really wide.
It had been such a long time.
Such a long fucking time.
I kissed her.
My lips pressed to hers, long enough to kill some time, but not too long that the kiss would have become hotter.
I pulled away and reached into my pocket.
I had written something on a napkin for her.
“Whenever you’re ready, love,” I whispered into her ear and pressed the piece of napkin into the palm of her hand.
It was the address of where I lived.
If Amelia wanted a story, she’d have to come and get it from me.
Chapter 16
A Meeting III
A LITTLE WHILE AGO
(Josh)
“You can tell me anything, Josh.”
“That’s the most cliché thing I’ve ever heard,” I said as I sat in my usual spot right on the edge of the couch.
“I got you to talk.”
“Yes, you did.”
“You went through a lot in a short period of time. At an age that was hard to begin with.”
“And your point?”
“A lot of that tends to just sit inside of us. You don’t think about it much. Or sometimes you do. But it just sits there. I kind of think of it as a sickness going dormant. Right? You feel okay. You act okay. But then things just aren’t okay. Does that make sense?”
“What makes sense is that you want to rip open the book of my life and flip through those pages as much as you can,” I said. “You want to dig and find and come up with something that’s going to make you feel good and somehow make me feel good.”
“Isn’t that what you want? To feel good?”
“I never once said that. You know exactly why I’m here.”
“Yes, I do. So, let’s start there, Josh. Talk about that night.”
“That night,” I said, making air quotes. “That’s what everyone calls it. That night.”
“What would you like to call it?”
“You know, I’ve had a lot of nights that could be called that night.”
“So, do you want to pick which night is that night to you then?”
I stared and slowly shook my head. “So that’s what you do? I say something and you peel it apart?”
“I try to find the deeper meaning, Josh.”
“Of what?”
“Who you are. The actions you take. The decisions you make. See, from my perspective, it’s easy to judge. That’s what a lot of people do, right? I don’t look at that situation the way others do. I look at each step to the decision and find out what happened. And better yet, figure out what I can do to help you make sure that it do
esn’t happen again.”
“Nobody got hurt,” I said.
“This time.”
I laughed. “It wasn’t…” I shut my eyes. “I’ve said a lot about her already. Sometimes I can still hear her. Okay?”
“Did you hear her that night?”
“What if I did?”
“What if you did?”
“Are you going to mark it down that I’m fucking crazy?”
“No.”
“Yeah. Okay. I heard her. I heard her voice. And I was drinking. I mean… a lot. I was as drunk as I had ever been in my life.”
“You blacked out.”
“Exactly. Yet I remember hearing her voice.”
“That’s it?”
“Is there anything else that matters? Everything revolves around her. Everything. My entire existence. Life. What I’ve created. What I will create. There’s no way around it. She is everything.”
“But she’s not here, Josh. Maybe she was-”
“I don’t give a shit what you have to say.” I stood up. “You write your notes. I tell my stories. Life goes on. Whatever I do or don’t do is my business. Not yours.”
“I just want to understand. Probably as much as you do.”
“What don’t I understand?” I asked, my lip curling.
“Why you can’t find your peace with it.”
I was silent.
“Josh?”
I stayed silent.
“Josh… what are you thinking right now?”
Peace.
Peace with it.
How the hell could I ever have peace with it?
I was the one who watched her die.
Chapter 17
Closer to Read
NOW
(Amelia)
I was happy at the small, round kitchen table with my morning coffee which I had served to myself a little after noon. My right elbow on the table, fist to chin, staring at the apartment door or down into the cup of coffee.
My thoughts bouncing all around like a bouncy ball thrown down a street.
“What do you think of this one?”
A Letter to Delilah Page 9
