Silk

by Heidi McLaughlin

  He leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “I’m not trying to be a dick.”

  I want to tell him he’s failing. Instead, I say nothing.

  “Are you going to talk to me?” He turns his head back to look at me.

  I sniff and look up at the ceiling. “Will you stop it with the food stuff?”

  I hear him exhale.

  “I was only joking.”

  Now, I feel bad for making it a big deal. “I’m just sensitive about it. I don’t care what other people do or don’t eat. I don’t understand why it’s a big deal what I do.”

  “Not another word. I promise.”

  I roll to the other side of the bed to get up. “I am hungry.”

  He stands too, turning to face me. He almost smiles. “Let’s see what we can do to fix that.”

  I follow him out of the room, still happy I staked my claim on it.

  Abe is snacking on Skips. He rolls the bag shut and tosses it onto the kitchen counter. “We ready?”

  Adam glances back at me and nods. “What’s good around here?”

  Abe looks at Adam, then me, and then back at Adam. “There’s a pizza place nearby. The pizza is more okay than good, but it’s close. We can walk and go to the pub after.”

  Adam looks at me. “Pizza sound good?”

  I nod and dash back into the room to grab a cross-body purse from my suitcase, and I put my wallet in it. Adam and Abe are waiting for me by the door.

  As we walk to the pizza place, Abe talks animatedly about his new camera or maybe a new lens. The name is a combo of letters and numbers. Adam seems to understand what he’s talking about. He asks to see it later.

  I follow them, noticing Adam still slows his stride, so I don’t have to run to keep up with them. The pizza place is on the corner of the next street.

  We’re quickly seated and order. It isn’t long before we’re served. The promptness of the staff may be the only positive thing about the place. It might be the worst pizza I have ever had. The cheese tastes stale. I’m hungry though, so I manage to finish my slice. I can’t help but notice Adam regarding his slice warily before eating it.

  The pub we go to next is back toward Abe’s flat. It is small, dark, and crowded. I ask for a light ale. I don’t know what the different brands are, other than Guinness, which I already know is too heavy for me. I’m not much of a beer drinker in general. I prefer sweet, fruity, frozen drinks. Those, unfortunately, are not on the menu.

  Adam passes me a glass full of a wheat-colored draft. I take a tentative test sip.

  “You like it?” He watches for my reaction.

  I lick my lips. “Yeah, thanks. What is it?”

  “It’s a Freedom Pilsner.”

  I lift my glass. “To freedom!”

  He presses his lips together, and Abe laughs as we toast. I sip my drink, thinking its name is weirdly fitting for my journey.

  Abe finds us a small table with two chairs. He takes one, and I take the other. Adam stands between us, his hand tilting his glass. I stare at his hand, curious about why he’s doing that. He sets his glass down, and I look up at him. He’s watching me. I break our gaze and take a drink, randomly looking around the bar.

  There’s a guy standing with a group not far from us. He’s handsome in that classic broad-shouldered, strong jaw way. He lifts his glass and smiles at me. I glance back to make sure no one is behind me just to be sure before I smile back. I feel my face get hot as he leaves his friends and walks over to our table.

  “Hi, I’m Nigel,” he says, offering his hand to me.

  Adam’s talking to Abe and misses Nigel’s approach. Adam gives Nigel a confused look, and then Adam sees me smile at Nigel as I shake his hand. Adam rolls his eyes and starts to open his mouth, but I kick him under the table. His eyes flash. He pushes off the table and crosses his arms over his chest, smirking.

  I ignore Adam as best I can. “I’m Aubrey.”

  Nigel smiles. “Are you American?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “On a holiday?” He leans against the table, so he’s between Adam and me.

  Adam is taller than Nigel, and he watches us over his shoulder.

  I tell Nigel that I am, and trying not to be rude, I attempt to introduce Nigel to Adam and Abe. Nigel halfway turns and waves at them before facing me again. I press my lips together to avoid laughing at the expressions on both Adam’s and Abe’s faces.

  “Are you in town for long?”

  I cringe. “Just a couple of days.”

  He leans in, his face close to mine. “Need a tour guide?”

  I can’t help but giggle when Adam’s mouth drops.

  “That’s really nice of you to offer, but I’m all set.” I gesture to Adam and Abe.

  Undeterred, Nigel hands me a business card. “My mobile number is on the back if you change your mind.”

  I watch him walk back over to his friends. When he gets to them, he looks back at me and winks. I play it cool as best I can by nodding, and then I pretend to be really absorbed by the poster on the wall behind Abe.

  “Well, what do you think of that?” Abe asks Adam.

  He shrugs. “You could have said yes to that guy.”

  “I know,” I snap. “Why? You think I thought I needed your permission?”

  He blinks. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Right,” I say before finishing my drink.

  He shakes his head and walks over to the bar to get another round. I gruffly thank him when he returns and passes me my glass.

  “No big deal.” He glances over to where Nigel is standing.

  I wonder if he was talking about Nigel or the drink. “Either way, I can buy the next.”

  He looks over at Abe and then back at me. “We’re probably going to take off after this one. You can buy tomorrow night.”

  “Oh.” I look down at the table and run the pad of my index finger along the ribbed lip of the table.

  “Did you want to stay longer?”

  I shake my head. It makes sense that we are leaving soon. We have a full day of sightseeing planned for tomorrow. I was being silly. It’s just that it’s my first night in London. I’m underwhelmed so far.

  The planning of this trip consumed me for the last several months, so I might have unrealistic expectations of what to expect. It’s probably the time difference. It’s late. It just doesn’t feel late yet. I focus on finishing my drink, and I half listen to Abe talk about his recent trip to Germany.

  Adam and I walk side by side on the way to Abe’s flat. Abe is behind us, having what sounds like an argument with his girlfriend over the phone. He passes Adam his keys and stays downstairs to finish his conversation.

  I grab my bath stuff and go to wash my face and brush my teeth. When I walk back into my room, I jump when I see Adam in there.

  Chapter 10

  “What are you doing in here?” I stammer.

  He’s on his knees by the bed, reaching under. “This bed is a trundle. There’s no way I’m sleeping on that sofa.”

  “But I’m sleeping in here,” I argue.

  I watch as he pulls out the trundle. It’s smaller, maybe twin-sized.

  “Yes, and I’m sleeping here.” He makes a wide sweep with his hands over the smaller bed.

  I remember how awkward it felt, sleeping so near him the night before. At least the trundle is low to the ground.

  My mouth drops as he depresses a lever and raises it to the same height as my bed, and the way it’s made, we’ll be face-to-face with maybe an inch separating his bed from mine.

  I gulp. He turns to look at me.

  “Um, I was going to get changed.”

  “Oh, don’t mind me.”

  “Out,” I order him.

  His eyes travel lazily down me, and I shiver. One corner of his mouth pulls up before he turns to leave, closing the door behind him. I hurry over to it and lock it, sagging against it. I was looking forward to a night away from him. I quickly change
, unlock the door, and climb into bed. I hear the door open, and I shuffle farther under the covers.

  ***

  When I awake the next morning, I’m facing him. Wiping sleep from my eyes, I watch him. He’s shirtless, his sheet draping low across his hips. I lick my lips, mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest. I quietly slip out of bed and out of the room, taking my clothes for the day with me.

  I need distance. I can’t stay in that room any longer. It smells like him—a mixture of Irish Spring, his cologne, and something just him.

  I shower and get dressed. I’m in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for something to snack on, when he walks out. He’s still shirtless. Why can’t he put on a shirt?

  “Hungry?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

  “A bit,” I admit.

  “Give me a minute. I saw a bakery close by.”

  “Okay.”

  He walks back into the room and shuts the door. A couple of minutes later, he walks back out, now in jeans and a vintage looking M*A*S*H T-shirt.

  “Nice shirt.”

  He laughs. “It was my dad’s.”

  “You’re wearing hand-me-downs?” I joke.

  “Just trying to live the green life.”

  I don’t give him the satisfaction of a chuckle even though that was funny as I follow him out of the flat.

  “What about Abe?”

  “He can get his own breakfast,” he says, grabbing a set of keys hanging on a hook by the door.

  I give him a look.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll bring him something back.” He holds the door open for me.

  I tuck my hair behind my ear and hurry down the stairs. I wait for him at the bottom, not sure which direction to go. He comes up beside me, tilting his head to the right. We turn together and walk.

  “I saw you.”

  “Excuse me?” I stop.

  He’s now a step ahead of me. He looks back at me.

  “I saw you watching me this morning.”

  “I wasn’t,” I stammer, looking away.

  “If you say so,” he says as he continues to walk.

  I follow him but stay a step behind on purpose. I can’t believe he saw me. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been so embarrassed. I might never be able to look him in the eyes again. It’s a short walk to the bakery. Adam orders some assorted pastries and two coffees.

  “Do you think Abe would like one too?” I ask as he passes me my cup.

  He shakes his head. “He drinks tea.”

  “Tea?” I picture my grandmother and her floral teapot.

  He shrugs. “It’s a British thing.”

  “Yeah, Boston Tea Party and all that, I suppose.”

  His mouth twitches.

  I try to follow him again, but he slows to walk next to me. I sip my coffee and instead watch the cars pass by. The street Abe lives on is a one-way. I see where he parked the car he picked us up in. The street is so packed that I’m surprised he was able to find a spot so close.

  “See something interesting?”

  My eyes flick to Adam’s and then down. How interesting will I sound when I tell him I was thinking about how Abe got a good parking spot? I shake my head.

  Since Adam’s hands are full, I hold the door for him this time. He rests his foot against the door, tilting his chin toward the stairs. I’m not sure if he’s polite or bossy. The idea of the chivalrous male is sometimes annoying. It sounds good in theory, and if my hands are full, it doesn’t bug me. I let out a puff of air and try to temper my feet from stomping. Once I’m at Abe’s door, I lean against the wall next to it, not offering to help.

  Adam holds the bag with the pastries in his mouth as he reaches in his pocket for the keys. He’s fumbling with them, trying to isolate the right one, when the door opens.

  “Yum.” Abe grins, plucking the bag from Adam’s mouth.

  We crowd around his coffee table. Adam and I both sit on the floor in lieu of the sofa. For being so thin, Abe can destroy a plate of danishes. I pluck another from the bag before they’re all gone.

  Abe goes to get dressed while Adam pulls out a street guide for me to go over our stops for the day. We’re taking the tube to avoid traffic and parking. I want to see all the typical touristy sights—Big Ben, the London Eye, Buckingham Palace, the Globe, Westminster, and King’s Cross.

  Adam has been to London before and to all these places. I wonder if it bothers him as a photographer. Maybe he’d rather be out exploring new places than forced to babysit me.

  “I could just go with Abe if that works better for you.”

  He looks up, his finger hovering over Cambridge. “What makes you say that?”

  “You probably already have pictures of all these places. You probably don’t want to see them again.”

  He scratches the side of his face, right by his ear. He hasn’t shaved today, so he has a healthy day’s worth of stubble on his face. It suits him, giving him a rough air.

  “Sure, I’ve been here before, taken pictures of all these places at one time or another, but that doesn’t mean any shots I take today won’t be better. Besides”—he turns the map and points to a spot not far from where we’ll be—”there is a small bridge here. The light was all wrong last time I was here. I want to stop there.”

  I stare at his finger. The light through the window catches a flake of icing still resting at the top. My mouth goes dry. He must notice it then too. I watch, transfixed, as he lifts his finger to his mouth and sucks. I gulp.

  Needing to get away, I stand and walk into our room. We’ll be leaving soon. I take my plastic box from my suitcase. I have a smaller container I can carry with me. It feels weird, carefully shaking some of her ashes into it.

  I seal both containers tightly. I delicately tuck the bigger one back into my suitcase, and then I place the other in my purse. If I knew Adam wouldn’t walk in, I would probably linger over them longer. Instead, I perch myself on the edge of my bed, facing the window.

  It’s a sunny day. The light streaming in illuminates tiny flicks of dust in its path. I have my cross-body bag slung over me and sitting in my lap.

  “Ally,” I whisper, “I’m in London on our trip. I have you with me. I’m not sure where I’m going to…put you yet. I want it to be somewhere beautiful.” I pull the bag closer to myself. I can feel the outline of the box through the cloth material.

  “I promise, somewhere beautiful.”

  “What were you saying?”

  I jump, seeing Adam in the doorway. I didn’t hear him open the door. I wipe away the moisture stinging the corner of my eye.

  “Nothing. Are we heading out?” I stand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  He nods and steps back, so I can move past him. Abe doesn’t look ready. He’s on the phone, pacing across the living room.

  He holds up a finger and continues to pace, randomly saying, “Brilliant.”

  Adam and I watch him. Abe’s long legs devour the small room. He turns and goes back to where he started. I’m about to sit down when he hangs up.

  His eyes dance as he walks over to clap Adam on the shoulder. “Four tickets to the Arsenal match tomorrow.”

  Adam almost smiles. He looks over at me. “We’re going to a football match tomorrow.”

  I’m confused. “Football?”

  “You blokes call it soccer,” Abe chimes in.

  “Oh, cool.”

  Abe grins. “Very cool.”

  “Four tickets?” I adjust the strap of my purse, so it isn’t rubbing my neck.

  “My girlfriend, Shelly, is coming.” He grabs his wallet off the kitchen counter and slips it into the back pocket of his jeans.

  We take a cab to the station. It’s silly, but I feel a thrill from thinking I’m underneath London right now. We’re quiet for the ride.

  Adam becomes Mr. Tour Guide once we’re above ground. His camera hangs from his neck, half in and half out of its case. It’s slightly overcast, but otherwise, it’s nice out.

>   I feel like I’ve seen all of London by the time we stop for sandwiches. My feet are sore. I cross one leg over another and twist my foot at the ankle. We eat while sitting on benches near a park. Abe is trying to teach me cheers for the football match tomorrow.

  Adam stands, crumbling his wrapper, and he tosses it into a nearby waste bin. “That place where I wanted to shoot is just down that path.” He points. “I’ll be twenty minutes.”

  After thirty minutes, I go after him. His back is to me as I walk up. My skin tingles as I take in the view before me.

  We’re near Cambridge. There’s a small gray stone footbridge. It’s rounded with two arched bends over the water that flows beneath it. A white swan idly paddles by in hopes of finding an errant crust of bread. A group of children play in a grassy area bordered with trees and flowers. It’s a beautiful place.

  It feels so right for Ally to be here. I can feel her presence so strongly. I blink away tears as I imagine her looking out over the water with the noise of playing children around her. She loved kids. It was why she worked in a daycare.

  I lower myself and sit by a lonely tree on the edge of the park. I want to be discreet. With my hands, I push aside some of the mulch gathered at the base of the tree. I tap the container gently, releasing the ashes onto the soil and smooth the mulch back over the ashes before slipping the container back into my purse.

  “I hope you’re happy here, Ally. I feel you with me. It makes me think you like this place.”

  My hand lingers on the spot where a piece of her now rests. I lose myself in the moment—from the birdsong from the trees above me to the breeze that kisses my cheeks. This place smells old but in a good way, like worn leather and old books. It’s not until he speaks that I remember I found this place because I was coming to look for Adam.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, walking over to me.

  I squint up at him. The sun has come out. “I came looking for you, and it is so pretty here that I thought I’d take a moment and enjoy it.”

  “Can I take your picture?”

  I groan. “I’m not photogenic.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he argues.

  My breath catches. I rest my hand back on the spot where Ally is, and I nod. He glances behind himself before taking a few steps back.