Part 2 (2/2)
For a while we sat there speaking more of our feelings, though everything that really needed to be said was already said. Everything after that point was just talking about our emotions. Nothing could have been changed. Minds were made up, hearts were broken, then mended, feelings were hurt and healed again. The true strength of the human spirit is the resilience that it gets with change. We can adapt to so much and adjust so quickly to our surroundings. Eventually, when I couldn't take any more, I told her that I had to go. It took a few more minutes for me to make it down to the door, complete with the devil dog staring me down as usual. When I opened the door, ready for my escape, she scrounged up what few words she could and said, ”So what if I had said yes? Where would we be now?”
”Probably happily planning a wedding,” I said as I walked out the door just in time to make it to my date.
Chapter 6.
Igot to the restaurant a few minutes early thanks to the 'T' and the chilly air. People from other parts of the country think that Northeasterners are always rushed, but really we're just cold. Those southern Californians have it easy, and so of course they mill around in the constant perfect seventy degree weather with a soft ocean breeze, walking inland as fast as they would be walking beach-bound. We hate them every second we hear them complain about a day of rain and are dumbfounded at their ignorance of what everyone else endures.
I took a seat at the bar and decided a drink would do me good. ”Jack on the rocks please.” I said in a grateful voice. ”To love,” I said quietly to myself raising my gla.s.s to an invisible crowd, though I'm pretty sure the guy next to me raised his gla.s.s as I said it. A world full of broken hearts, I thought. That's all this is. I wondered, as I sipped my drink, if there was anyone above the age of say, 18, in the world who hadn't had their hearts broken at some point. I thought about the statistical probabilities and realized that the percentages favored the broken hearted and I felt my spine curl forward a little into a slump. The only truly universal feeling, I thought. Maybe it's not love that unites the world, but rather it's broken hearts.
I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder and a whisper in my ear. ”Hey.” My barstool swung around to greet the voice. But it was more than just a voice. It took me a moment to muster up a simple 'hey' back. My G.o.d she looked unbelievable. There must be some secret ritual where they teach girls how to really dress up for something. Girls you'd see at regular times that didn't do much for you would suddenly be G.o.ddesses from a change in makeup, cut of a top, length of a skirt, or curl of a hair. Each girl must have had a private lesson on the art of alluring a boy at some point before the 8th grade. Nicole must have certainly taken diligent notes at her lesson. I forgot everything I learned about talking to girls, but managed enough small talk to not seem like an idiot.
I downed the rest of my drink and we made our way to the hostess, telling her that our party had arrived, and we were shown to our seats. I had been there once before with Allison, though it was something I tried not to think about so as to not ruin any positive feelings. Allison and I had gone there the first week we dated in college. It's one of the few restaurants I've seen that is both romantic and pretty cheap. It became a mainstay for college kids wanting to impress, but not wanting to break the bank. It was where I first learned most of Allison's history: how she was studying to be a physical therapist, the dog that she couldn't wait to move up to Boston when she got out of the dorms, her childhood and family life. It's amazing how much you can find out about a person at one dinner.
Nicole and I were seated at a table in a remote corner of the restaurant that was made for a new couple. The speakers were close enough to be able to recognize the songs, but far enough away that we could speak at a normal volume without strain. The worst place to be with someone you want to learn about is where you have to yell to be heard.
We ordered a bottle of wine, picking a Pinot Grigio that stood out, hoping for the best. I certainly wasn't a huge wine drinker and she said she wasn't really either, but it seemed like the best thing to trysomething cold and refres.h.i.+ngly fruity. After the Jack and a gla.s.s of wine I finally felt like I had loosened up a bit. ”How was cla.s.s today?” I asked.
”It was alrightnothing too exciting. How was the rest of your day?”
”About the same,” I said with a smile, ”until now.” I love making girls blush. ”Have you been here before?”
”No, but I've always wanted to. A friend of mine told me that I have to try their duck confit.”
”Their what?” My face probably asked it better.
”It's a duck leg. See,” she pointed across the table at my menu, ”they have it as an appetizer or as an entree with risotto.”
”You can even order it with the macaroni and cheese.”
”I know what I'm getting,” she said with a quiet clap of her hands.
”Well I guess I'll have to try it with the risotto, unless you're willing to let me try some of yours.”
”No way! Get your own.” She said with playful force.
The lingering thoughts of Allison had just about been masked by the time we ordered our entrees.
A quick look around could tell you that this was not the kind of place where meaningless chatter took place. Everyone there was either in love or on the path to it. I wondered if this was too much. It was only two days ago that Allison had rejected me and only an hour since we last spoke having left things in a limbowhere our thoughts and feelings could roam freely like animals liberated from long captivity.
I drifted in and out of the moment, not out of boredom but rather a hopeless longing for something positive to feel. For the most part I just let her talk. The sound of her voice was a refres.h.i.+ng reprieve from what I was used to. When you near the end of a relations.h.i.+p, anything that your partner says can be construed as negative, bringing a gloomy sky over the both of you that can't blow over. Nicole's voice circled me like a coven of witches, casting a spell on me that would last as long as she wished. There was no end to her spell as I watched her lips form words I could hear but didn't pay attention to. It wasn't that I didn't care about what she was saying, but that watching her lips form the words was enough for me. What other meaning or purpose could there be other than the simple beauty of their creation.
By the time our main course arrived, we were on our second bottle of wine and absurdly hungry. ”I think it's your turn for a toast.” I announced confident in my wording. She sat for a moment rummaging around her head for just the right words to say. I sat patiently awaiting whatever poetry she came up with.
”To Josh, may his life work itself out in a way that allows me to find my place in his story.”
I felt my head melt down into my chest. She started to speak as if to apologize, but I gently raised a hand to stop her and said ”I could only wish for such a story in my dreams.”
Reality TV would have paid handsomely to get a moment like the one we just had on tape. We just stared at each other for a good minute, almost daring each other to be the first to look away. We sat there trapped between worlds we were leaving and worlds we were about to walk into. Nicole had her baggagefrom a trip that lasted too long on a flight that didn't even serve peanuts or soda. I had my own baggage that I hadn't checked at the counter yet. We were both there waiting at the gate for a flight that had been delayed for years and wondered when it might take off.
While we s.h.i.+fted around in our chairs in preparation to finally eat, I stopped looked down at my plate with bewilderment. ”What is it?” Nicole asked. I picked up my duck leg as if it were a sword being unsheathed and held it en guarde towards Nicole. After a short hesitation, she did the same and we laughed.
”Well, you certainly have me trying new things,” I said as the laughter started to slow.
”Hopefully there will be many new things for us.”
The conversation kept going with another bottle of wine as we took turns eating and talking, stopping occasionally here and there for an extra bite or two.
We debated a third bottle of wine or perhaps a tiramisu, but decided to head out into the world as our dessert. The lights of Boston at night were enough to fill any appet.i.te left over after a meal. The check came and went before I even noticed how much the meal was, but I really didn't care. So I lost my job and have no actual income, who cares? A quick, slight bow from the waiter and we were off.
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