I was on the corner of East 42nd Street and 2nd Avenue at two thirty in the morning. If I walked one block east I would be at the United Nations. It was an interesting prospect but I decided to consider my options. One block east and one block south would put me at the mouth of the Queens tunnel. I thought about Queens. Folding my arms, I backed up against a light pole, feeling wretched and small. What a piece of shit Robert was for letting me out of the car in midtown at that hour. I watched motionless as three taxis zipped by me. Everything around me started moving in hyper speed. I was standing on the sidewalk, perfectly still, staring at the constant red blur of taillights. The signal on the pole above me was changing from green to yellow to red in supersonic speed, so fast that it became one color.
The tall buildings made me feel like an insignificant shadow on the sidewalk. I could have melted into nothingness and it wouldn’t have mattered. In my daze I wondered if I was more perplexed by the fact that my relationship with Robert was over or if my desire to defend Will so passionately was a sign of deeper feelings. An hour must have gone by before my shivering snapped me out of my trance. I stepped off the curb and positioned my body in front of oncoming traffic. The first car to approach was a taxi, thankfully. When it came to a screeching halt, I hopped in and shouted, “Ave A and St. Mark’s!”
“Lady, you could have killed yourself,” the cabbie shouted back to me.
“Yes! That’s still an option!” God, I was losing it. The cabbie shook his head and floored the gas. It was there in the safety of the cab that I really went off the deep end. I sobbed uncontrollably all the way back to my apartment. When we pulled in front of the building, I tried ineffectively to collect myself.
“Lady, are you ok?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. Can I just have a moment please?”
He gave me a compassionate nod in the rearview mirror and then turned off the meter. When I had no more tears to cry, I pulled myself together and paid the fare and then repeatedly thanked the cabbie until he finally told me he had to go.
The apartment was quiet and dark except for the hallway light. I asked the universe for a small, selfish favor. When I got to Will’s doorway, I peered into the dark room. The universe did not grant my wish, there were two bodies sleeping in Will’s bed. With Will lying on his side closest to the door, I couldn’t see whom he was spooning. A glutton for punishment, I moved in closer. My heart instantly liquefied when I saw that Will was cuddled up to Jackson, who was under the covers with his head on the pillow like a person. I took a mental photograph of the scene and then turned to walk out when Will grabbed my wrist.
“Hey, sweet thing. What’s wrong?” he whispered squinting his eyes.
“Nothing, go back to sleep.”
“Do you want Jackson with you?”
“No, he’s fine. I’ll see you in the morning.” He let go and turned back toward Jackson.
I woke up three hours later on top of my covers, still wearing the shift dress. My head was throbbing and it intensified when I thought about what had happened in the cab the night before. Robert didn’t give a rat’s ass about me; I decided the breakup was for the best. The clock read seven thirty and I’d told Martha I would be at Kell’s by eight. I rolled off my bed and onto the floor and then practically crawled all the way to the bathroom. After a few minutes of hot water beating down on my face, I heard the bathroom door open. Through the frosted shower curtain I saw Will’s figure come in and lean against the counter.
“What are you doing?” I shouted as I covered my body with my hands.
“I can’t see you, there’s a shower curtain,” he said, chuckling.
“Oh, you can see enough.”
“Well, I’m not looking. I just wanted to talk to you.”
I watched him cross his feet at the ankles and lean back, arms folded and his head down. He was making an attempt at some belated manners.
“What’s up, Will?”
“Are you okay? You seemed upset last night when you came in. Did something happen with Robert?” I sensed vague hope in his voice.
“No. I just felt like sleeping in my own bed. I’m sorry I woke you.”
He hesitated for a long beat before speaking “Okay… no worries. I’m going to work early… I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Will.” Once he was out of earshot I cursed myself. Why didn’t I tell him the truth? Why was I being so fickle?
Over the next two weeks, I dove into the café workings. Martha and I sat down one evening and went over every line in the accounting books. The café was making a profit, albeit a small one, but enough to keep it open. We talked about the espresso machine that everyone referred to as the monster. On top of the fact that the milk steamer was slower than molasses, the machine sounded like the Tunguska Meteor falling to earth.
I showed Martha some pictures of the newfangled machines and suggested we get one; she looked moderately disappointed. I figured the old machine held some kind of nostalgic significance to her.
“It will save us so much time,” I pleaded.
“Does it make better espresso?”
“Probably not. I don’t know what to do. I’m just trying to think of ways to improve the business.” I waited for her to beg me to keep the old machine, but I knew Martha well enough to know that she would be creative about it.
“Mia, you have to ask yourself, what would J.C. do?” She arched her eyebrows and waited for my response.
“About the espresso machine?” I asked with a puzzled look.