He just laughed and pointed forward. “C’mon, let me buy you dinner. On second thought, I’ll bet you’ve got a trust fund somewhere. I’ll let you buy me dinner,” he joked and I instantly liked him.
I pulled up to a diner I’d found and we went inside, choosing a corner booth away from the noisy door. He waited until I’d been seated and then slid in. “So, what is his name?”
I gaped at him and he reached over and tapped the white line on my left hand. “Looks like the width of an engagement ring and not a wedding set.”
“You should be Sherlock Holmes,” I commented and stirred the straw around in my soft drink.
“So, I’ve been told,” he said wryly.
“Why, don’t people appreciate your talents?” I queried.
“People like to believe in the art of their own illusion. They want others to believe what they want them to believe.”
Worth’s words came rushing back to me. “Huh, yes, I know someone else who has that opinion.”
“Aha! Now we’re getting somewhere. He’s a philosopher? A psychology professor?”
“You’re getting very close… a psychologist,” I illuminated the guess.
“Hmmm… well, he should be smart enough and well-trained enough to be able to hang on to a prize like you. What in the hell happened?”
Our dinners came then and there was a lull as we both put ketchup on our fries.
“It’s a long and emotionally-woven story and mostly has to do with other people. I’m here to forget all about that, anyway.” I was trying to tell him I didn’t want to talk about it.
“Are you? Well, considering you’re fairly young and have your full brain capacity, how long do you think it will take before you’ve forgotten all about him? A hundred years, maybe?”
I frowned. “Are you trying to be contrary or do you come by it naturally?”
“Oh, it’s natural. I suppose I’m an amateur therapist, but I know people and animals have a great deal in common. Stubbornness for one thing.” He was unapologetic and that felt vaguely familiar.
“So, where are you headed?” I tried to change the topic.
“Actually, I don’t know. I’m in a situation that could be similar to yours. I sold my practice and decided to change my life at the same time. So, I threw a few things into the car and took off. Doing a little touristy stuff along the way and trying to clear my mind.” He was curiously cutting his fries into pieces before eating them. I watched, noting each piece was identical in length.
“Oh, I see. Do you have family?” This seemed a harmless topic, but apparently it wasn’t.
“Not anymore.”
“No? What happened?” I slowly put a fry up to my mouth, emphasizing that I was using my fingers.
“I had a wife and twin sons, five years old. They were killed by a drunk driver.”
I dropped my fry and wanted to slap myself. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry…”
“Thank you.” He didn’t say any more than that. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to ask another question or whether he was clamming up.
I figured the easiest thing was simply to ask him. “Would you like to talk about it?”
That lock of hair had fallen over his eyes again but it could not obscure the tear that waited. “I’m fairly talked, journaled, meditated and analyzed out, to tell you the truth. I thought I might try a change of life. Maybe a new life entirely?”
What could I say? That I understood? I didn’t. There was no way possible I could understand what must be going on in that man’s brain and heart. He must have stood on the precipice of insanity and fought to keep from jumping.
“Ben, I don’t know what to say.” I shifted uncomfortably in the seat. I was still wearing my western wear from work. I longed for a hot bath in a tub that I could trust was really clean.
“’s okay, people always feel that way. Sometimes I want to lop off my own head and shop for a new one.” He shoved his plate away, evidently his appetite was gone. “I’m going to ask you something and I hope you understand where it comes from.”
“Sure,” I said, anxious to make up for the awkwardness I’d created when I asked the question about family.
“Would you sleep with me?”
I choked on my drink. “Wha-at?”
“I just need to sleep with someone, to feel a woman’s body next to mine. It’s been so long and I haven’t met anyone who I’d even consider doing that with…until you, that is.”
I held up a hand. “Ben, if I’ve given you the wrong impression, I’m sorry. No, I will not sleep with you. That’s for you to do with someone who you love and who loves you. That’s no solution for what’s going on in your head.” I grabbed my purse and fished out a twenty-dollar bill, laying it on the table. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ben, but you’ve got me all wrong. I wish you the best. Bye,” I said and hurried out of the diner. Hurry probably wouldn’t be a strong enough word. I flew out the door and into the street, drawing in huge gasps of clean air. Was this the world I wanted to find? What the hell was I doing here?
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Worth
Auggie was gone. It had been more than a month now, but I couldn’t get the thought out of my head and I felt like I was going to go mad. Damn the woman! Couldn’t she see I was dealing with something bigger than both of us? Was her answer always to run when the going got tough?
I had the corner table at Joe’s. In fact, I’d had it since noon. He was coming and it was going to be a showdown. Once and for all.
I recognized his silhouette in the doorway, the sun and the noise from the overhead bridge framing him. It was a shape that delivered nightmares. It had come at bedtimes, a result of a broken window from a thrown baseball or a dandelion that had escaped my weeding. The nightmare carried a belt that flexed with vengeance.
There were others who looked up, who knew and who turned away to avoid the nod. He was not well liked. He was only permitted because I was here.
He advanced upon me, but this time, it was I who wore the look of disapproval. He stopped at my table and I simply looked at him, refusing to stand in acknowledgment. He finally slid the opposing chair back and fell into it. I noticed that he was moving more stiffly than he used to. I didn’t give a damn.
I didn’t waste the time with preambles or small talk. “Why have you sabotaged my business?”
“What makes you think it is me?” He was gruff, unforgiving, even in guilt.
“You just gave yourself away. You used the present tense.” I sipped my bourbon cautiously, keeping my head clear.
“Are you afraid of a little challenge, boy?” he asked, chuckling and taking a draw off his cigar.
The bartender called over to him, “No smoking in here, sir.”
He looked around at the filled ashtrays and puffs of smoke from around the room and swore as he smashed it into the tabletop. “Heard your filly left you.” He went for the juggler.
“I hardly think you’re in a position to discuss relationships, now, are you?”
He didn’t say a word.
“I want it stopped. Now. What will it take?”
“Give her up.” I knew who he meant and I didn’t think I could hate anyone more than I did him at that moment.