“So when you propose, will it be on your knees and with a ring?” I held up my hands and wiggled my fingers. “I’m partial to platinum. Plain. Nothing gaudy.”
There was something close to sadness in his eyes. “Unfortunately, the best I could ever do is something from the pawn shop.”
I pulled over my boat. “That’s pretty clever of him to use sundae dishes for the hot dogs.” A glob of chili dripped over the side. “I’m having flashbacks of my last chili experience. Strangely enough, I’m not turned off by the similarities, and another evening with heartburn and indigestion has acquired some appeal.” I took a bite. Sweet and spicy, tipped with reds and yellows, spread over my tongue. “Damn that’s good.”
He quit staring at me and ate a few bites of his food. The knots in my back loosened.
“So what’s his secret?” I said.
“No clue.”
“Do hotdogs taste different cut up?”
“You’ve never had them before?”
“Maybe when I was little, but I don’t think so, because I’d remember this.” Another bite made me moan. “I’m going to come here every day and eat these. Maybe twice a day.” A slice of yellow pepper slid off the mound of spreading chili. I caught it on my fork.
Roy laughed. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it? I think my tongue is having orgasms.” I held up my glass. “You should really try some of the wine. The hotdog makes it taste like ambrosia.” I missed my mouth, and a glob of chili landed on my shirt. “I think it’s trying to escape.”
Roy handed me a couple of napkins.
“Are you kidding? I’m not going to waste a drop of this.” I scraped it off with my finger and licked it clean. “Who needs veal and lamb when you have…what do they call this?”
“A slaughtered hotdog.”
“Glad it tastes better than it sounds.”
He drank his coffee, and I poured myself a second glass of wine.
Between the last few bites of his dinner, Roy said, “Thank you.”
“Hey, this was your idea, not mine.” I moved the remaining lumps of bread and chili around in my dish. I was too full to eat anymore but not quite ready to surrender.
“I mean for what you did. At the restaurant.”
Surely I could get one more bite down. I scooped it up on my fork, and it dripped through the prongs.
“I’m just sorry you had to do it.”
I put down my fork. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop to think about what a place like that costs. I should have paid for it to begin with.”
“I’m the one who wanted to take you to dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I would have never let you.”
“I know.” I pushed my bowl away. “That’s why I didn’t suggest it.”
“I appreciate that. At least this way, I get to save face.”
“You were never at risk of losing it to begin with.” I guzzled the second glass of wine just to fill the silence. The room tipped, and I almost sat my glass down in the empty boat. Roy took the glass before I dropped it. “Sorry, that hit me harder than I expected.”
“Maybe it’s because you drank the entire bottle.”
“I did not.” My temples throbbed. “You had a glass.”
“But I didn’t drink it. You did.”
“I usually hold my wine a lot better than this.” I touched my nose. “At least it’s not cold anymore.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“Sure.”
“Wait here, and I’ll pay the bill.”
“I’ll leave a tip.”
“No, I’ll let them keep the change. This is my treat, remember?” When he walked away, I stuck a twenty under his coffee cup.
While Roy exchanged goodbyes, I pulled on my coat and made my way to the door.
“Hey, wait up.”
I teetered to the right, and Roy caught me.
“You running off?”
“No, I just…I thought maybe the cold would clear my head.”
“Clearing your head is one thing, freezing to death is something else.” Roy buttoned my coat and tightened my scarf. “Where are your gloves?” He patted down my pockets. “Here, put them on.”
I did. “Happy?”
“Very.”
We stepped out into a new world silenced by a blanket of white. The streets had cooled enough for the snow to gather in the gutters. More covered the cars parked at the curb. There was hardly anyone left on the street, driving or walking.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it snow like this before.” I pulled my scarf higher to protect my ears.
“Do you want me to hail a cab?”
“I’d rather walk.”
“You might slip and fall.”
“Then you’ll have to catch me.”
“And who’s going to catch me?”
“The sidewalk is tougher than it looks.”
Roy fell into step beside me.
“Besides,” I said. “If you hail a cab, then I’ll get home quicker.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Anything meaning less time with you is a very bad thing.” I looped my arm in his, partly because I wanted him closer and partly because my knees were rubbery.
We’d gone two blocks when Roy said, “I know I can’t afford to take you to fancy places or buy you nice things.”
“Roy, I—”
“Let me finish.”
We stopped under the awning of a clothing store. The lights in the windows turned the mannequins into faceless ghouls.
Roy dusted some of the snow from my bangs and tucked them behind my ear. “I don’t have money, but you do, so you can buy yourself everything I can’t.” He put his finger over my lips, stopping another reply. “But there are some things money can’t get you. Things I know you’ve never had.” His touch followed the curve of my mouth, sending a shiver through me. “That’s what I have to offer you, if you’ll give me the chance."
A boy’s laugh echoed off the building and was followed by the crunch of dead leaves.
At the corner, the red light turned green, and a man on a bicycle made an illegal left turn.
“Paris?”
The lost wail of a car siren started and stopped. There was music playing, but I couldn’t tell if it was coming from one of the bars a few blocks down or a car I couldn’t see.
There was nothing but me, the snow, and the darkness. Sweat cut a line down my back.
Roy made me look at him. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed and tasted dirt.
Roy shook me. “Paris, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
I took a step back. Mud caked my shoes and ankles, bits of forest clung to the leg of my pants.
“Hurry up, Paris.” Julia stood by the tree. Her dress was stained, and the white stockings she wore had runs all the way to her knees. At some point, she lost her shoes.
She’d blame me later.
“I’m tired.” The muscles in my arms refused to pick up the shovel, and the bottom of my foot hurt from trying to push it into the ground.
“Like I care.” She pushed her hair back, leaving a streak of dirt on her cheek. Her melting mascara gave her raccoon eyes.
“The ground’s too hard.”
“Dig, Paris.”
“There are too many roots.”
“Fine. Fine. We’ll put it somewhere else.”
“Please, Julia. I don’t feel good.” I tried to show her the blisters on my hands, but she turned away.
“Quit your whining and help me pick it up.”
Snow surrounded me, and Roy searched my face. “What did you take?”
Everything felt so far away, but it was getting closer by the second.
“Answer me.”
“No…no. I didn’t take anything.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you talking about the ground being too hard?”
What else had I
said? I gasped for air.
Roy dragged me to the store window and sat me on the ledge. He scanned the street.
I held up a hand. “I’m…” My throat squeezed tight. “…fine…”
“You’re not fine.”
“…panic…” My inhale whistled in my lungs. “…attack…” It had been years, and I’d taken the gift of air for granted. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. “…happens…” A tingling throb touched my lips and spread to my chin.
I leaned forward, putting my head between my knees. The vise in my chest eased enough for me to draw a mouth full of air. Then my throat relaxed, and I could swallow.
I found myself timing my inhale and exhale to the slow rhythm of the Roy’s hand as he rubbed my back.
In.
Out.
In…
The bubble popped, and I sat up, sucking in bouts of cold air. Snowflakes melted on my cheeks, cooling the fever burning inside me.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded.
“How often does this happen?”
“Often enough, but…” I rested my elbows on my knees. “But it’s been awhile since I’ve had one that bad.” I wound up leaning against Roy. He continued to rub my back.
Up.
Down.
Up…
The residual fear drifted away. Freed from its hold, I still didn’t want to move.
“Are you seeing a doctor?”
“Hmmm?”
“Are you seeing a doctor?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you need me to call them?”
“No.” I would’ve rather had another attack. “No, I’m fine. I am.” My legs were still weak so Roy helped me stand.
“There’s a bar around the corner so there should be a cab.”
“I told you, taking a cab means getting home too fast.”
“I don’t think walking would be good for you right now.”
I nodded. “Okay. We’ll get a cab.” He put his arm around me. “But let’s at least take the long way around.”
********
I insisted Roy stay in the cab and let me go up alone. It had nothing to do with my pride and everything to do with the fact he’d never come inside with me. It wouldn’t have been a problem if I could refrain from asking.
But I could never refrain from asking.
The cab didn’t pull away from the front door until I reached the elevator.
I took off my scarf and unbuttoned my coat. I was going to be lucky if I could make it up the stairs to my room. There was always the sofa, but it was too short to be comfortable. With my muscles dripping off my bones, it probably wouldn’t have mattered.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” Gregory sat draped in one of the lobby chairs with his ankle over his knee. A king on an upholstered throne.
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“Well, now you can leave.” I hit the call button on the lift. His reflection grew on the brass plated doors.
“So was your date business or pleasure?”
“Why are you here?”
“I couldn’t stand the anticipation of a week with you in my house.”
“Until you pay for the work, there will be nothing to anticipate.”
“And I’ll pay when I get another test drive to make sure you warrant the investment.”
The doors opened, and Gregory followed me inside. I pushed the hold button. “Get out.”
He met me toe to toe. “So did you fuck him?”
“Get. Out.”
“I hope so, it will save me the prep work.” He shoved me into the corner, and the doors closed. Gregory swallowed my threat. I yanked my mouth away, but he jerked me back by digging his fingers into my neck.
He forced my mouth open, and I sank my teeth into his lip.
Gregory let me go. “You fucking son-of-a-bitch. You bit me.” He spit a glob of red saliva on the floor.
“You shouldn’t have tried to stick your tongue in my mouth.”
He pressed the back of his hand against his bottom lip. I reached to open the doors, and he got in the way. “I don’t think so. Not after this.” He dabbed away another trickle of blood. “After this, your ass is mine.” Gregory made another grab. I blocked him, but it left me open for a punch. The impact left my head ringing and my face throbbing.
I lost my balance.
He seized my arm and twisted it behind my back. I have no idea how the hell he got his belt off so fast, but it was around my neck before the static quit buzzing in my skull.
“You want rough? I can give you rough.”
Everything darkened.
The boy reached out to me while he lay in the dirt, and I crouched behind a wooden crate. He begged me with his eyes to help him. The pig of a man grunted, and the rabbit ran circles in its cage, faster and faster until it shook and its feet were raw.
But like the pig, it wouldn’t stop.
Gregory had let go of the belt so he could unbutton his chinos, and a high-pitched tone tolled in my ears as the confines of the elevator came back into focus. I pushed up only to be shoved back down.
Gregory threw my coat up over my shoulders. “I told you I was going to teach you a lesson or two about respect. Bite me? Fucking bitch. You want blood, I’ll give you blood.” He felt around the front of my pants to unbutton them.
I pulled my knees up just enough to give him a few inches of space. The crook of his arms pressed against my side. When his ragged breathing was close to my ear, I shoved my upper body off the floor. The back of my head connected with his face, and he howled.
Gregory tried to stop me from getting to my feet by grabbing my coat. I shrugged free, and without the tension, he fell back. His bloody face left a red streak on the wall.
He flailed until he got to his feet. “I’m going to fucking kill you for that. I’m going—” Gregory was silenced by the thump in my chest. Rage twisted his features into something inhuman. I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t angry. Whatever I’d been had gone away, leaving me empty.
Gregory dove at me, and the cold stillness inside me shattered.
I countered his punch with my forearm, and he went for my throat. A slight turn to my left forced him to overextend, sending him off balance. I grabbed his thumb.
He tried to twist free, but I cranked the digit back until it popped. The flush in his face went white, but before Gregory could scream, I jerked him off balance by his hair. On his way down, I guided him into the wall. But once wasn’t enough.
“Please stop.” He clawed at my wrists. Whatever he said next was drowned out by the whoosh of air I stomped from his ribs. Gregory wailed, and tears burst from his eyes. He curled up in a feeble attempt to block my next strike.
As quick as the rage had risen, it flickered out. The second kick knocked me to the side, and I slumped against the wall.
I was close enough to the panel to open the doors. A sticky trail of vomit and blood traced Gregory’s path as he made an escape out the elevator. He got to his knees about the same time I regained my balance.
I walked behind him as he crossed the threshold and planted my foot in his ass, shoving him into the lobby. He landed facedown. Then he rolled on his side, bawling like an infant.
Bill came from the direction of the men’s room. “Mr. Duvoe?”
I held up a hand. “I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“It will wash.”
He looked at Gregory who slid around in his own piss.
“Do me a favor and throw that bag of shit in the alley.”
“I think he needs an ambulance.”
“Yeah, well, he’s got a cell phone and nine working fingers. If he does, he can call one.”
“What about you?”
“I told you, it will wash.”
I managed to stay on my feet until I punched in the floor code for my apartment.
Chapter Eight
A terrible ha
mmering noise cracked open the festering wound behind my eyes.
“Paris?” Alice.
I tried to shoo her away by waving my arm.
“Are you in there?”
Another round of banging forced me out from under the covers. A thin stream of sunlight lasered a path across my room, and bright shards of broken color exploded around me.
“Paris.”
The doorknob rattled.
I croaked out a “What?”
“It’s three o’clock.”
“So?”
“Don’t you think it’s time you got out of bed?”
“What for?”
“Your friend has been calling you all day.”
Friend?
“He said his name was Roy? Is that the guy you’re dating?” She rattled the doorknob. “It’s not polite to ignore his phone calls. Did you two break up? Is that why you’re hiding in your room?”
“No…we didn’t….goddamn it.” I tried to sit up and wound up sliding off the bed and onto the floor. My elbow hit the nightstand. The clock tripped off the edge.
“What was that noise?”
“Nothing.”
“Something fell. I heard it. Paris, open this door.”
“Not now, Alice. Please. Just…just leave me alone.”
“Are you drunk? You sound drunk. If Julia calls, you won’t be able to talk to her. You know how ill she gets when you’ve been drinking.”
“Fine. I won’t talk to her.” I reached for the side table and knocked off the lamp.
“What are you doing in there?”
“Redecorating.”
“What?”
“Just go home. The dishes can wait or dinner or whatever.”
“Are you sick?” She beat on the door.
“Please stop. Just…” I rolled to my side.
“If you’re sick, I need to call Dr. Mason.”
“No, no, I’m fine.” Anyone but him. “It’s just…the flu, I think.”
“Are you sure you’re not drunk?”
“Does it matter if I am?” I got my arm on the edge of the mattress and was able to pull myself to my feet. “Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not calling Dr. Mason, are you?”
“You said not to.”
I nodded.
“Paris?”
“Yeah, yeah. I did. Just… thank you.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
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