“Yes, let’s eat,” she agreed, with the peppiness of a teenager in love. “Will you take me to Juliano’s again?” she asked, brushing his shoulder with hers as she walked passed him toward the door.
“Sure,” he said, feeling a tingle down his spine that caused him to shiver. He stood there a moment, feeling the strange human sensations (they continued to fascinate him), then followed her out the door.
They sat down to eat at a table on the raised balcony. Charlie stared at the traffic and the people crowding the sidewalks.
“You ain’t ever gonna aks me to marry you, are you?” someone shouted on the street below. Charlie and Julie listened to a woman complain to the man she appeared to be in love with.
“Come on baby. I don’t wanna talk bout dis now,” the man responded to her, as a fancy car stopped at the light in front of them.
“You could least buy me an expensive engagement ring,” she said, then hinted to the car, “or something that goes really fast.”
“You want something that goes fast? Like 0 to 200 in 2.5 seconds?”
“Yeah, something like dat,” she encouraged him.
“How ‘bout a scale? That will go 0 to 200 in a second,” the man responded.
“What you talkin’ ‘bout. You be sayin I fat? Is that what you sayin?” they continued arguing as they crossed the street.
Julie and Charlie laughed, but under the laughter he wished the couple happiness and true love.
“I don’t think they’re going to last,” Julie said. “Or maybe they’re perfect for each other. It’s funny how those who aren’t married want to get married and those who are married dream about the good old days of being single,” she said, remembering what it was like with her last boyfriend.
“It’s the thrill of the hunt, I guess,” Charlie replied.
“Yeah, but once you catch your prey, the thrill is over. I guess it’s the hunt that we really fall in love with,” Julie said jokingly but honestly at the same time. “When the hunt is over, those endorphins stop flooding our system with excitement.”
“It’s like buying a fancy new car without realizing all the maintenance you will have to do,” Charlie added with laughter.
“It’s like getting to know someone so well, you eventually figure out who they would rather be married to instead of you,” Julie laughed, remembering how her one boyfriend left her for one of her close friends, and as far as she knew, they were still happily together.
“Watching from the outside, marriage often appears like a mental illness, infecting the individuals. It often requires the individuals to develop unwanted habits, live under the pressure of self-monitoring, and it results in emotional highs and lows because something foreign is invading their system, namely the spouse. I witnessed many humans with mental illnesses that develop the same symptoms,” Charlie agreed.
They waited patiently for their food to be served and Julie asked, “Do you think a couple needs to be married before they, uh, you know?”
“What, Juliet?”
“You know, sleep together,” Julie whispered.
“Oh. No,” he shook his head. “I think what is important is true love. True love is beyond any human rules, laws, or philosophies. Besides, a married man can still rape his wife and a married woman can cheat on her husband, but a couple in true love, no matter if they are married or not, do not cause each other such suffering. They are drawn to each other’s happiness and that is what is important.”
“Did you ever feel that kind of love for someone?”
“I feel true love for everyone,” he responded.
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean did you ever, you know…”
“What?” he appeared confused.
“You know, sleep with someone you love?” she asked reluctantly.
“Oh no,” Charlie said.
She thought it was a strange answer for such a young man, but she realized what was strange was not the answer, but the tone with which he said ‘no.’ There was no shame or embarrassment in his voice, as if he was unaware that it was not cool for a young man his age to be a virgin.
“You mean you never…” she rolled her eyes and twisted her face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” he huffed. “But you never…you know?”
“Am I supposed to be embarrassed?” he widened his stare.
“No, of course not. It’s just a little strange in this day and age,” Julie said.
“Have you?” he asked.
“Well, yes. I had a boyfriend for almost two years after my dad died. I don’t know if I loved him. I thought I did, but I guess I was just lonely.”
Charlie felt a sudden rush of jealousy, accompanied with thoughts of what the fiend looked like and if he enjoyed himself. He quickly changed the subject, “Tell me about your father. What was your childhood like?”
“You sound like a therapist now. Tell me about your childhood,” she laughed. “There’s not much to tell.”
“I doubt that. Even the most boring of lives have a river of emotions to explore.”
His words reminded Julie of her mother, where her strongest emotions seemed dormant most of the time, but always pricked at her thoughts when raised to the surface.
“Well, my mother left me when I was very young,” she explained. “I don’t even remember what age. I could probably figure it out but I don’t even want to think about it. I think she just wanted to leave my father. They had me when they were young. I don’t really know why she left. I don’t think we can ever really know why others do the things they do.
“My father was a good man. He raised me till I was eighteen. Then he died the summer I graduated from high school. He had cancer and never told anybody. I could have moved in with my aunt or my grandparents, but I just got a waitress job and got my own place. I figured it was better that way. I had money from selling the house.
“I always wanted to act. I used to dress up in my dad’s clothes and act like an old man. I used to make my own wigs out of whatever I could find: mops, tinsel, straw, or flowers. I even used spaghetti once. I would put shows on for him and switch wigs to play different characters. He never got upset no matter how big of a mess I made. He encouraged me. He would turn off the TV and hold the remote in his hand and say, ‘I think I’m in the mood for a comedy tonight’ and I would put on a comedy show for him. Then he would turn up the volume or mute me, fast forward and rewind me. He would even pause me while he got up and made popcorn,” she laughed at the memory of it all, trying to stand perfectly still for that amount of time. “He used to sit there and eat it, watching me like he was watching a movie at a theatre. Sometimes he would pick up the remote and say ‘I’m not sure what to watch tonight.’ He would pretend to flip through the stations and I would have to make up different characters, then he would turn the station again. I used to like when he said ‘I wonder where that animal station is?’
“He would flip through the stations and I would tease him, pretending he got a music station or a dance show or a movie about a princess having a tea party. I even did country-western scenes. Eventually I would let him find the animal station, but sometimes they would be having a tea party, too,” she laughed again. “I would act like a kitty cat and crawl on his lap and sleep there all night, or I would turn into a crocodile and bite his feet.
“After my mother left, it was just him and me, and we were happy. We, or at least I, didn’t need her. When I got older I started to recognize the sadness in his eyes. He was heartbroken all those years but he never said anything. He treated me well and never took his problems out on me. I was the joy in his life and he was mine. I wish I could feel like that again.”
“Why did you really decide to come to New York, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t really know,” she replied. “I miss my father. I suppose I wanted to get away from those memories of losing him. After he was gone, everything seemed dull. I got a job as a waitress. I dated someone fo
r almost two years. He said he loved me but I was never really happy with him. You know how the saying goes, ‘every girl marries a guy just like dad’, or something. Well, I was one who wanted someone like my dad but Jason was far from my dad. So was Brian. My father was kind to everybody. He never even spoke a bad word about my mother when she left or all the years after. It was like he never stopped loving her. He was just waiting for her to find herself and come back home I guess. But she never did. I even caught him setting a plate for her at the table sometimes, especially on the holidays. I like to think it was just his way of wishing that she was happy wherever she was, or whoever she was with. He seemed to always wish her well. I wish I could find a guy like him, but there are none. He was a lot like you…” Julie stopped herself.
Charlie was caring like her father. Thoughts began to race through Julie’s head, I just said I wanted a man like my father. Then I said he was like my father. Oh no, what is he thinking? I hope he doesn’t think I’m saying I want him. But…don’t I?
“I’m sure you will find someone, Juliet,” Charlie said suddenly, breaking the random thoughts racing through her head.
Then they started again, What does he mean by that? Doesn’t he want me? What’s wrong with me?
“Don’t you want a relationship?” she asked, attempting to glance inside his heart to find any feeling toward her that might be in there.
“A relationship?” he questioned as if he never even thought of it before.
“Oh, I forgot, you’re not even human.” She tried to hide her sarcasm, but couldn’t.
Silence suddenly lingered like a cold wind, every second feeling like an hour, every inch feeling like a mile between them. Julie felt as if he never thought of her in a romantic way at all, but she knew he did, as least at one time. She remembered the way he looked at her on the bus, in the clothing store when she put on that beautiful gown, and from across the tables at coffee shops. Something was there but it seemed uncertain if he would ever acknowledge it. It seemed he had already buried those feelings or maybe he now found her unappealing.
She glanced at a few of the girls walking down the street and felt unattractive as she compared herself to them. They were taller, bustier, wore expensive makeup and jewelry, and dressed as if they knew they were the most beautiful women in the city. Julie’s insecurity flooded to every part of her body and a nervous sadness colored her from the inside out.
Chapter 21
The weekend passed by in the usual manner: coffee shops, site seeing, and long walks through the city streets and parks, but the usual laughter on these trips had diminished. Charlie became obsessed with his letters. He had read each and every one of them. While he was determined to mend the broken hearts of others Julie wondered if he would ever help himself. He was so focused on others that he didn’t seem to notice the affection growing right before his eyes.
Monday morning Charlie tried to walk into Mr. Costea’s law firm with a cup of coffee and his own café mocha.
“Good morning,” he said kindly to the doorman.
“I’m sorry,” the doorman replied as he stepped in Charlie’s way. “I was told to not let you in anymore. If you try to enter I am told to call security immediately and have you arrested.”
“I see,” Charlie replied. “Well, my good man, I do not want to be a burden to you. Could you deliver this coffee to Mr. Costea?”
“Yes, I suppose I could do that.”
Charlie handed him the coffee with thoughts of happiness, as if it was a precious vase with a grand elixir in it. “Thank you.”
He watched as the doorman delivered the coffee to the front secretary, who gave the coffee to an intern to take up to Mr. Costea.
Charlie walked away slowly. He looked back up at Mr. Costea’s office window on the fourth floor. The sharply dressed man stood in the window, looking down with a smile on his face. He lifted his coffee as if to toast Charlie, thanking him for it. More like gloating in the fact that Charlie could not deliver it himself.
“So how did it go?” Julie asked when he returned to the room.
“I’ve been banned from the building. I’ve never been banned from a building before. I feel like an outlaw,” he said.
“Well you’ve been arrested for jumping off a building and now you are banned from a law firm, not to mention being responsible for a bus crash. I would say you’re well on your way to becoming an outlaw.” Then she suggested, “Maybe we should spend the day taking a break from all this. Maybe you’ve been working too hard at it.”
“I’m going to go to lunch with Mr. Costea today. Would you mind eating alone?” he asked politely.
“No, that’s fine,” she agreed, trying to hide her feeling of disappointment.
“If I cannot see him at work, then I’ll see him outside of work,” he thought out loud.
“How will you arrange that?” She noticed how obsessed he seemed to be with the matter. She felt neglected.
“I don’t know yet.” He stared out the window with a puzzled yet serene look upon his face. Charlie remembered the day they met Mr. Costea. It was lunchtime and he went out for coffee, perhaps he would go out for lunch again
“Well, good luck,” Julie said wondering if he even heard her.
Charlie waited outside the law firm, hidden in the café across the street. When Mr. Costea walked out of the building, Charlie began to follow him. Mr. Costea hailed a cab, and when one finally did stop, he hopped in the back seat to find Charlie sitting near the opposite window.
“Oh, not you. As if taking a taxi isn’t bad enough.”
“Mr. Costea, what a coincidence meeting you here. Where are you going?” Charlie asked.
“I’m going to Jim’s Place for lunch and a cocktail,” he answered, seemingly annoyed.
“What another coincidence, that’s where I’m going,” Charlie said.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” Charlie agreed. “To Jim’s Place, driver,” he said with a smile.
“You don’t like taxis?” Charlie asked.
“They’ll kill ya, you know. If not from hitting you then from the stress of riding in one,” he continued with no consideration for the driver once again. The Arabic man glared through his sunglasses, viewing the sharply dressed man in the back seat of his taxi.
“New York is an interesting city. I like taxis,” Charlie said. Mr. Costea just sat there, staring out the window, joining the conversation with only a grunt or slight head nod.
“I particularly like the park and the coffee shops,” Charlie began to say, doubting that Mr. Costea was even listening.
When they arrived, Mr. Costea pulled out a twenty-dollar bill to pay the driver for the fair and a tip. “Allow me,” Charlie said as he pulled out a wrinkled hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and said to the driver, “Keep the change.”
“Tank you verdy much, tank you,” the driver replied. Mr. Costea was impressed and showed a sudden interest in Charlie. He was now inclined to let him tag along.
“So what do you do for a living?” Mr. Costea said studying Charlie’s plain and inexpensive clothes in a few glances.
“I’m kind of a ‘love expert’,” he said with a chuckle.
“What? Women pay to sleep with you?” Mr. Costea laughed. Charlie was delighted to see a smile on his face, even if it was at his expense.
“No, not like that. I help people with their relationships.”
They entered the bar.
“You’re a therapist, or counselor?” When Charlie shook his head no he asked again with doubt, “You’re not a shrink, are you?”
“No, not really. I don’t have a job. I just kind of,” Charlie hesitated, “wander around and help people.”
“So where do you get your money? Did you inherit it?” he asked.
“No. It just comes to me. I don’t really want to talk about money with you, Mr. Costea. You have plenty of money and I have any amount I want at my disposal. Money’s not an issue for either of us, is it? I’m here to
help you with something else,” he said as they took a seat in the back corner of Jim’s Place.
“I do not need help with my relationship. My wife and I are fine,” he said.
“What about your son?”
“That’s none of your business,” Mr. Costea said with an angry tone.
“Fair enough,” Charlie agreed.
“How do you know about…”
“MIKE!” a scream suddenly shouted from the entrance door, interrupting the conversation.
“Hey guys,” Mr. Costea said as his friends gathered around the table, giving Charlie strange looks, and assuming he was just another client of his. Mr. Costea was disappointed that they showed up on time. He glared at Charlie’s quiet strangeness, wanting to finish their conversation.
“How’s that law firm treating you? You keeping the criminals on the street for us?” Bob asked jokingly and they all laughed.
“Just doing my job,” Mr. Costea replied.
“You probably got all the cops on your strings by now,” Natt replied.
“I just pay ‘em off and they walk. It’s that simple,” Mr. Costea joked with them. Charlie did not understand. He just laughed along.
“Ah, all you bastards are the same,” Carl added.
“Can I help you boys with something? Do you need menus?” a young pretty waitress asked.
“I’d like a breast and a thigh,” Bob answered.
“I’ll have the other breast and thigh,” Carl added as they laughed at the girl’s expense. She looked at them as dirty old men but played along with a smile, hoping the tip would be worth it. The expensive suits they wore explained that it would be. Charlie noticed that Mr. Costea just smirked to fit in with his friends, but he did not seem to agree with the humor.
“We’ll have a round of shots. Yukon if you have it, and a pitcher of your darkest beer,” Natt ordered.
“Don’t forget one for my friend here,” Mr. Costea said, pointing out Charlie as if knowing the waitress would never have noticed him.
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