Passion in Portland 2016 Anthology

by Anthology

  “Pretty good, huh?” he whispered as if it was a holy sanctuary. In many ways, it was.

  “Are we allowed to be in here?” I asked, noticing no one around.

  “Yes.”

  I turned back to look at him. His eyes, once so clouded and dark, sucked me in easier than this bookstore. I allowed myself to stare back. After ten years with the same man, I owed it to myself to stare back. He tugged my hand and the distance closed between us. The collections of words that encircled us left me speechless.

  “If I were to kiss you,” he asked in the quiet of the room, surrounded by words written by the greatest minds of the literary world. “Would I be the second guy you’ve ever kissed?”

  “No.” My eyes flickered down to his lips and back again. “You’d be the third.”

  He leaned forward, the sweet taste of Old Dirty Bastard lingering on his lips. I reminded myself to be free, and I kissed him back.

  Six

  Freedom was easy to accomplish in the spur of the moment. Adrenaline always played a part in living spontaneously, no matter the size of the situation. It’s usually the moment right after you’ve accomplished something you wouldn’t normally do when the concept of freedom weighs down heavy on your shoulders like the world-bearing Atlas. These were the moments when I would usually flee a situation. And with Walt, I did just that. I didn’t immediately run screaming out of the Rare Books Room. I actually spent another hour walking around with him, even holding his hand at times, but I eventually feigned tiredness. When the Uber dropped me off at Zoe’s house, he asked if I’d come grab a drink at the pub soon. I said I would and thanked him for the day. Because it had been such a nice day.

  It had been a week since that day and I hadn’t seen him since.

  His brothers invited me out to the pub a few times, but I always declined. They stopped acting as friendly as the week went on. They practically ignored me when Zoe cooked brunch for everyone the morning of Tara and Beth’s departure. Brothers did talk. But I was being realistic and logical. I’d been without a wedding ring for less than a month. I was on a cross-country trip to find myself, and finding oneself didn’t mean falling in the arms of another man after being with one for ten years. I had to learn how to breath on my own for a while. I could easily see myself falling in line with Walt, but how would that fix me? It wouldn’t.

  I spent most of the week venturing out a little more (mainly trying to stay off Alberta Street), but today I felt a little lazy. Because it was a Saturday, most people were out, so besides my morning coffee expedition, I kept to myself in my room and tried to figure out what to do with the rest of my time here.

  A subtle knock tapped against the door. I scooted away from the wooden desk underneath the window and went to the door. Upon opening, Zoe peeked around the door with newly-dyed orange hair and an apologetic smile. Besides this new orange and the previous rainbow style she’d worn on my arrival, I’d also seen her hair green, but that color hadn’t stayed around too long.

  “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you.”

  “Oh, you’re not a bother. What’s up?” I said, pulling the door open so she could enter if she wanted. Instead, she leaned against the open doorframe.

  “I was planning a brunch tomorrow for Patrick and Jonah. I was just wondering if you’d be there. You’ve been out a lot, which is good, I just didn’t want to cook too much.”

  “Sure, I’d love to come. If they want me there.”

  Her face winced slightly.

  “All I did was kiss the guy. I don’t understand what the deal is.”

  “I totally understand where you’re coming from, but Walt is a nice guy. I’ve known him for a few years.”

  “I’ve been single for like thirty seconds.”

  “And that’s why I understand, but you can still enjoy your time here.”

  “I am enjoying my time here.”

  “With more human interaction, Quinn.”

  I nodded, taking in a breath. She was right. I’d mastered the venturing out, but I hadn’t really interacted with too many people. One step at a time, I told myself. I had to build up to people. I had to learn to trust people again.

  “I’ll be there to see the guys off. I really did like having them around. I never see the new couple.”

  “Yeah, they’re newlyweds, so I never see them either.” She turned to walk away, but then turned back just as I reached for the door. “Think about what I said. No one says you have to marry Walt. I don’t even think he’s that type of guy, but he’s an interesting guy. Couldn’t hurt just to have fun.”

  “Just have fun.”

  “Exactly.” She walked back down the hallway. I closed the door behind her.

  Just have fun, echoed in my head. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. 3:30 in the afternoon wasn’t too early for a beer; at least, not where I came from.

  Seven

  The terms ‘suck it up’ or ‘bite the bullet’ weren’t much encouragement when a woman stepped into the establishment of a man they’d recently blown off. The chill in the air was the ultimate deciding factor of opening the door to the pub. I had hoped I could blend in like a wallflower, but being the only one there, I found nowhere to hide. I raised my chin and sat on the middle stool of the bar. I stared at the row of taps across from me, trying to focus on something else instead of my cold hands and the swarm in my stomach. I zoned in on an IPA as a figure came through a side door. I turned my head slowly and met the lingering dark eyes behind the horn-rimmed frames. He walked to the taps in front of me, drew a glass from a refrigerated drawer, and pulled down on a single lever, filling the glass with beer until the foam ran over the top. He turned back and placed it on a coaster in front of me. We stared at each other. I assumed he was waiting for me to give an explanation, but my lips barely moved. He raised his hand for me to stop. My shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered in a raspy voice. I breathed in deep, hope warming my chest.

  “I got wrapped up in the moment, and I didn’t consider where your head was.” He leaned his elbows down on the bar and looked away from me. “It just felt like a good moment.”

  “Walt.” He turned back at the sound of my voice. “It was a good moment. I just have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I still have to figure that out.”

  “I totally respect and understand that, but I also believe you might need a friend while you’re in Portland.” That little smirk of his emerged, and I couldn’t help giving him one of my own.

  “Oh, a friend, huh?” I smirked right into my beer just to cover up any possible cheesy grins. Thankfully, a group of people entered at that moment, and he wandered off to the other side of the bar. He came back, pulling out more glasses.

  “You came at a good time. Happy hour is starting and you’ve got the best spot in the bar.” He turned back to the taps and started pouring.

  “Why’s that? Close to the beer?”

  “Nope,” he said before turning around and placing another beer in front of me. “Close to the bartender.”

  I slowly swiveled on my stool, opposite where he was serving beer, and chugged the remaining first beer. This “friend” was going to be unlike any friend I’d ever had. I needed the liquid courage for sure.

  Within thirty minutes, I was on beer number three and making new friends with the patrons sitting to the left and the right of me. A band started playing in the back of the pub, but I didn’t see much of Walt except when my glass was empty. He didn’t ask if I wanted a refill. It just appeared in front of me. When beer number four was placed in front of me, he asked, “Did you have any plans tonight?”

  I shook my head, drinking my beer. There was no sipping anymore.

  “I get off in an hour. Let me take you out.”

  “Sure. Drink number five better be water or you’re just taking me to bed.”

  His eyebrows leapt above the horn-rims.

  “Don’t get too excited. Lots of snoring.”


  A deep barrel laugh echoed as he left me to my beer. A water was given to me in passing. I decided to leave beer number four until after I drank this glass of water. The straw danced until I was able to catch it in between my lips. My eyes roamed around the bar as I sipped steadily, trying to lose a little of the buzz. I stopped roaming and sipping when Walt bent over. My forehead creased slowly as I cocked my eyebrow. I was definitely not sober enough. I knew this because Walt locked eyes on me and caught me staring. I rolled my eyes up and spun around in my stool, figuring this was the best time to use the ladies room. I walked around the bar and through the open door. I locked it behind me and stared at myself in the reflection.

  “You can do this, Quinn,” I whispered, low enough so no one outside the door could hear me. “For once in your life, live.”

  I dug through my bag and pulled out my compact, trying to wipe the buzz off my face. I zipped it back into my bag and took a deep breath. I reached for the door and pulled it open. My eyes instantly met Walt’s. His forearm rested against the wall in the hallway.

  “Wanna go get some food?”

  “I thought you had to work a while longer.”

  “Owners get privileges,” he said, stepping away from the door.

  “You own the place?” I followed him through the crowded bar and out the back door.

  “Yep. I bought it with a couple of guys from college. They sort of own it, but only silently.”

  “All the perks, then,” I responded while stepping out into the cloudy chill.

  He walked beside me. My eyes met his.

  “Right now … it’s pretty damn perfect.”

  I turned my head against the weird sensation tingling my cheeks. It had been a long while, but I was pretty sure of it. I was blushing.

  Eight

  By the time the blushing went away (surely caused by the alcohol consumption), we had sat down at an outside table of a restaurant. Heat lamps and an outdoor fire kept the dozens of tables warm, but I left my scarf and fleece on because it really was chilly. In Portland, people liked the outdoors and it didn’t matter the season.

  “I’d like to come back here in the summer someday,” I said, not realizing I’d spoken out loud. I sipped the wine in front of me, slowly. I needed to keep my wits about me.

  “You should. You should stay here for a whole year.”

  “I’d get fat from Voodoo and broke from Powell’s.”

  “Everything’s better in moderation,” he sipped his wine, keeping his eyes on me.

  “Some things are still good, even excessively.”

  He eyed me and leaned across the table. “Was that a flirt?”

  I laughed. “A poor attempt at one.”

  “I’m impressed.” He leaned back in his chair.

  I shrugged my shoulders and sipped more wine. Thankfully, two salads were brought to the table. I might have gone with something more substantial, but the produce in this city was amazingly fresh. I could never pass up a good salad.

  Dinner proceeded with another bottle of wine. Random questions and conversations took place like it was an actual first date. It was nice. Even with my ex, I hadn’t really gone on a first date. It was mainly frat parties and football games. We slowly got to know each other through these events, but we were a couple of freshman and our attraction was purely physical at first.

  Walt was completely different.

  “I had gone through something like what you’re going through,” he stated, while pouring me another glass.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was with a girl the last two years of college and for two years after. When she broke up with me, I had to readjust everything. I focused on the pub, and eventually, I got over it.”

  “Why did y’all break up?”

  He glanced away.

  “Or is that too personal?”

  He shook his head and twisted the stem of his wine glass, not looking at me.

  “I didn’t want to get married.”

  “After living through it, I don’t blame you.”

  “It’s not that I don’t, necessarily. It’s just that I knew she wasn’t it.”

  “But you were together for years.”

  “It just became comfortable, but I knew that wasn’t it.”

  “If only you had been my ex.”

  “That’s the thing.”

  “What is?”

  He rested his crossed arms on the table and leaned forward to look at me straight on.

  “I’d never be your ex. If you and I were together, I think we’d always work out our differences and we’d be able to. I think we click on that level.”

  “You have no idea. I can be crazy.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Maybe we’re both crazy and that’s why we seem normal together.”

  I cocked my eyebrow over my fourth glass of wine. So much for going slow.

  “Touché.”

  “Can I get you anything else?” the waiter interrupted at a perfect point. I glanced around, noticing we’d outdrank everyone else. Walt and I looked at each other. I could give myself a dozen excuses of why I should just say my goodbyes and go back to Zoe’s, but the thing about Walt was I did feel normal with him. I liked this feeling of normalcy, even if it seemed all weird to me.

  “Just the check,” I answered, not tearing my eyes from him until the bill came between us. Out of instinct, I reached for my bag to pay, but he quickly took the slip of paper into his possession before I could get that far.

  “You see, this actually was a date, so there’s no chance you’re paying.”

  I lifted my hands from my bag as he dug some money out of his wallet, placing it neatly on the table. He stood and reached out his hand to me. I stared up at him and then at his hand. I eased mine inside and followed him through a gate and out onto the sidewalk.

  “Where should we go now?” he asked.

  “Let’s just hangout.”

  “Any particular place?” He looked down at me. I knew what answer he wanted me to give. It was the same thing I wanted.

  “How about your place?”

  He looked away, smiling as he tugged on my hand and guiding me toward the street corner. We walked passed a few houses, approaching a gate of yet another craftsman.

  “I rent the basement. It’s nice, just not enough room for my brothers to stay. They prefer to have their own space anyway. Do their own thing, you know?”

  He unlocked a side door. We went down a flight of stairs, and then through another door into a small living room with an efficient kitchen, enough for a single guy. The walls were painted a dark blue, making the space appear smaller. Not uncomfortably small, but cozy. The only thing hanging on the wall was a flat screen. He went to the fridge and left me standing in the middle of the room.

  “Can I get you a beer?”

  “Sure,” I answered, taking off my scarf. He came back and handed me a bottle. I followed him to the sofa, and we sat, probably a little too close, not allowing for much space. He laid his arm across the back of the sofa behind me. I took a swig of beer. It tasted a little hoppy, but I drank more anyway. For some reason, I thought beer would give me a level head, but while in any sort of proximity of Walt, my head remained in a fog. A fog I didn’t mind being lost in.

  “So, Persuasion is one of your five, but something tells me you were only bringing four.”

  I put down my beer and turned to fully face him.

  “How the hell did you know that?”

  “My guess is the fifth book is Wild by Cheryl Strayed.”

  I leaned back, wide eyed. “Did you sneak into my room?”

  He laughed placing his beer down. “I told you that I had to get to know you, and that was really the only book I could come up with. It seemed fitting. A recent divorcee on a journey. Every airport has it on their bestsellers’ shelf anyway. My guess is that you bought it before your flight and read it on the plane.”

  “I finished it on the plane.” I turned away and grabbed m
y beer. Before taking a sip, I asked, “Do you know the other three?”

  “I’ll figure them out in time.”

  I looked up at him and knew he wouldn’t make a move. His arm was around me. His sweet smirk never left his face. He was welcoming anything I wanted to do or not do, but I knew it was all on me. I reached my hand up to his face. He leaned into my touch. I eased forward and he mimicked me. I’d never felt more alive than I did in the moment when our lips touched, and I didn’t plan to stop either.

  Nine

  That whole in-the-moment freedom with adrenaline pumping through the veins, always seems like a great idea at the time. Spontaneity always seems like a good idea. But this was worse than the kiss at Powell’s. Waking up naked on the floor of an unfamiliar place with a headache and dry mouth, that’s when the ‘fuck, what was I thinking?’ comes into play. I reached up and silently patted the sofa cushions behind me to find my bag. I pulled out my phone and read 6:45. I listened closely as his long breaths confirmed his deep sleep. I knew this was wrong, but I didn’t know what else to do. I swiped open my phone and clicked the Uber app. I had four minutes to put on my clothes and rush outside. And that’s just what I did.

  The Uber driver was quiet. I assumed they were used to getting ride requests from a number of people at this time of the morning. I was definitely sporting the ‘I just had the best sex of my life’ hair because it had been the absolute best sex of my life. Powell’s wasn’t the orgasm. It was merely foreplay. And I’d just left him naked on the floor. I didn’t need to ask what the hell was wrong with me. I already knew. It was stupid, but it felt more stupid to let myself get sucked into his world. I wasn’t ready for that. I was supposed to be taking baby steps and I’d just taken a fucking leap into the Willamette River.

  I quietly went up the stairs to my room and closed the door behind me. I could still smell him. I could still feel his body against mine. I knew I couldn’t give any more of myself than I already had when I didn’t even know who I was. I walked into the bathroom and started to run the shower. My head wanted me to feel some sense of shame, but I didn’t. It had been something I needed, and maybe I would understand that when I saw him again, which would be later this morning at the brunch Zoe had planned for Patrick and Jonah.