“How about you? You can’t keep beating yourself up over our past. It’s over, and here we are together raising our kids. I don’t know if you’ll ever find another soul mate like Jacqueline, but I hope you’ll let another love inside. I want you happy, too.”
I crack a smile. “You’re healthy, the kids are happy … what else could I ask for?”
“So, you gonna go after that girl, you know, the fortuneteller’s hot granddaughter?” Sara gives me the side eye and her signature smirk.
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “Did Will really rat me out like that? What a wanker you found yourself. I thought he and I were BFFs and now I feel violated.” I laugh as my Sara cracks up, giggling by my side.
“He can’t keep secrets, he blabs everything,” she offers in her man’s defense.
“Good, no more secrets.” I stop smiling, ashamed of all the lies that once lived around us. I kiss her forehead and conceal the melancholy look off my face. I need to stay in the moment and be grateful for her role in our lives.
“Don’t punish yourself, Jeffery. We’ve paid for our sins. Just find what makes you happy and go after it. You deserve to be happy, too.”
I nod and accept her advice. Maybe one day I’ll find another piece of my heart, another kind of love, but right now, I have Sara, JJ, and the memory of Jacky, which is all the happiness I need.
“Twilight Zone” by Golden Earring
“I get the blue room for myself, right, Daddy?” Jacob asks me in the elevator before Juliet stomps her foot and yells back at him.
“Sara said we’re sharing that room, so stop acting like a baby,” Miss Bossy Pants adds, which will escalate this situation in 3, 2 … 1.
“Daddy, she called me a baby.”
Here we go. I roll my eyes and try to shush them. The elevator attendant fails to hold back a giggle and I’m pretty sure this is the worst idea ever. The elevator comes to a stop on the 41st floor as my kids shoot out just in time to fly right into Sara’s arms.
I’m not sure who’s more excited about this sleepover, Sara or them. They’re all squealing and jumping and there’s a good chance Will and Sara will be asked to vacate their penthouse at The Pierre hotel after this visit.
“Is this wise?” I question Sara, but I doubt she can hear me with the screaming happening all around her.
“It’s wise, now off you go,” Will says half jokingly and grabs the small suitcase from my hands before escorting me back toward the door.
I really don’t think I should be leaving them and running back to Rhode Island to go find some girl who clearly wants nothing to do with me—or my issues.
“Why you still here, mate? You need to go on about fetching your little buttercup while I attempt to bribe the neighbors from phoning the authorities on this beastly bunch.”
Just as he says that, I hear a massive, ear-piercing shriek come from the living room as we both look up to see Juliet and Jacob attack what looks to be a fluffy little fur ball.
“You fucking got them a dog? I’ll kill you. I’m not taking that animal back home with me, just so you know. I have enough animals I need to keep alive.” I’m only half joking.
“Nope, don’t look at me. She and Emily each brought home a bloody puppy last week. Apparently, Louis doesn’t have much of a say in his household, either.” He looks less pleased than me.
I smile with pleasure at the sound of the pure joy and excitement coming from my kids. “Thank you for doing this. I’m almost certain she’ll tell me to hit the road, but at least I won’t have to wonder what if.” I defend my daft move to go see Kali again.
“Exactly, but who knows, she might welcome you with open arms.” Will winks at me as I leave my kids in the best possible hands and go quickly before I change my mind again.
It only took me four hours to make it back to Providence. Traffic and weather cooperated and my nervousness did a great job keeping me company. I’ve practiced repeatedly what I plan to say to Kali when I finally see her face to face and how I intend to beg her to give me another chance.
It’s insanely busy tonight at BlackGod bar—I got lucky and found a spot across the street from the bar to leave my car. Mobs of college students fill every inch of space since it is Friday night, and this is obviously still the place to be. I walk in, or push in to be more exact, to look around and try to spot Kali or that blond bartender who really took a liking to me, I think sarcastically to myself. That same hesitant feeling that I had about leaving JJ with Sara and Will this weekend resurfaces.
I shove my way toward the bar and order a beer. I can’t see a single even remotely familiar face behind the marble counter. Maybe I never actually met Kali. Maybe it was all a daydream? I take a few swigs at my beer and the ridiculousness of me coming all the way here without first attempting to call her or text her begins to clearly manifest.
I’m a fucking shmuck.
I finish my beer, still failing to identify anyone I could ask about Kali, which makes me question everything. I spot a waitress and ask her anyway.
“Hi, could you tell me where Kali might be?”
She motions to her ear, indicating she can’t hear me, so I repeat myself twice until I give up and walk away.
I contemplate texting her and seeing how she’s doing, but I chicken out and go upstairs to piss instead. The moment I reach the top of the stairs, I notice that the black curtains are gone. The door that was always hidden and locked is now wide open and seems to lead into a cozy restaurant.
I walk in to be greeted by a hostess.
“Good evening and welcome to Joella’s. Do you have a reservation?”
I feel like an alien visiting another planet when I hear her questioning me again about some fucking reservation.
“Is there a girl—I mean, a woman—named Kali that works here?”
The short plump hostess that can’t be old enough to drink gives me a puzzled beats-me kind of look.
“No, sorry—no Kali here. Is that who you spoke to for your reservation, sir?”
I shake my head and look around before slowly walking out. What the fuck is going on here? Where is Kali?
I take my phone out and find Kali’s number. I need to text her, and after ten minutes I come up with a very elaborate sentence.
-Hi-
I walk back down, deciding that I didn’t come all this way to text her a fucking “Hi.” I came here to see her pretty face and ask her out on a real date that doesn’t include either of us talking about our pasts.
I exit the noisy bar and take a left, finding her private entrance, and follow the stairs that lead to the third floor and her apartment. I get to the top of the stairs, knock, and wait. My heart is beating in my stomach as I knock again, putting my ear against the door. I keep knocking until I finally hear movement. I brace myself for what’s waiting for me on the other side of this door. She could be with another guy, or she could be alone and just tell me to go fuck myself.
The door swings open and the dark-skinned blond hair bartender who hates my guts fills the entrance. She’s wearing a robe and has her hair up, which looks like a bird’s nest, clearly not expecting company. She gives me the look of death and places her hand on her hip in obvious annoyance.
Great, this is what I need to deal with now. I should at least be happy that I found a person I actually met almost seven months ago, and that meeting Kali wasn’t a figment of my imagination, but by the look on her face, there’s nothing for me to be happy about. This woman despises me.
“Hello, sorry to barge in on you but I’m here to see Kali,” I say as politely as I can, employing my so-called charm.
“Who?” she practically barks back.
“Kali, you know, the girl who owns this place.”
She laughs at me, which infuriates me.
“I own this place, and I don’t know who Kali is.”
I smile at her because she’s clearly not going to help me find Kali. Kali is probably inside having a laugh at this rib-tickling situat
ion.
I figure I don’t have much to lose as I push the door open further and yell into the apartment. “Kali, I know you’re here. I don’t want anything. I just want to apologize and talk to you. I’d like to start over. I can’t stop thinking about you. I look at your pictures all the time and I just want a redo, a chance to get to know you from this point on,” I yell, hoping my words reach her.
The highly-bleached blond is amused at my theatrical performance and adds, “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? There’s no one here but me, asshole.”
Is this really happening? Does the universe really hate me this much? I gently move the blond to the side and enter uninvited. I will find and talk to Kali if it’s the last thing I do, and this woman or any other woman will not stand in my way. If Kali wants me to leave, that’s exactly what I’ll do, but I won’t leave without her throwing me out herself.
“I know you’re a big shot lawyer from New York City, but I can still kick your white ass,” the lovely, welcoming Tasmanian devil informs me.
I look around Kali’s apartment, and it’s like I’ve invented everything. There are no instruments littering the living room. There’s an actual couch with a big TV. I look around and nothing I recall from spending time with her is actually here. What in the fucking fuck? Maybe I’m in the wrong apartment.
“I told you it’s just me,” she further taunts me, pleased with my devastating state of disbelief.
I turn around, still in shock and I’m not sure how to get this horrible woman to tell me where Kali is. She couldn’t just vanish. This was her grandmother’s place, wasn’t it?
“Wow! Your eyes are super freaky,” she adds and all I want to do is scream.
“Can you ask Kali to call me, please?” I beg her.
“I told you, there is nobody named Kali here.”
Her comment belittles and infuriates me to the point of rage.
“The girl I met when I was here six months ago—Joella Gitanos’ granddaughter. Could you please let her know I was here and I’d like to speak to her.”
She shakes her head.
This bitch makes zero attempts to acknowledge anything I say. I take one last look around to convince my disbelieving mind that Kali is, in fact, not here. I walk through the door, and without another word close it behind me. I drag my feet down the stairs and fumble into my car, completely disenchanted with my latest failure.
I can’t stop wondering what happened to Kali. Maybe she moved to a different apartment or left altogether. I waited too long. Maybe she found a nice guy and he whisked her off to paradise. I smirk as I think that maybe she was just a figment of my imagination after all, and perhaps, I’m in need of some good ol’ fashioned psychiatric help. If Jacky wouldn’t have mentioned in her letter overhearing the old gypsy talk to me, I’d have concluded that to be a hallucination as well.
I take out my phone and find Kali’s selfie that proves her existence outside my mind. It feels as if I just left her upstairs, and yet more than half a year has passed since we met. Looking at those eyes and lips, she seems too familiar to just be some girl—a rebound. I didn’t even get a chance to tell her about JJ. If I never see or talk to her again, she will never know the full story that slowly stopped being shameful. I wish I could tell her I’m no longer upset with Joella, and that I stopped punishing myself for my past choices. I think, in a way, I even understand her prophecy, and she was right—I’m living my future. If only I could tell her this and hear her voice again.
I dial her number without thinking or analyzing what I’m doing. Less thinking, more doing, that’s my new M.O. The phone rings three times before going to her voicemail, which doesn’t even have her voice anymore but just a robotic “please leave your message after the beep.” I hang up, and then before I get a chance to bail out, I call again. I wait for the message and begin recording. I have nothing to lose. I can’t be ignored more than I have been thus far.
“Kali, this is Jeffery. I’m here at BlackGod and I’d like to see you more than I can express over the phone. I miss you and I want us to start over, see you again without bringing up the past. I want a chance to get to know you. I don’t even know your last name, for God’s sake. I want to hear you play all those instruments. I can’t stop thinking about you. I—”
“If you’re satisfied with your message, press one to send, two to delete, three to rerecord or four to continue recording.”
I press four on my phone and keep yapping to a phantom robotic answering system. “Please call me back. I’ll sleep in the car outside the bar waiting and hoping you get this message. Let’s start over. I’m Jeffery Rossi, my wife Jacqueline died a year ago, I have two beautiful children—Juliet and Jacob—I met an incredible girl six months ago, and I haven’t been the same ever since. I didn’t sleep with anyone for two years before we made love on that night. I want a chance with you. I can’t stop thinking about you. There are no other women in my life besides you. I know I have lots of issues, but I’d like a chance to explain face to—”
“You’ve reached the maximum recording time. Please press one to send.”
I press one and send the message, and pray that Kali gets it.
“Tap, tap, tap.”
I jump up, feeling my age the second I pry my eyes open. Every joint and muscle in my body aches. I squint my eyes, shielding the sun with my arm. I lower my window, not at all happy with my morning wakeup call.
“Meet me inside in ten minutes. I’m Lauren, by the way, and I still don’t like you,” the bartender declares in case I thought she suddenly fell in love with me.
“Top of the morning to you, too, Lauren.” I rub my face and my neck, cursing my decision to spend a night in my car. I could’ve found a fucking motel. I’m not a kid anymore. But I was hoping Kali, and not sergeant Lauren, would come find me.
I check my phone; perhaps miraculously Kali texted me back.
I see a text from Will with dozens of pictures of Jacob and Juliet behaving silly and eating pizza. My favorite picture is of them fast asleep with the white puppy sleeping between them. I smile, wishing I was there right now instead of waking up in my car about to head in and talk to Lauren A.K.A. my biggest fan.
It’s eight AM and the bar is obviously closed. I knock on the door and Lauren very graciously lets me in after making me wait for a good five minutes. I wonder if she plans on poisoning me, beating me with a bat, or just mentally abusing me?
“I got your message last night,” she begins the abuse.
“Oh yeah? What message is that?” I’m genuinely interested in her sudden epiphany. She didn’t seem to recognize me or Kali last night.
“I have her phone. She didn’t need it where she went,” she explains matter-of-factly.
I won’t breathe until she says more.
“I got your voice message and I feel a little sorry for you. I still think you’re an asshole, but I feel marginally bad for what you’ve been going through. I’m here to throw you a bone,” she offers nicely but still sounds evil.
I nod because all I heard is that Kali is gone and this woman now has her phone and lives in her apartment. Something smells rotten. Should I be calling the cops?
“Where is she?” That’s all I want to know. I need to know that she’s safe.
“She’s far away from here.” Her answer does nothing to make me feel better.
“Is she okay? Did she leave the country? Can you give me her new number?” Lauren gets behind the bar and pulls a bottle of white wine from a locked cabinet. She expertly removes the cork and begins to fill two glasses of wine, as if she’s a master sommelier. She hands me one glass, lifts hers in the air, and says, “Tchin-tchin.”
I look at her confused, I guess I was correct—she plans to poison me.
She savors her wine, swirling it and sniffing it, lifting the glass to the light to inspect its color.
“Are you all sorted with your wife, girlfriend, and kids situation?” she questions. Obviously Kali has spoken to he
r about the things I’ve told her privately.
“It’s none of your fucking business. Should I call the police and find out what you did with Kali?” This makes her spit out her wine and laugh maniacally.
“Yes, please call and try to explain to the police who this mysterious girl is you keep talking about—Kali, is that what you call her? Does Kali have a last name?” This girl may have a point.
“Can you just stop this bullshit? I didn’t come here to drink wine or play detective games. Just tell me where she is.” My voice betrays my confidence and reveals my desperation.
Before I can fire more questions, Lauren continues. “She gifted my mom and me the bar and left. I have no idea where she is physically. I believe she’s purposely lost.” Her response has a bittersweet ring to it.
She starts again with her stupid wine, inspecting the label as if all of life’s answers are written on the damn bottle.
“I have no idea where she could’ve gone. She could be anywhere, but if I were a betting woman, which I’m not, I’d first go back to look for her where she probably got lost in the first place.” She adds a wink to her sly smile, placing the bottle right in front of my face.
I inspect the label and see the name Château De LeBlanc, Cassis, France. And that’s when the imaginary light bulb goes off. I smile and shake my head when I realize what Lauren is trying to do. I get up and walk behind the bar to give her a hug, whether she likes it or not. This Lauren girl, she may be all right after all.
“Is this necessary?” I hear her moan out in protest. “I don’t like being touched. Listen, if you ever find her, if you mention me helping you, I’ll come after you. You being a lawyer doesn’t scare me.” She can’t keep a straight face with her futile warning.
“You have no idea what this means to me. I don’t even know what do with myself, I have so much to tell her.” I haven’t felt this alive in twenty years.
Now I just need to find her.
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