When I awaken, I am in bed alone. I look around the room, slightly panicked, thinking maybe I'd dreamed everything from the night before. I rub my tired eyes, feeling them burn from the overexertion of the past several days.
I force myself out of bed and into the shower, trying not to think that maybe my mind had been playing a cruel trick on me. Those arms I felt wrapped around me last night could have come entirely from my imagination. When I finish and walk back into my bedroom, he's sitting there holding a newspaper and a cup of coffee in his hands.
"I went to get coffee," he says, avoiding my eyes.
I am not clothed, so maybe that's why he's not looking at me. He keeps his eyes trained on the paper. I pause for only a second, before going to my closet to figure out what I'm going to wear. When I turn around, I see him quickly avert his eyes; obviously he was watching me. I know something is wrong then, but I don't have the strength to get into it with him this early.
I take my things into the bathroom and dress in there. When I'm finished, I go back into the bedroom and he still has not moved. I open my mouth to say something, but decide against it. I grab my purse and start for the door.
"Hey, wait. Where're you goin'?" he asks.
I turn around and look at him, really look at him. His eyes are surrounded by dark circles; the pupils are filled with sadness. I go over to him and sit on the bed. "What's wrong?" I ask gently.
"Nothin', I just wanna know where you're goin'?"
"If you've changed your mind, all you have to do is say the word."
"No, it's just," he runs his fingers through his hair and stops looking at me again, "I, uh-"
"You what?"
"I don't know."
"Come on, Todd. Give me something to work with here. I can't read your mind."
Seeing Todd in pain is worse than any torture I can imagine. He is so strong; most people could never go through what he's been through and still be alive. With Todd, it's with him everyday of his life and it affects him everyday of his life, but it hasn't broken him yet. I think of him as elastic, stretching in every direction, but somehow managing to snap back to some sort of normalcy.
"I'm okay, Tea."
"Okay," I pat him on the knee, "I'm going to work. Call me if you need anything."
"Can we go to lunch or somethin'?"
"Sure. Meet me at my office at one, okay?"
"Yeah, okay."
We stare at each other for a long time, trying to figure out just what to do next. There is always this awkward moment when you try to figure out what level your relationship is at. Like, if you're ready for the morning goodbye kiss, or wave; whatever it might be. Rather than continue to stare, I turn and leave the room, hoping to not run into Rachel on my way out.
*****
Tea's Office
The afternoon comes before I know it. I can't help but to keep close watch on the clock. Jazz walks in, catching me glancing at the clock for the millionth time since I came in this morning. An amused smile crosses her face. "He'll be here," she says.
"Who?"
"Todd. That's his name, right?"
I grin at her, giving her an answer without words. I throw my pen on the desk and put my feet on the desk. "I need a break."
"Then take one," she says simply.
It occurs to me that I don't know much about her personal life. She's very private, which isn't bad, but it peaks my curiosity. "Take me away from this madness."
"No can do, Miss Delgado. You love all this drama."
"You're right. Have a seat and keep me company."
She sits across from me, her headphones still attached to her ears with the cord dangling around in the air. "How you feelin'?"
"I've been feelin' pretty good lately."
"Yeah? Good. I read up on it and you have to keep your stress levels low 'cause that triggers something and throws everything off."
"How'd you get to be so smart, huh?"
"I'm not smart, I'm just nosey."
"Well, so am I and it dawned on me that I don't know much about you at all."
"There's not much to know."
"Oh, I doubt that."
"I'm an only child, I'm not allergic to anything, I'll eat anything, I never gain weight, my favorite color is white, I love to dance, I listen to all kinds of music, I speak twenty languages, the thought of going to college bores me, I'm single and not looking for anybody, I love people, I'm a Christian and I love working for you." She manages to say all of that without taking a breath. "And that's the story of my life."
My eyes, as Todd would say, do the bug-out thing. When I'm talking to her, it's not like speaking to someone barely into their twenties. It's like speaking to someone who had been here many, many times before with a wisdom gathered beyond one lifetime. "Wow," is the only word that comes to mine.
"There, now you know me."
"Somehow I doubt that," I say. The more I look at her, the more I notice. For instance, she has crow's feet at the corner of her eyes; they do not belong on her angelic face. Her mouth bears the remnants of thousands of smiles, yet I cannot recall a single instance of her smiling.
Just then, Todd struts into the room, stopping when he sees Jazz sitting across from me. "Sorry," he turns to leave, "I'll come back-"
"Don't you dare. We were just chatting."
Jazz stands, looking from Todd to me; sizing him up is my best guess. "Thanks for the talk," she says. She doesn't leave right away, which, I think, unnerves Todd a little bit. He's expecting her to say something to him, maybe yell, maybe speak harsh words to him through her eyes as others have done, but she says nothing. As she looks at me one final time before leaving, she nods, almost giving me her approval.
She leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind her. I tend to forget her kindness and understanding; she blends so well with her surroundings, I tend to forget her. I shake myself out of my thoughts, concentrating solely on Todd. "You're prompt."
"Yeah, well, you know how you can be when I'm late."
"I just think it's inconsiderate when you tell a person you'll meet them at one time and they show up after the appointed time, knowing they had plans with you."
"Yeah, speaking of plans, you ready?"
"Yup, let me grab my purse."
His eyes never leave me as I move from me as I get myself together. I get the impression he wants to say something to me, but he's holding himself back. I don't say anything, knowing he will talk to me when he's ready.
"So, where are you taking me?" I ask.
"You'll see when we get there."
*****
My fingernails imprinted in the dashboard by the time we come to a screeching halt on 81st Street. He finds a good parking spot, even though he has to bump the car in front and behind him to fit his rented sportscar into the tiny space. He hops out of the car and onto the curb before I even unfasten my seatbelt.
"Come on," he says, opening my door.
Slowly, I emerge from the car, feeling much like a shaken martini. My breathing is ragged and my hand covers my heart. "I'm never getting in a car driven by you again!"
"Sure you will, and you'll say the same thing that time too."
I shoot him a look, to which he responds by giving me an evil grin. I don't find it funny at all, but I smile in spite of myself. I love seeing him like this; he's much different from the man I left this morning.
"Do you trust me?" he asks.
When someone asks that question, especially a man, I immediately grow a bit weary. I give him a sidelong glance, looking him up and down before making my decision. With Todd, trusting him usually means adding another court case to my already full schedule and quite a bit of money withdrawn from what used to be our bank account. To protect myself, I answer, "it depends."
"On what?"
"How much trouble you're in."
"For your information, I'm not in any trouble."
"Okay, tell me what you want to tell me and I'll tell you if I trust you."
"You drive a hard bargain, Delgado."
"That's what makes me such a savvy attorney, Manning."
He smiles at me, although I can see him trying to hold it in. He loves me when I'm this way, confident and tough at the same time; I think those are two of the qualities that most draw him to me. I think he respects that, much more so than the women like Blair who don't present even a halfway decent challenge. "Can I cover your eyes."
"Sure," I answer.
He grabs hold of my hand, leading me toward something. He stops abruptly saying, "don't cheat."
"Cheating is your department."
Suddenly, I feel his arms at my knees as he lifts me into the air. I can't help but to laugh, feeling much like an impulsive teenager. He quickly ascends several steps and fiddles with a key ring. "Okay, you can open 'em."
"Oh my god!" I exclaim.
I am inside heaven, I'm sure of it. I am standing in the middle of the first floor of the most exquisite brownstone I have ever seen. There is a staircase directly in front of me; the banister is made of the finest mahogany, engraved with unique figures and designs. The ceilings, they never seem to end and the exposed brick, the brick just completes the package.
"You like it?" he asks. I can tell he's sort of nervous; his voice slightly shakes when he asks the question.
I wander into what has to be the living room, and stare at the bay window which juts out just over the garden. It reeks of new paint, still fresh from its most recent face lift. There is a fireplace on one wall; it seems to extend through the roof of the building.
I run from room to room, taking in everything and committing it to memory. The kitchen is "homey," yet ultra modern; that seems to be the theme of the entire place. This is a New York brownstone; it's the thing that dreams are made of.
Todd only follows me from room to room with his hands stuck deep in his pockets. Our final stop is the dining room; I don't know how I missed it the first time around. That's when I know that he was not just showing me this place, he had purchased it.
There, in the middle of the floor, is a neatly spread blanket covered with food containers. In the middle of that, is a bottle of champagne and two glasses. My vision is briefly blurred with the mist of unshed tears. I look at Todd, not quite sure of what I should say.
"Oh no you don't, Delgado. Don't start crying."
As soon as he say that, the tears overflow and slip down the side of my face. I make no attempt to wipe them; I know they will never stop then. I feel like I am choking; the sobs stuck in the back of my throat are suffocating me.
"I know you won't let me stay with you…so I kinda got this place…so...we…you know…argh," he yells in frustration. "Okay, I figured I could get this place and you can stay here whenever you want and we don't have to worry about your nosey roommate."
"Todd!"
"Oh, come on; you know she's nosey."
I smile, "I'll give you that."
"So, this place could be like ours and when you take me back, we'll already have a place to stay. I'll even let you decorate it."
"That's very generous of you, Todd."
"I'm a generous guy. Can we stop yappin' and eat; you wear a guy out."
"Come on, you nut," I say, reaching for his hand, this time I lead him.
