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If a human being could evaporate, I think I just would have.
“When I’m ready, you may.”
We talk for another hour. Sometimes it’s while we dance, sometimes it’s while we nurse the one drink we have. I know what schedules people like him have to keep. While I think he might have talked with me until the sun rose, I could see that he was getting tired. When I told him I was ready for sleep, he didn’t try to convince me to stay, or have me come back to where he was staying, he simply slid out of the booth and offered me his hand again.
He leads us on the path we came, until we end on the corner where this encounter began. I could have said goodbye there, but I want just a few more minutes of his old-world presence. I don’t know how or why; it feels healing to me in some way. I don’t want anything from him. He doesn’t seem to want anything from me. The only thing it seems we need is to be with someone who is willing to make a connection and listen.
As we reach the point at which the sidewalk of Casa Bella meets the sidewalk of the street, I stop. “This is me.”
“It’s stunning, Bella.”
“Does bella mean in Italian what I think it means?”
“It means beautiful.” Rafael pulls my hand to his lips to leave a lingering imprint on the back. “Thank you for keeping me company, Ava.”
“Thank you for the walk and the drink. It was just what I needed. I hope the rest of your work goes well.”
“Perhaps I will see you again?”
“Maybe. It is a small town. Good night.”
“Buonanotte, Ava.”
I jog lightly up the path to the front door. As I get under the light of the overhead gas lantern, his body that was once facing me has now turned and nearly disappeared in the darkness up the block. I’m glad I listened to the voices in my head telling me to get out of my way to have this experience. He was kind, smart, soft spoken, and thoughtful. What more could I want from a chance meeting? I’ll tell you, not much.
I wake up to the smell of bacon coming from just outside my bedroom door. The sun is bright and filtering through the shades covering my windows. Before I get out of bed to investigate the sizzle behind the smell, I do another replay in my head of last night. I know I dreamed about him. I can remember some things very vividly, mostly the things that jarred my senses. The visual of his walk, the feel of his fingers on my wrist, and the imprint of his lips on the back of my hand, which I swear I can still feel.
I hear the song playing over and over in my head and it finally clicks which movie the song is from. I can still taste the soft ginger flavor over my tastebuds and the gentle musky smell of his scent still lingers around me. I feel calm, settled. It could be from the great night of sleep I had or it could be spending that little time with him.
After a long, big stretch from head to toe, I pull my curls into a messy bun and venture out toward the bacon. My door isn’t even all the way open before the third degree ensues.
“Holy shit, girl, I thought you were never going to get up. I was about to burst in and wake your ass up. I want to hear all the things. Tell me all the details. Don’t leave anything out.”
“Oh my God. How much coffee have you had already?” I joke.
“Damn, girl. Too much and not enough. Park at the table and start talking.”
I tug at the hem of my sleep shorts and my tank top before I sit on the chair, pulling my knees to my chest. “I don’t know. I feel like it happened and it didn’t. I was just walking and then he was there. I didn’t really look at him, I guess, when I ran into him at the coffee shop. He’s fucking stunning.”
“Well, duh! Those genes are like damn.” Sylvia stops for a moment of prayer. “Thank you, Lord, for all your creations, especially this fine-ass man.”
I start laughing and toss a pillow at her back from the chair next to me. “Oh my God, stop it! It isn’t just about how he looks on the outside. He should be like a Disney prince or something. He opened every door. When I was going to step off the curb first, he took my wrist and he got in front of me.”
“Oh, Lord, have mercy. I would have passed out. That is some lay your coat over a puddle to get in the horse-drawn carriage stuff. Breathing would have ceased.”
“I was holding my breath for a while, trust me. We went to that bar I texted you from and all we did was talk, well, except for the dancing.”
“Dancing? Shit. No. Just no. Okay, back up. What was he wearing?”
I close my eyes to quickly find the image of him in my head. “He was dressed simply. He had on a pair of light-colored board shorts and a white linen shirt rolled to the elbows. I think he might have been fresh from a shower, but I can’t be sure. He had a casual pair of shoes on. Not like running shoes, but not those sandals we hate either. He had a simple chain around his neck. He told me it belonged to his father. He takes it for good luck when he travels internationally. I don’t know, Syl. He was beautiful.”
“You sure know a lot about him. What does he know about you?”
“If you’re asking if we did more than talk, the answer is no. We danced a bit more, then he asked if I would be willing to let him walk me home.”
“Sweet Jesus. I would have fallen out.”
“I mean, it felt like a natural progression. I knew there was no way he was going to let me go it alone. But he never left the sidewalk. He stayed there. He kissed the back of my hand and I sort of fled. I got to the door and when I looked back, he slid his hands back in his pockets and walked away.”
