|
Lucas
Riding in a cab alongside Noelle had a sobering affect for Lucas. Like a true burgeoning alcoholic, he felt the urge to reach for yet another bottle of wine (that conveniently did not exist at the present moment) with the intent of dulling all the sensations that throbbed in both his head and heart. At the same time, sobering up might have been the more sound option here as Lucas veered more along the angry, bitter drunk spectrum of things kind of like he did in every other spectrum that existed in life. Only about 100 times more amplified. The book bag containing all his personal items retrieved from the bar served as a physical barrier between him and Noelle, cradled as it was under his arm. The address he gave the cab driver was to his current place of residence. Why? Only the Gods, capricious as only they could be, knew.
“Don’t do that,” was all he had said after she apologized. Shame filled him at the memory of all the horrible things he said to her, deserved or not though they may have been, and he found it difficult to look her in the eye at that moment. “You sound like the victim of a domestic abuse dispute internalizing the blame. That’s not you … and that’s not me either.” Or maybe it was. Was that really what he had become? The emotional equivalent of the abusive husband that manipulated his wife into believing she deserved her beatings? Lucas honestly did not know anymore.
When they finally arrived at their intended destination, he found himself staring at the back of the driver’s head for an uncomfortable amount of time. As awkward as the cab ride had been, he knew anything that occurred outside the cab would be about a hundred times more awkward and unbearable. In the end it was the driver who got things moving, curt in his efforts to get paid for his service and send them on their way so he could do it all over again with the next emotionally unadjusted non-couple he picked up off the street. Lucas found himself waiting for Noelle on the curb in front of his building after paying their driver, staring at the red neon lights that lit up the Smiths Bar & Restaurant just down the street. He did not move even after she joined him on the sidewalk, not for some time anyway. He was still contemplating whether or not he was ready to open this next can of worms and if he was willing to do it while reasonably sober.
Finally, he found his voice again. “You can come up. You will tell me everything. You will leave nothing out. There will be no touching. You will not judge the size or the feng shui of my apartment. You will not ask how it is I have come to know what ‘feng shui’ is. If Jean-Paul does not like you, there is nothing I can do about it and you will have to leave, no questions asked. This is for your own safety. Jean-Paul is my dog. You will not ask how it is I have come to have a dog. These are my terms.” Lucas managed all in one breath, his tone stiff and detached, before looking at Noelle expectantly. “Do you accept?”
__________________
Woman? Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.
|