“Will, what a pleasure, honey.” She came up to me and kissed both of my cheeks. Martha was a longtime friend to Mia’s father. After he died, she’d remained a very big and influential part of Mia’s life. She also, along with Jenny, ran the coffee shop so that Mia could focus on music and getting the studio going. Still, Mia spent a lot of time with Martha at the café. I looked past the old, shining espresso machine that everyone called the monster and searched the rest of room but didn’t see Mia.
“Hi, Martha. Is Mia in the back?”
“No, she ran to the store and then she was going to drop by Jenny’s for a minute. She should be back soon. Have a seat—I’ll make you a cappuccino.”
Jenny and Tyler, who were basically our best friends, had moved into the apartment Mia and I use to share on the same street as the café. Mia had also inherited the building, so she was basically renting the apartment out to Jenny and Tyler for dirt cheap. I didn’t care. Mia had a huge heart and I loved that she took care of the people who loved her.
I sat at the bar facing out the front window and sipped my coffee. I watched a piece of paper float and twirl and fly up and fall down, all at the mercy of the wind.
Martha stood behind me and watched the paper as well, until finally the wind carried it into the street where it was violently hit and pushed away by a passing car.
“Sometimes we’re just along for the ride,” she said over my shoulder. “We can’t control everything; we can only do our best to control our reactions when life doesn’t go our way.”
I spun the barstool around to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said before turning on her heel and heading back to the counter.
I whirled back around to look out the window again and immediately spotted Mia. She was across the street and down a little way, standing underneath the bright fluorescent lights of the corner market. She had a paper bag in one hand and June’s leash in the other. It was dusk and starting to get cold. Mia zipped up her jacket and adjusted the bag under her arm. June was hopping all over the place like a maniac. Mia tried unsuccessfully for several minutes to get her to walk in a straight line. As I watched her, I thought how different it was to see her from afar as opposed to when she was in my arms. The kind of beauty that Mia possessed cannot be locked away. It cannot be kept, it’s not for me to own and steal away from the world. That realization suddenly gave me a new outlook on getting married.
Marrying her was not for me to claim her as mine. Marriage is about the other person. I thought about that for a long time, watching as she slowly made her way down the street with June in tow. By marrying her, I would be promising to let Mia grow more fully into herself and become even more beautiful while I sat by watching, only getting involved when she tugged on those invisible strings connecting our souls. Mia would not be my wife to fulfill some need or occupy a void. Calling her my wife just meant that I would always get a front-row seat to her beauty as long as I cherished and respected it.
That’s why I stayed on the stool that day, just watching. True love is the ironically selfless need to know that your person will be okay without you.
She walked down and crossed the street near our old apartment where Jenny and Tyler currently lived. At one point, June pulled in the opposite direction, and instead of yanking on her leash, Mia just bent and scooped her up. When she disappeared into the building, I put my head down on the bar, closed my eyes, and starting humming the song I had written for her over a year before, when I didn’t think I would ever get to be in the front row.
My phone buzzed. I looked down to another text from Mia: Not in the mood for naked dinner?
I had forgotten that I hadn’t responded and sent back: I’m always in the mood for naked dinner.
I’m at Jenny’s now. Gonna head home in a few minutes.
I’m at Kell’s. I’ll wait for you.
It was only about ten minutes before I saw Mia walking hurriedly past the big glass windows to the café door. She was wearing a black peacoat that fell past her knees. Half her face was bundled behind a layered gray scarf. She stalked right up to me as she pulled the scarf off and threw it on the wooden bar. I swiveled toward her so she could stand between my legs, and she put her hands on my face and kissed me quickly, as if to check if I was breathing.
“What’s wrong, baby?” she asked. “Why are you here?”
God, I love her. “Do you think everyone in love feels the way we do?”
She laughed once through her nose and hugged me to her chest. “We are so lucky, aren’t we?”
“I had a horrible day.”
She leaned back to look at my face. “What happened?”
“Uh, well, Chad and Michael came in and claimed that Chad wrote your ballad. They said Chad should have more creative control. What a crock of shit, huh?”
“Oh my God. What ass**les. You know what, Will? You should have told them to have at it. Chad can’t even play an instrument. I doubt he knows what to do with his own dick, let alone a thirty-two-track sound board.”
“I just told them to get out. I’ll let Frank deal with Live Wire.”
“Will, we signed a contract.”
“Fuck the contract.”
She took a deep breath and then I watched as she began to tear up.
“Oh, Jesus, Mia, what are you so worried about?”
“We just need stability. We’re starting a life together.”