“No, definitely not.” I took a breath. The pain had subsided but Will was still holding my foot in his lap. He started giving me foot massage; it felt divine. “There are at least five swear words I like better than f**k. My favorites are compound words like apeshit, craphat or batshit, but above all, my numero uno, all-time favorite swear word is assclown, without a doubt. Asshat runs a close second. I must say, very few things give me greater pleasure than calling someone an assclown when they really fit the bill. I love it more than puppies and baby seals.”
Will laughed hysterically. He calmed down and shook his head back and forth. Still smirking, he said, “Mia, you are such an enigma.” I think I felt the same about Will.
Moments later, he got up to get ready. He left around seven to go work at the bar. Our little hangout session was a success. No drinking, no slips, just getting to know each other as friends. I didn’t mention Robert to Will; I figured that was my business.
I didn’t see Will at all on Wednesday, but I heard him. When the café slowed down, I walked over to Sam’s to pick up our weekly order of cannolis. Denise, the owner, has been making the delectable pastries since 1979, and we’ve been stocking them in the cooler at Kell’s ever since. Sam’s was quiet except for the muffled guitar sound coming through the ceiling. Will was playing something. I couldn’t put my finger on the tune, but it made me smile and it made Wednesday a good day.
Track 5: Religion
The next morning, I sat at the breakfast bar to paint my nails or attempt to, anyway. Will came into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He was wearing black jeans and a plain black T-shirt. His wallet chain jingled as he moved about the kitchen. Black on black on a man made my fingers tingle. Black on black on Will did more. I focused on my nails.
“Good morning, Roomy. Aren’t you usually at Kell’s by now?”
Staring down, I answered, “I’m going in late. It’s poetry night and Jenny wants me to meet some guy she’s into. I guess he does slam poetry or something.”
“Yeah, Tyler, he’s my guy.”
“You know him?”
“He’s my best friend. He’s awesome! You know he’s like eight feet tall, right?”
Will had a way of speaking where even though his exaggerations were obvious, it seemed like he truly believed what he was saying. It was like Will’s perception really was reality. He probably barely knew Tyler and Tyler was probably six-five. “Where have I been?”
He eyed me speculatively, “I don’t know. Here, let me do that.” He took the polish out of my hand and I made no argument. As he painted my nails quickly, he hummed a mindless tune. There wasn’t a speck out of place. Once again Will proved he had extremely competent hands.
“Impressive, Will,” I said admiring his work.
“Eleven sisters, remember?” He leaned across the bar, pushed on the front of my nose with his index finger and said, “Boop. Gotta go, sweet thing.”
He grabbed his guitar and headed out the door, humming away. I sat at the bar until my heart slowed down to a reasonable pace.
Later that day at Kell’s, Jenny told me everything about Tyler. They had been dating for a couple of weeks and she was already head over heels. Jenny said Tyler wrote website content for a living. I laughed when she described it as prolific writing. She scowled at me and said, “Yeah, I know he’s not exactly Faulkner, okay, but he does write poetry and that’s some romantic shit.” In the short time I had known Jenny, it was obvious to me that even though she could be goofy and fun loving, she knew exactly who she was and she took herself seriously. It was a quality I knew others could see from her confidence and it was a quality I admired and envied.
Jenny had been at Kell’s for so long because my dad paid her well. Pops barely made any money from the café. In fact, there were years in the recent past where Kell’s actually lost money because Pops continued giving health benefits and raises to his employees. They were like family to him and they were becoming my family too. Because my father owned the buildings that housed Kell’s, Sam’s, and mine and Sheil’s apartments, he was able to keep the café afloat and live pretty comfortably on the rental income. He didn’t care if Kell’s made money; he was just determined to keep it open because it meant so much to so many people. Jenny saw that loyalty in my father and she continued working for him and now me because of it. The income at Kell’s was enough to live on for her and the schedule gave her the freedom to pursue other projects. She designed websites, mostly for people she knew with small businesses, and she coached a little kid’s soccer team on the weekends. I knew Jenny and Martha were in it for the long haul with me, which motivated me to start making decisions. I was making up my mind about what to do, but there were still questions. I knew I would keep the café open, stay in my father’s apartment for now, teach piano lessons, and then what? I wanted more. I wondered if I could finally put that business degree to use to start a company. I thought maybe I would get to know Robert and he could help me. These questions ran through my mind on a continuous loop at times. It seemed like the only reprieve I felt from my life stresses was when I was with Will.
Just before the poetry group arrived, I got a phone call from my mom saying she had booked a flight for Thursday of the following week.
The café door jingled and in walked Will, wearing a cheeky grin. He was followed by a thin, gargantuan man who stood at least seven feet tall. Not eight, though. Will introduced me to Tyler. During my conversation with Will that morning, he only mentioned that he knew Tyler, he didn’t say he would be at Kell’s that night. I wondered if he showed because he knew I would be there. Tyler was overly formal and polite to me; he mentioned how much Jenny loved her job and I realized that Tyler saw me as Jenny’s boss. I thought it was sweet that he was trying to impress me. Jenny came out from the back and went straight into Tyler’s insanely long arms. They seemed really happy.