Everyone sat down and Will asked for a vanilla latte. He tried to pay me, but I wouldn’t take it. I made his coffee with care and I even made a little heart design in the foam. I didn’t choose a heart for Will; it was the only design I knew how to make. When I brought Will his coffee, he looked at the heart for a long second and then gave me a simple thank you and took a sip. I didn’t want to confuse him or send the wrong message, but he was so sweet to me; I felt like I should be the same for him. Even though he could get my blood pumping with a simple look or smile, I figured the only way to have him in my life for a long time would be through friendship. Like Martha and Pops.
Tyler and Jenny kept up the PDA throughout the night. When Tyler got up to do his slam, Jenny whistled really loud and over the top, it was soccer-coach loud. I didn’t fully understand Tyler’s poem—I think it was about New York and love in the big city. We all clapped wildly for him. With a shy smile he walked over to Jenny and buried his face in her neck. I looked over at Will from time to time. He was making friends with everyone in the café. The word gregarious came to mind when I saw him from a distance, telling stories so animatedly. At one point several patrons began urging him to get up and do some inspired poetry off the cuff. I heard him repeating, “In time, my people, in time.”
For some reason I found Will’s arrogance charming. That quality in a man never appealed to me, but I think because I’d witnessed Will’s vulnerability on the plane and in the hallway that night, the arrogance just seemed cute. After everyone left, Jenny and I discussed Tyler’s poem and her relationship with him. It was obvious by the way Jenny spoke that she and Tyler were on the fast track. After seeing them interact that night, it made perfect sense to me.
I went home to Jackson and an otherwise empty apartment. As I dozed off, I wondered where Will was. The thought gave me a gloomy feeling. I told myself that Will was simply my roommate, he owed me nothing aside from rent, and I shouldn’t be keeping tabs on him. Then my mind wandered to Robert. Why hadn’t he called?
Friday morning, I snatched the Bon Iver CD from the living room to play it in my room. Walking down the hall, I noticed Will’s door was cracked a smidgen, the same way it had been the night before, and I figured he hadn’t come home. I sprawled out on my bed wearing nothing but a T-shirt and underwear. Propping my hands behind my head, I closed my eyes and imagined the CD I was listening to was called For Mia, Forever Ago. I reveled in the feeling of being alone in my apartment and I let my mind wander to the fantasy. I opened my eyes for a second and was startled when I saw Will standing in the doorway, shirtless. His eyes, full of curiosity, met mine. I didn’t attempt to cover up. I just remained expressionless. He glanced up and down my body and then I saw his mouth curl up into a tiny, sexy smile. “Hi, Will. Whatcha doin’, buddy?”
He slowly drank me in again before responding. “Just praying,” he whispered and then walked out. I flew out of bed and threw on some sweats. It bummed me out that I didn’t get more time to ogle Will standing in my doorway shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and that silver-studded belt. I thought maybe I could get another look, but when I reached the kitchen, he had thrown on a T-shirt.
“Nice sweats. How ‘bout some French toast?”
“Sounds yummy.”
While Will made breakfast, I perused my father’s record collection, looking for something fun to play. I settled on The Divine Miss M. I slid the record out of the sleeve, placed it in the record player, and set the needle on the first track, “Do You Want to Dance.” Once the song started, Will shot me a huge grin. I danced back toward the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee, whirling around behind him as he stood at the stove cooking. When he turned to me, I pointed at him and sang the chorus, asking him to dance in my best Bette Midler impression.
He grabbed my hand and twirled me around, then dipped me and made a tiger growling sound in my neck, mock-biting it. Will could dance and if I remember correctly, someone told me once to stay away from a man who could dance. In that moment, I couldn’t understand why anyone would say that. I giggled, pushed Will back toward the stove, and took a seat at the bar. He handed me a plate of French toast with maple syrup, blueberries, and bananas. At first bite, I literally almost cried. I looked at him deadpan. “This is best f**king French toast I have ever had,” I said as a tear of joy formed in my eye.
He smiled appreciatively and then chuckled at my dramatics. “It’s my momma’s recipe. The key is real French bread and a couple of secrets I can’t share or I’d have to kill you.”
We finished our breakfast; I cleaned up and thanked Will, then went back to my room to get ready for the day. As I headed toward the front door to leave, he shouted from his bedroom, “Bye, Roomy! Hey, we’re playing at The Raucous Room in Brooklyn tonight if you and Jenny want to come by…”
“Maybe.” I walked out the door shouting, “Later, Wilbur!”
Jenny worked the morning shift with me at Kell’s. We were slammed so we didn’t talk much. When the phone rang, Jenny grabbed it. “It’s a beautiful morning at Kell’s!” She looked over at me. “Sure, hold on a sec.” She rolled her eyes and handed me the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Mia. It’s Robert.”
“Oh hey, Robert. Don’t you have my house number?”
“I seemed to have misplaced that. I hope it’s okay that I called you here?”