Out of pure desperation to force those alternative circumstances into existence, just to see what it would be like, I push up on my toes and capture his lips with mine. He kisses me slowly. Parts of it register on some level as familiar, and I know that’s a result of vague memories of the one night we shared. This is the only time I’ve kissed him sober. But I’ve kissed Lucky sober, and without even intending to compare the two men, it becomes clear that there is nocomparison.
There’s no comparison because right here, right now, with Patrick, there’s no spark. No heat. No ache of longing. And I know that trying to be with him would ultimately end up being nothing but that—me tryingto be with him. Tryingto make it work. Way the hell across the country from my home.
I gently kiss him one last time and then separate my lips from his. I would venture to guess that my feelings—or lack thereof—are pretty evident on my face, but Patrick takes that in stride, too.
“It was a great pleasure knowing you, Ava.” He steps away and picks up his bag. “I’ll be checking out what you guys do for the virtual concert. You really did save his ass with all this. I hope he’s told you so.”
I force a sad smile. “He has.”
“See?” He hefts one of the bags over his shoulder, suddenly making him look like a soldier heading off to war. “He’s a good guy. And he knows he hasn’t seen the last of me. This just isn’t a good time. And it isn’t good circumstances either. The way I keep from permanently damaging that relationship is by removing myself from these circumstances because I can’t change them.”
Patrick leans forward to kiss my cheek, and then pivots to head out the door. “Take care of yourself, Ava.”
I wave. “You too.”
Stepping through the door, he pauses one more time. “You really are something special. And something I’m never going to forget or regret.”
And then, he’s just gone.
Fourteen
Lucky
Quarantine Day 35
Late April.A storm’s rolling in, and this lockdown is making me claustrophobic again, so I head up to the roof-top terrace. Big, fat storm clouds slowly rolling over the Mississippi and the stark white bridges that connect the two halves of the city. Silver lightning slicing between clouds. The rumble of thunder in the distance.
Sitting at one of the wrought iron tables, I roll a pristine joint and stare at the clouds. Behind them, the sky is inky black, and this is going to be one hell of a storm. But it won’t arrive for at least another hour or so; just long enough for me enjoy the breeze and indulge in some fine-as-fuck cannabis that’ll help me not care about the storm orthe feeling of claustrophobia.
After lighting up, I take a long, slow drag, then recline as best I can in the chair and mentally count between the flashes of lightning and the subsequent low growl of thunder.
“Lucky?” Ava’s timid voice speaks up from somewhere behind me. “Do you have a second?”
I take another drag before answering. I wonder if this is when she’s going to chew me out for Patrick deciding to take off. As if I really had anything to do with that. Patrick didn’t haveto give up on his feelings for her and leave. He could’ve told me to fuck off whenever Itold himto fuck off when he was with her. I honestly would’ve respected him for that. But no. He’s just spineless and convinced that he’s some kind of stand-up guy for not being assertive about what he wants.
I blow out the smoke above my head as Ava appears in my periphery. “What’s up, Ava?”
She peers at the joint and then at my face. “Are you high right now?”
I spin the joint between my fingers. “Not yet.”
“Well, can I get a quick video of you plugging the concert before you are? Just a really short one. We need a new ad.”
I inspect the joint at the level of my eyes. “We. You’re always talking about we.”
“Lucky.”
I glance at her.
She smiles. “Please?”
“Oh all right.” I gingerly place the joint on the edge of the crystal ashtray and then stand up. “Where do you want me?”
She scans the terrace before pointing at the brick, half-wall balcony. “Just stand next to the side there.”
I compliantly go lean against it, and she follows me.
“Hang on a sec.” She reaches for my lapels like she did when she was affixing and adjusting the microphone for the previous videos, but this time she strips off my jacket and drapes it over the back of one of the chairs. Returning to me, she clutches the knot of my tie and loosens it, then unfastens the top couple of buttons.
