The
stench of smoke from his overcoat mirrored thirty-a-day, Claudia thought.
“My mother used to smoke those cigarettes,” she said.
“Did she really?”
“Yes. She died three
months ago.”
“From lung cancer, I suppose?”
Claudia smiled. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said.
The man smiled. He knew that she did mean something by it.
They sat at the bar. At a table in the corner sat an elderly
couple. To the right of that table was a grand piano.
“Isn’t there someone playing tonight?” Claudia asked.
“On
his break.”
“Oh.”
“So,” the man began, “what brings you here?” He lifted a finger
to catch the barman’s attention.
“I’m waiting
for my partner,” Claudia replied.
“Aren’t
we all?”
Claudia didn’t laugh. He said
it so seriously, she thought.
When the barman
approached the man ordered a glass of beer and a rum.
“You know,” Claudia said, “I shouldn’t drink it straight. It
turns my cheeks red.”
“You must enjoy it,
though?”
“True.”
The
barman brought the drinks over and placed them on two squared pieces
of paper in front of them.
“So what really
brings you here?” the man asked.
“I’m waiting
for my partner,” Claudia said quite seriously.
“I’m sorry.”
Claudia took a sip of her drink.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
“I work
here.”
“Oh really? What is it you do?”
“I play piano.”
“Oh. I’m impressed.”
“I’m honored.”
They both laughed. They
both took a sip of their drinks.
“They put
so much ice in these glasses,” Claudia said, “it’s like drinking water.”
“Pretty damned expensive water.”
Claudia laughed. Again, though, she thought, he said it so seriously.
She looked over to the table that was next to the piano. The
elderly couple had gone and had left behind two empty glasses.
“Do you want to sit at the table by the piano?” Claudia asked. “The light from the bar is stinging my eyes.”
“Won’t your partner mind?”
“Do you want to
or not?”
The man took the two empty glasses
that were frosted in white foam on the inside and placed them on a
near-by empty table. When he returned to their table he removed
his rain-wet overcoat and took out a box of cigarettes. He offered
Claudia one.
“Of course you don’t smoke.”
She shook her head.
“Do you mind if I have
one?” he asked.
“Could you not?”
“Alright.”
He placed the box back into the
left breast pocket of his shirt.
“Why had
you been wearing your overcoat?” Claudia asked.
“Excuse me?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“No, tell me.”
“Well,” she began. She
took a sip of her drink. “You’re taking your break inside. Why had you been wearing your overcoat?”
“I
needed some air.”
“Oh.”
The man smiled.
“So you really play the piano?”
Claudia asked.
“I wouldn’t lie.”
“Could I hear you play?”
“I’m on my break,”
he said quickly.
Claudia didn’t take a chance
whether or not he was serious.
“I used to
play the violin when I was twelve,” she said.
“A beautiful instrument. I’d love to play it.”
Claudia wondered whether a real musician would say something like
that. It just didn’t seem natural.
The
door swung open and a breeze from outside fluttered the brown hair
at the back of Claudia’s neck.
“How long have
you played the piano?” she asked.
“All my
life,” the man said. He sipped his drink. She sipped her
drink.
There was a prolonged silence. Claudia smoothed her hair down at the back with her fingertips. She sipped her drink. She was drunk now and the man knew it.
“He’s taking his fine time,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure he’s coming?”
Claudia didn’t answer.
“Are you sure he even
exists?”
Claudia looked at the ground.
“I’m sorry,” the man said.
His eyes were wide
and dark. They looked black in the dim light. Claudia
hadn’t noticed that earlier.
“How about you,”
she asked, “don’t you have a partner?”
He
shook his head.
She glanced at the long lean
fingers of his left hand; there was no ring. His fingernails
looked pruned and his hands smooth skinned and pink in the tanned
half-light. They looked like musicians hands, she thought.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“I’ll bet you’d
love to know.”
“I’ll tell you mine if you
tell me yours!”
He smiled. She smiled. She threw back her hair, revealing the skin of her neck.
“I can’t possibly tell you my name,” the man said.
“Why not?”
“More interesting.”
“More mysterious?”
They laughed. Claudia
drank the last of her drink; it tasted too watery, Claudia thought;
the ice cubes had melted in the heat.
A gust
of wind from the doorway blew into the bar and Claudia turned round.
“Another drink?” asked the man.
“I’m sorry,” Claudia said. “Jonathon is here. I have to go.”
