Vodka, Licorice, and Chips
7:07. The time somebody stole my heart, although I didn’t realize it until twenty-four hours later.
A bell rang and I smiled at the woman across from me. My smile was one of relief, although I hoped it wasn’t obvious. She was ugly and boring, but there was no need to make her feel bad. She said something I nodded and smiled back to, then she moved onto the next thin table where the next victim sat in a rickety chair. I looked down at the numbered paper in front of me and wrote “No” next to the number five. Definitely not.
I kept my head down as the next woman sat. I checked her out during my talk with number five. She had promise: a pretty face, nothing too sharp, brown hair that sat just past her shoulders, tasteful attire. A slight hint of cleavage, a skirt that wasn’t too short. A good one to take home to Mama.
I looked up with a winning smile, to which she replied with a raised eyebrow. After a closer inspection, I caught a nose ring in her left nostril and spicy green eyes. “Welcome, welcome… Katri.”
“Um, hey there… Peter.”
“Enjoying yourself so far?”
“As much as one can enjoy interrogation.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yeah. I don’t know why I bother with these things.”
“I come to pretend I’m the best of a pathetic bunch.”
“Well, if anyone here is pathetic, it’s you.”
“You already know me so well.” I winked.
“Yep.” She put an elbow on the table and rested her head in the hand attached. “So, come on, do your worst.”
“Gladly.” Her smile was the best yet. “Cats or dogs?”
Her smile fled. “Neither.”
“Same. Pancakes or waffles?”
“Coffee. Irish.”
“How do you know I was talking about breakfast?”
“How do you know I was talking about breakfast?” she countered.
I grinned. “Liberal or Conservative?”
Katri sat back. “Anarchist.”
I whistled. “Interesting.” I leaned forward and placed both elbows on the table, making it groan. “What is the first thing you’d do if there was no government?”
“Kill everyone in my black book.”
“Are there a lot of names?”
“There’s enough.”
“And how does one get into that book?”
“Annoy me.” Her eyes flicked to my hair and back; I missed the moment of appreciation or disgust.
“And how, pray tell, does one annoy Katri?”
“By asking a lot of stupid questions.” She leaned forward.
“I expect you’ll have a few new names to add by the end of tonight.”
“Tell me about it.” She leaned forward even more and dropped her voice. “Did you know one guy asked if I dyed my hair?”
I put a hand to my mouth. “He didn’t!” I didn’t see a problem with the question.
“He did. Why should it matter if I dye my hair or not? You get a few moments with me, and that’s what you ask?” She tilted her head and her eyes to the direction she had came from. “Rookies.”
“Perhaps we’re all rookies, rookies in the game of love.” I looked at the hall ceiling, wondering when the inspector had been here last.
“Do you believe in love?”
Something in me said this was a serious question, a make-or-break question.
“No,” I answered.
She extended her hand. “Who hurt you?” she whispered.
I struggled not to laugh as I took her hand. “That’s a long story.”
A bell rang, startling me. “Hmm. It’s a pity I’ll never hear it.” She winked as she stood up. “Later, Peter.” She walked to the next table without a second glance.
“Hello.” A new voice startled me. I turned to see the object of my desires, or at least the hottest girl at this speed-dating thing. She was that stereotypical hot girl: long blonde hair, perfectly parted, lush blue eyes, make up bordering on too much, a tight hourglass figure and a great set of tits. Her tits bordered the line between fake and real; I hoped real.
“Hey… Ashley.” I flashed a smile. “How’s it going?”
She shrugged. Gee, restrain yourself, why don’t you?
“That bad, huh?”
“I didn’t say it was going bad.”
“True, you didn’t say anything at all.”
“Whatever.” She folded her arms across her expansive chest and averted my gaze. Well, nothing good ever came easy, except me.
“Pancakes or waffles?”
“I don’t like either.”
“What do you like for breakfast?”
“Avocado toast. And a multi-berry smoothie. It’s gotta have at least four different berries, or else you can’t call it multi-berry.”
“Is that written in stone somewhere?”
Her eyebrows scrunched together; what an ugly sight. “Why would anyone write in stone? It’s the twenty-first century. Who writes on anything but their phones anymore?”
“Uh, Stephen King?”
“Who?”
“Ever read a book before?”
“What, just because I’m hot I’ve never read a book in my life?”
“Well, you asked who Stephen King is, so…”
“I was exaggerating.” Hard to believe such a big word came out of that tiny mouth. “Asshole!” Oops, I articulated my thoughts.
The bell rang after some silence between us lovebirds, sparing her from me, and me from her. By the number two I wrote, “Hot, but Not”.
I realized I didn’t catch Katri’s number. I tried to spy her but she was out of sight. Shit. What was it? I’d have to find her afterwards.
The bell rang three times thirty numbers later, signalling the end. Number ten was too stupid to see that I was impatient as hell. You’re really nice, but not nice for me. No, you can’t have my number. I’m in the witness protection program and I came here for kicks. Bye.
We gathered in the centre of the old community hall, standing on battleship linoleum and surrounded by unbalanced wooden chairs and walls fit to crumble at a breeze. I was too busy looking for that walnut haired vixen to pay attention to the organizers’ speech. Chestnut haired? Brown haired. Number ten brushed her arm against mine.
“Looking for someone?” she whispered.
“Yes. Someone else, anyway.” That did the trick. I did a quick head count; there were thirty girls and twenty-nine — nope, that was a guy. There were twenty-nine girls and thirty guys, including me. Katri had fled the coop.
People clapped, and I realized I hadn’t caught a word. I went to an unmemorable face. “Sorry, I got distracted, what’s going on now… Jane?”
Number one was more like a number four, out of four, four being low. “Well, we can socialize here for a few minutes, and there is food and drinks at… where was it, Agatha?”
Agatha sounded like a witch name; she certainly had a witch face. “Paddy’s.”
“Ah, perfect. Thanks so much.” One place I wasn’t going tonight.
“So how are you, handsome?” One of them asked me.
“If you think I’m handsome now, wait ‘till I show you my best side,” I told Number four — I mean one — with a grin.
“Oh? And which side is that?”
“This one.” I turned around and left.
There was a homeless man in the parking lot and I threw a penny at his head, along with the name tag from my chest. His curses followed me onto the quiet sidewalk, where I savoured the smell of the hotdog vendor on the corner and watched my shadow move with me under the streetlamps.
I wasn’t sure where I was going, but it wouldn’t be Paddy’s. I could go home, or to some bar, where I could drink myself stupid before going home. Since both plans ended in me going home, I figured I might as well have fun.
I wandered past looming apartment buildings and bright confectionary stores, past impatient cars and snooty cyclists before I found my Mecca: Paddy’s. It was the only pub within walking distance of my home; it was also within crawling distance of my home.
I paused at the door to my apartment building, taking a sweet moment to contemplate my choices in life. Ten steps later I was in Paddy’s.
It was everything you would expect from a pub called Paddy’s. Guinness advertisements, almost racist Irish names, golf clubs, football jerseys, whiskey and scotch, dark tables and green-seated booths, it was here. A few lost souls surrounded the pool table. I parked myself at the bar and let out a long, deep, bitter breath.
“What’ll you have?” the bartender asked.
“Jack. Neat.”
“I didn’t take you for a whiskey drinker.”
I looked up. “What did you take me for, Katri?”
“A wuss.” She smirked as she turned to obey my command, dressed in a tight black shirt and black pants. I pulled my eyes back up before she caught me. “There you go, sir, just how you like it.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” I made a great show of being a proper snob; she regarded me with that lazy air of hers. “Yep, it’s Jack.”
“Surprised I can read?”
“I never doubted you could.”
“Good. And, yes, before you ask, I have heard of the King. I’ve even read a few of his stories.”
I nearly spit out my drink. “You heard that?”
“I barely controlled myself. I mean, really?”
“Safe to say I didn’t mark her as a yes.”
“What? How could you not like someone who likes…” she smacked her lips and fluttered her eyelashes, “avocado toast and, like, oh my god, multi-berry smoothies!”
“You do her better than she does,” I said after my laughter died. “Did you listen to the whole conversation?”
“Well, what little there was of it.” She poured herself a glass of whiskey.
“The other guy that boring?”
“I wanted to see if you asked all the same questions. You didn’t disappoint.”
I held out my drink. “A toast, to not disappointing.”
“So far.” Our eyes and glasses connected.
“So,” I began, leaning on the bar, “You come here often?”
She laughed. “Wow. Nice one.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m a regular, but I’ve never seen you around before.”
“You must not come in on weekdays.” She glanced over at the men playing pool.
“Oh, right, it’s Thursday.”
“Wow, congrats. You want a gold star?”
“Nah, I’ll have another drink instead.”
“How are you going to afford all these drinks you’re buying us?” she asked, holding the bottle out of reach.
“Buy us?” I repeated.
“Well, despite what you might think, I don’t drink for free here.”
“Wow, look at that. Neither do I.”
“What? Really?” Terror came over her face. “Wait… are people supposed to pay for their drinks?” She stared at the pool sharks and the beers in their possession.
“I think that’s how bars work, but I’m not a professional.”
“I’m so surprised.” The speed-dating ensemble entered, cutting short our game.
“Pro tip — remember to charge them.” She stuck her tongue out at me and went to talk with the organizers while I bravely hid behind my glass. Another unfamiliar face came from the back after a bark from Katri, bringing out beer and wine bottles, and bags of chips and nuts. So much for the food. The man retreated soon after.
“He’s so lazy,” Katri muttered as she refilled my drink.
“Who is he?”
“Some kid. Sits in the back until I yell at him to come help me.”
“Sounds like a dream job. Do you need help often on weekdays?”
“More than you expect, but Thursdays are pretty quiet.”
“Let’s hope so. I want us to enjoy our drinks in peace.”
“And what are you getting for me?”
“Whatever you want, sugar.”
“Nope, I’m not gonna make it easy. Something else other than whiskey.” She grinned.
I squinted at her. “Coffee. Irish.”
“Oh, come on! Try a little,” she said, reaching over and shoving me.
Another make-or-break moment. What kind of alcohol did she like? “Gin and tonic.”
“Lemon or lime?”
“Neither.”
“Not bad.” That was a close call. I caught the hint of a warm smile as she grabbed a bottle of gin from a high shelf behind her. “It’s not my favourite, but it’ll do.”
“See? Told you I don’t disappoint.”
“The night’s still young, honey.”
“That’s true. Are we stuck here all night?”
“Well, I will be. You’re free to make your own choices.”
“And if I choose to stay here?”
“Well, wouldn’t be the worst date I’ve ever been on.”
I took a sip of whiskey to hide my stupid grin. Then, a stupid idea came. “Let’s get out of here.”
“And go where?” A pink straw had materialized, red lipstick wrapped around it.
“Anywhere. Let’s make a night of it, you and me.”
“Do you know what a job is?”
“Quit it. Or leave, the kid can deal with these people.” I looked at my watch. “It won’t get much busier than this anyway. Come on.”
Her eyebrows shot upwards, followed by red lips. “Let me get my things. Finish your drink.” She dashed to the back and I obeyed, wincing as the whiskey burned my throat. I wasn’t sure what possessed me to ask, but she was going with it.
Katri glided out of the back, dressed in real life clothes, the boy hot on her heels. “You can’t quit! What am I going to do?”
“You’ll manage.” Katri grabbed a bottle of Jack from below. “Shall we?”
“Hey, that’s not yours! I’m gonna tell the boss!” The poor kid’s voice broke.
“Don’t care!” Katri yelled back as we left the bar. I couldn’t help but grin at the spectators.
“Okay, Romeo, let’s see how long it takes before you disappoint me.” She opened the bottle and took a drink. “I’m giving you two hours.”
“Ye of little faith. Believe me girl, I’m going to blow your mind.” I took a drink myself.
“So, where to?”
“There’s a nice bowling alley nearby, let’s go there.”
“Bowling?” She checked her watch. “Wow. Two minutes before you disappointed me.”
I waggled my finger at her. “Not so fast. You gotta bowl with your opposite hand, and every gutter ball is a drink. And every strike is three drinks for the other person.”
“Trying to get me drunk?”
“I figure you’ll find me more tolerable if you’re drunk.”
“Well, lead on, good sir.”
I extended my arm. “With pleasure, good madam.” She linked arms with me and we set off.
I underestimated how hard it was to bowl with my opposite hand. Katri wasn’t any better, which made it close. At least, it would have been, if the owner hadn’t caught us sneaking drinks midway through the competition and threatened to call the police. We stumbled out of the alley under his stern gaze, laughing like children.
“I totally won that round,” Katri said, snatching the bottle away from me.
“No way. I did.” I stole the bottle back. “Or, I would have.”
“Nuh-uh. Besides, who got the strike? Who got the strike?” She raised her hands to the sky, nearly dropping the bottle.
“You did.” I dropped to my knees. “Oh bowling goddess, I am not worthy.”
She giggled as something touched my left shoulder, then my right. “Rise, good sir, and remember I have blessed you with… good bowling… fortune.”
I tried to rise and stumbled. Katri was stifling a giggle with her hand as my second attempt succeeded. “I thank thee, goddess.” I grabbed the bottle and examined it.
“We’re getting low.”
“Sherlock over here.” I took a swig. “Wanna go watch a movie?”
“Netflix and chill? Already?”
I grinned. “No, at the cinema. We can get drinks and mix the whiskey with them and get more alcohol after.”
“What movie?”
“We best take a look-see at what’s playing and decide which is the worst and the best one.” I took her hand.
“And watch the worst one?”
I snickered. “Read me like a book.”
She glanced at her watch. “One hour and three minutes left.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“And fourty seconds.”
“Thanks for the-”
“Thirty-nine seconds.”
“Wow, are you gonna-”
“Thirty-eight seconds.” Her voice was cracking.
“I get it. I have-”
“Thirty-seven seconds.”
“Enough!” I grabbed her watch hand, laughing. She giggled as she tried to break free of my grip.
“Thirty-six seconds!” she yelled.
I pulled her lips into mine; she tasted like alcohol, although I wasn’t sure what I expected. There was also desire, yearning there. Maybe. I was drunk.
Her green eyes sparkled as she pulled away. She moved close to my ear.
“Thirty-three seconds.”
“I swear to God,” I began, but she laughed, and I did too. We walked to the cinema, her clutching my arm; for support or because of rapport, I couldn’t tell. I was thankful for someone to support my leaden feet.
I don’t remember which movie we watched; all I remember was we got there just in time, sat in the front, and pointed and jeered and snickered and yelled throughout the movie. We didn’t get to finish it, of course; security came mid-chortle and asked us to leave, which we did, but not without a great fuss. At least we finished the bottle.
“We should have bought popcorn,” Katri said as we exited, tossing her empty soda cup on the street.
“Yeah, I’m starving.”
“No, we should have bought popcorn, sat in the back, and thrown it at people.” We both laughed.
“Why didn’t you think of that before?” I asked her, wiping away a tear.
“I don’t know,” she managed, rubbing her eyes. “We would have gotten kicked out way sooner.”
“Next time we should see how fast it takes to get kicked out.”
“Next time?” she asked, eyebrows performing a rather exquisite high jump. “You still have thirty minutes to get a ‘next time’.” She shook the empty whiskey bottle. “And your moment is passing.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “Well, as it so happens, I know of a place with both alcohol and food. Real gourmet. Then there’s a nice spot we can go to.”
“Your apartment?”
“No, that’s later.”
She snorted and took my hand. “Lead on.”
The young cashier at the confectionary store gave us a look of pity mixed with abhorrence as we piled things onto the counter: A small bottle of vodka, two packs of beer, chips and candies galore.
“We’re, uh, gonna need a bag,” I said with as much gravity as I could muster, and Katri burst into stifled laughter behind me. The cashier shook her head as she packed our goods into thin plastic bags.
“Are you, uh, gonna ask me for ID?” I asked the cashier solemnly. Katri was having a fit.
“No,” she said, looking around me at Katri.
“Score. Oh, and a pack of Marlboro Red. Please.”
“You smoke?” Katri’s voice floated up from behind me.
“When I drink.”
“Me too.” Score.
I don’t remember how much our victuals cost, but it wasn’t important. I led my midnight mistress through streets with broken streetlamps and slumbering cars to the empty park nearby. We camped on a bench near the small pond, trees drooping towards the moon’s still reflection.
“Twenty minutes,” Katri informed me. She took a drink of the vodka. “God damn it, I hate vodka.”
“Why did you choose it?” I matched her. “God, this is terrible.”
“I have no idea. I’m drunk. Pass me a beer already. And a smoke.” I obliged her. The sound that erupted from her mouth sent shivers down my spine. “This is the life.”
“Isn’t it?” I opened my beer and lit my cigarette. “Blue or red?”
“Red.”
“Why?”
“It’s scary. Scarier than blue. Makes you excited. You?”
“Green.”
She laughed. “Now you’re gonna tell me you’re some save the world, heart on your sleeve, hippy type.”
“Nah, I couldn’t give two shits about the world now, it’s too far gone. We’re too far gone.”
“Is that any reason to give up, though?”
“What can I do to save the world? What can any of us do?”
“Try.” Katri stared at the sheet of water before us. “We can try.”
“Do or do not, there is no try.”
“So do.”
“I thought you were an anarchist.”
“I just wanted to see how you would react.” Her eyes, slightly closed as they were, held intense fire within them. “Imagine if everyone did their part, did a little something to making the world better. Imagine if people were nicer.”
The thought of everyone doing something was a touch too profound for my current state. I blinked and watched the lake.
“Do you ever think what the point of this all is?”
“Yeah.” Katri flicked ash off the end of her cigarette. “It seems futile, doesn’t it?”
“Beyond futile. Why are we here? What are we doing?”
“Dying.” Katri set down her beer to take a drink of vodka. “Might as well enjoy the ride.”
“I take it you don’t believe in an afterlife.”
“Nope. Just like I don’t believe in love.”
“A fellow loveless sucker. Who, pray tell, hurt you?”
“Now that story I’ll never tell. Not unless you tell me your story first.” She had the cutest smirk. She had the cutest face.
“There is no story to tell. I’ve never felt love. Women come and go, and it’s been… easy enough to watch them leave.” I shrugged. “I think love is what we call any feelings we attach to people because we’re too scared to be alone. We’ve bastardized it for so long that if there ever was love in humans, real love, it’s long gone now.”
Katri was silent. “That’s…” Her hand touched my shoulder. “That’s depressing.”
“Well, I guess. That’s my point of view.”
“Didn’t you love your parents? Don’t you?”
“They’re both gone. I guess I loved them, but…” Thinking was difficult. “It was a different love, I guess.” I took a sip of beer. “I think I’ve crossed that fine line of drunk when I can talk philosophy coherently.”
Katri’s head replaced her hand. “Yeah.” She held the bottle of vodka up and I took some.
“Ugh.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Give me some chips.”
The chips nearly exploded as she ripped open the bag. Fake cheese flavour was the real gourmet shit.
“Tell me about it.” Oops. For a few moments, all I heard was crunching.
“I was engaged, once,” Katri told me through a mouthful of chips.
“Never again?” I asked, and she spit out some chips.
“Yeah. Never again.” She sighed, a yearnful sigh. “It was about three years ago when we ended things… or I ended things.”
“You left him at the altar, didn’t you?”
She was silent.
“Owch. That’s cold.”
“Shut up. I didn’t do it out of spite.” She flicked her stub into the pond. “Well… it was a little bit out of spite.”
“Let me guess: he was cheating on you with your maid of honour?”
“Not with my maid of honour, although she was a slut. Is a slut.”
“Um… bridesmaid? Maids?”
“Nope.” She lit another cigarette.
“Um…” I watched the ripples fade away, much like the good ideas I had left.
“Stumped?”
“The best man!”
“Clever, but no.”
“Damn. Yeah, I’m stumped.”
“My mom.”
I couldn’t help myself. My beer spilt over the rocky beach as I rolled on the ground, clutching my sides.
“It’s not funny!” Katri yelled, kicking rocks at me. “Okay, it’s a little funny.” She giggled.
“It’s hilarious!” I said once I caught my breath. I lay on my back, looking up at the starless night, thinking how beautiful off-black was. “Who the hell sleeps with their fiancée’s mother?”
“Assholes, that’s who.” She flicked ash down on me; it almost went into my throat as I tried to blow it away. “I’m glad my misfortune brings someone joy.”
“I’m sorry, it’s not that funny. It’s just…” I giggled. “It’s so absurd!”
Katri snickered. “Tell me about it.”
I crawled to the bench. “Oh man…” I pulled her close and kissed her head. “That’s rough, my girl.”
“I’m not your girl. But thanks.” She broke free of my grip.
“Have I disappointed you so soon?”
“No, actually. You’ve exceeded my expectations.” Smoke snuck out of her smile. “Barely.”
“I’ll take barely.” I held up my beer, and she touched hers against mine.
“Are we staying here all night?” she asked, grabbing a fistful of chips and depositing them into her mouth one by one.
“We could. I have no urgent plans tomorrow.”
“Mm.” She opened the bag of licorice and bit off a strand, adding a chip to the mix.
“If you had to have a dog, what sort of dog wouldn’t you have?”
“I already told you I don’t want a dog.”
“Yeah, that’s what I asked if you had to.” I brought my face closer to hers. “If you had to.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” She pushed my face away with a smile. “Well, certainly not any stupid lap dog, with an annoying bark.” She began a high-pitched yip and tossed her head back.
“Ugh, those are the worst. How do people have dogs like that? They’re just giant rats.”
“Tell me about it.” She offered me a piece of licorice, which I took from her hand. “Geeze, if I wanted a dog, you’d do.”
“I have no problem with that.” I gave her my best puppy eyes.
“Yeah, keep dreaming, buster.” She mixed her licorice and chip concoction with vodka. “I guess a big dog. At least a big dog can protect you.”
“Yeah, would any real burglar or ne’er-do-well be intimidated by a little chihuahua? I mean… if you were casing the joint and the dog barked away, you might try somewhere else, but if you really wanted to get in there? The hell’s that little dog gonna do?” I tried her vodka-licorice-chip delight; it was as good as it sounded.
“Nothing.” She snickered. “Can you imagine, though? Some robber waltzing through the house, a little rat dog biting his pants, trying to save the day?”
“Ay carumba.” The image put us to tears.
Her hand wiped away a tear of mine before pulling me close. “Let’s go,” she whispered.
“Yes,” I said, thinking that vodka and smoke didn’t smell so bad from her mouth.
We broke camp and returned to my apartment without a word, our joined hands the only real form of communication between us. I had barely closed the door before she threw herself upon me, kissing me with a fire that nearly burned my legs from under me. I don’t remember how we made it to the bed, nor where our clothes disappeared to along that short trip; all I remember is her body’s scent, a sweet and comfortable aroma, defiled by the sour stench of my mouth. All I remember is her slender fingers ensnared by my hair, and how I wished that they would stay forever. All I remember is her voice whispering in my ear, and how that song played all night in my drunken dreams.
The only traces of her in the morning were a splitting headache, a barren mouth, and a piece of paper with something written on it. After my vision came together, I saw that there was a phone number and a red imprint of a flawless set of lips. I grinned, and then winced at the strenuous movement.
“Katri,” I breathed. As I closed my eyes, hers sprang to life, the turn of her hair danced around me, her scent clutched me. I didn’t hallucinate her smell; the pillow she slept on still held a trace of her. I rolled over with gargantuan effort and lay face down in it, thinking if I suffocated now, it would be the best way to die.
I didn’t die, however. After my mortal stench obliterated her presence, I staggered to the kitchen, trying my best to drain the city’s water reserves dry. The clock on my stove read 11:46, or at least it did by the time my vision adjusted itself. There was another note on the counter:
You didn’t disappoint. Thanks for the cigarettes and licorice.
I snickered as I set the note down and opened my fridge, but cereal and milk was too complicated a recipe at that moment. Collapsing on my expensive Ikea couch with a tall glass of water and many bags of chips, the only thing I lacked was vodka and licorice. And Katri.
Two episodes of Family Guy flew by before I realized that the only thing I heard was Katri’s voice in my head. I shuffled to my bedroom, grabbed her phone number and my phone, dialed. The phone rang, and I struggled to collect my breath as I fell back on the couch.
“Hello?” She sounded much better than I had expected.
“Guess who.”
“Wow, you sound like shit.”
“I don’t feel much better.”
“Chin up, buster, you’ll be okay.”
“Yeah.” My train of thought derailed in spectacular fashion.
“So… you called?”
“Oh, yeah.” What had I wanted to ask? “Um… what’s up?”
Katri snorted. “Wow. Nothing. Just packing.”
“Oh? Where are you going?”
“Away.”
“And how long will you be away?”
“Dunno.”
I sat up. “You don’t know?”
“Nope.” A zipper zipped.
“Uh…”
She sighed. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me going, but I figured… this would be a one time thing.”
“Where are you going?” I asked again.
“I’m going… all over. Travelling.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to.”
“Why?”
“Listen, buddy, your name is dangerously close to going in my little black book.”
“Look, I just…” Words failed me as she continued with her packing.
“I need to get away. So I’m going away. I might not come back for a long time. And… nothing is gonna hold me back.”
“It was your last day at work yesterday, wasn’t it?”
“Wow, look at you, putting the pieces together.”
I laughed; I had nothing else to say.
“Look. I really had a great time with you last night, it was a great send off. But… let’s leave it at that, okay? Let it be.”
“Where are you flying to?”
“You’re so damn persistent. I’m flying to Frankfurt first.”
“What time?”
“Nine-thirty.”
“I’ll be there.”
“What? You are not coming with me.”
“No, obviously not. But I’m coming to say good bye.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’m going to.”
“Don’t.”
“I will.”
“You’re not. Don’t make this harder for us. For you.” Nice recovery.
“I’ll see you at the airport.” I ended the call.
My mind was empty as the weight of the revelations slammed into me, shooting everything up into the air, then thoughts all came crashing down. She was leaving, leaving everything. Leaving me. That bold, brave, cold, anarchistic woman was venturing off into the world unknown, leaving me in the shit. Why? Why didn’t she tell me before? What if I hadn’t called her? Why did she even give her number, if she was leaving? That had to be a sign.
It had to be another make-or-break moment.
I checked my phone, it read 12:35. If her flight left at nine-thirty, that meant she had to be there at seven-thirty, which meant I should be there at seven, which meant six. Six hours to conquer this hangover, against all odds.
With fate illuminating my path, dear resolve dropped by for a visit, and I used his presence to get myself into real people clothes and down to the closest diner, where I ordered the greasiest burger they had, along with their largest milkshake and an extra order of large fries. I forced every morsel into my body, all in Katri’s name.
Next was to deal with work. The perks of working for one’s self is that one can decide their working hours. Thankfully, I had few emails to deal with. I set my email to say I will return on Monday, emailed the few people with a promise to get back to them next week, and sighed at a job well done. While my laptop was still open, I checked the flights to Frankfurt from the airport, just in case she lied.
The rest of my day seemed to pass both quickly and slowly. I cleaned my apartment, nearly fell asleep in the shower, fussed over my appearance for too long, rehearsed what to say, if I said anything at all. I considered abducting her until she had gotten over this travel nonsense.
There was one last stop to make before the airport.
“Katri!”
Surprise was a heavy understatement. “Peter? What the hell are you doing here?”
I avoided colliding with a large suitcase and a larger man. “I told you I was coming.”
“I never thought you actually would.”
“I mean what I say.”
“So do I.” Her eyes held none of last night’s passion.
“Listen, don’t go. Stay here.” I glanced at her large backpack. “If you gave up your apartment, you can stay with me.”
“Peter…”
I fell to one knee. “Marry me.” My right hand grasped hers, my left strayed to my back pocket.
“Get up!” she hissed, yanking me upright. “What the hell is wrong with you?” A couple passing by gave me pitiful looks. Two couples.
“I mean it.”
“We don’t even know each other.”
“I know enough to want to spend my life with you.”
“You don’t.” She looked angry.
“How would you know? Listen, you said I didn’t disappoint. Why don’t we keep going, see how long I take to disappoint you?”
“You disappointed me already by coming here. Don’t you get it?” She shook her head and hid her eyes with her hand. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving, and I don’t want any loose ends.”
I lunged for her hand, she dodged my assault. “When are you coming back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe never.” She adjusted her backpack.
“Marry me, come on. I swear I won’t sleep with your mother.”
Katri snorted. “You haven’t seen my mother.”
“You’re right. I’ve seen you, though, and you’re all that I want.”
She shook her head. “Peter… just stop. Please.”
“Why did you leave me your number?”
“I… I don’t know. It was a mistake.”
“I know you feel for me too.”
“Peter, stop.”
“Why?”
“This isn’t about you. Stop being so selfish.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
“This isn’t about you,” she repeated. “This is about me. I can’t stay here any more. I need a change, a new start.”
“You could have a new start with me. I can work anywhere, I’ll come with you. We can-”
“Are you even listening to yourself right now?” Katri yelled, then leaned close. “Listen to yourself. You’re acting crazy.” We were becoming quite the attraction.
“I’m crazy for you. I’ve never met anyone like you.” I caught her hand. “Come on.”
“No.”
“Give me another chance to not disappoint you.”
“This isn’t about you!” Katri looked to the heavens, and I released her hand. “This is about me. I’ve…” she sighed. “You haven’t disappointed me. But I have disappointed myself for too long. And I’m what’s important. I’m going, and I’m leaving you behind.” Her eyes blazed green fire.
I staggered backwards under the assault of her words. “Fine then.”
“I’m sorry, I really am. You’re… I mean…”
“Maybe in a different life.” I couldn’t meet her gaze.
“We only have this life.”
I had no reply.
“I’m sorry. I have to go now.”
“Yeah. I… safe travels. I wish you the best.” I forced myself to look at her.
“Thanks.” She squeezed my hand and turned to go. She didn’t make it three steps before I grabbed her, whirled her around and kissed her with all the passion left in my pathetic body. She matched me, perhaps even beat me.
“You don’t disappoint,” she whispered.
“Then don’t go,” I whispered back, staring into those sweet green eyes.
She shook her head and pulled away, eyes wet. She didn’t make it three steps before I left, doing my best not to sprint to my car.
I took the small box out of my back pocket before I sat down in my car, my chest heaving. The clock read 7:07. My knuckles went white around the steering wheel as I wondered where Katri was going, what she would do, what she packed, and where was the best place to park a car on a plane.
I touched my chest, half to scratch an itch, half to feel for the stitches where my heart had been ripped out. I hoped she hadn’t thrown it away.
At least I kept the receipt for the stupid ring.
Thanks for reading. Hit that green heart if you enjoyed it. Criticism is appreciated too.

