Part 2 of the Holden/Leah dinner. Neither of us have had a lot of time to write with one another so we keep just doing little bits here & there when we can. Part 1 is here.
“Well, let’s not wait on ceremony,” Holden says, picking up his burger. “Dig in.”
Leah stabs a crouton, but she’s still interested in talking. “So are you the original driver of this theoretical car?”
He takes a big bite and chews appreciatively. Raising his hand to cover his mouth, he speaks: “Let’s talk about you. I’m sure you’re a whole lot more interesting anyways. Where you from?”
She takes a bite, looking down at her plate as she very deliberately picks her next mouthful. “Here in the city,” she answers.
“Mmmhm?” He wipes his mouth and grins at her crookedly. “Is that so?”
She finishes her forkful before responding: “Yeah, people actually do grow up here, you know.” Leah meets his gaze and grins in return.
He nods. “Now, I know it’s rude to ask a lady her age, but I’m curious… how long ago was it that you ‘grew up’?”
She shrugs. “Long ago enough that I don’t really remember.” She swaps her fork to her left hand and rests her right on his leg again, which is propped up on the seat alongside her. “I’m counting questions and I’m going to throw just as many back at you.”
“I don’t think this has enough mayo,” Holden says after chewing thoughtfully. He tries to catch the waitress’ eye the next time she goes by.
Leah takes a drink of her soda, then stands up a bit and looks over the back of the booth to search out the waitress as well. Soon enough the middle-aged woman sees them and comes over, and Leah drops back down into her seat to continue eating. “Yes, doll?”
“What have I got to do to get you to bring me a little bit more mayonaise for my burger?”
The waitress answers quickly, “Just ask. Anything else?” She glances over at Leah. “For either of you?”
Leah shakes her head. “I’m fine.”
“Just the mayo.”
She nods and departs.
Holden looks across the table at Leah. “Having a good time?” he asks cheerfully.
Leah smiles at him, finishing a sip from her soda. “Yeah, sure,” she says. “Food’s decent. I don’t think I’d order a salad if we came here again, but that’s not really a surprise.” She makes a gesture indicating the rather questionable decor, but doesn’t sound annoyed inasmuch as amused.
He takes a gulp of beer. “Never much liked salad myself. More Taqlid’s thing, really. Doesn’t eat meat, you know?”
“Had no idea. I don’t eat much meat myself, either.” She pops a crouton into her mouth and, when she’s finished chewing it, asks, “How’s your burger?”
“Delicious!” He licks his lips. “I love meat, really. I don’t think I could live without it.”
“It takes all types.” She begins picking at her cardboard coaster once more, working a nail beneath the top layer to peel it back slowly and deliberately. She doesn’t look up when she asks: “How long have you known me?”
“Longer than you’ve known me, I’d warrant. You ever been to a place called Salalah?”
At that, Leah’s brow furrows deeply. She begins to speak — “No” — but stops, and her hands grow still. She glances up at Holden, still frowning.
Just then, the waitress returns. She’s got a white paper condiment cup full of mayonnaise, and even brought a butter knife wrapped in a napkin, both of which she sets in front of Holden with a smile. “Here you go,” she says, and discreetly checks the levels of their drinks. Satisfied, she leans back and asks, “How’s the f–”
“Everything’s fine,” Leah interrupts. “We’re cool. Thanks.”
The waitress clearly gets the message that she’s not wanted, and leaves.
He looks at her with mock severity. “That wasn’t very polite.”
Leah laughs quietly. “You the etiquette police or something?”
He shrugs. “What if I am? You were saying?”
“I’ve never been there. I don’t think.” She looks directly at him, but her fingers are working at that coaster, twisting and peeling it into little shreds piled beside her still full plate of salad. “But it sounds familiar.”
“I hear it’s really beautiful.” He takes another bite of his juicy burger. “Exotic and interesting.”
Leah drops the coaster on the table and shoves at his leg. “I need to use the little girl’s room.”
He moves over to let her pass. “Be my guest.”
She walks away, pausing on the way to touch the waitress’ arm and speak with her for a moment. The older woman nods and Leah continues on her way.
While Holden waits for Leah he pinches a crouton off her plate and scarfs it.
When the blonde woman reemerges, she’s tucking her cell phone into the pocket of her jeans. She stops by the bar, where the waitress is just turning away with four shots on her tray. Leah smiles as she picks them up between her fingers, and returns to the table. She sets two in front of Holden. “JD okay?”
He grins at her. “JD sounds just fine with me,” he says, pulling out his carton of smokes. “Think she’ll let me smoke in here?”
“You’re really a troublemaker, aren’t you?” Leah asks. She picks up one of the shots. “You wanna do these and then we can step outside for you to smoke?”
“Suits me,” he says and picks up the shot glass.
“What’re we toasting to?” She smiles at him.
He drums his fingers on the table, considering. “How about… to friends, let them never be forgotten.”
Leah starts laughing. “You’re a funny motherfucker, Holden.”
He grins widely. “Not going to deny that.” He clinks classes with her and downs the shot.
She downs hers as well, and immediately picks up the next. “And this one…” She looks at the amber liquor. “To not remembering all the things worth forgetting.”
He raises an eyebrow, then nods. “Sounds good to me.”
She taps the rim of her glass to his and quickly takes the shot. “Time for a smoke.”
He jumps out of his seat. “Aprez vous, madame,” he says, bowing low.
She slides out of the booth. “You know,” she says, casting a grin over her shoulder at him as they take the stairs up to the exit, “I know why guys want to walk behind girls.”
“It’s because we’re gentlemen,” he says, standing straight.
“And you like the view.” She pushes open the door leading to an alleyway between the gastropub and an old factory, holding it open for him.
“Danke.” He steps out into the cold night, rubbing his hands together, then opening the pack of cigarettes. He takes two out, offering one to Leah.
She accepts the cigarette. “Is this even real?” she asks as she puts it between her lips and waits for him to light it.
He lights it, then his own. “Define real,” he says, after a long drag.
She leans back against the wall, gesturing casually as she speaks. “Is it going to give me lung cancer?” She’s a sloppy smoker; this isn’t a habit. “Or is it just a piece of you?”
“Somehow, I don’t think you’re worried about cancer.” He pauses, then looks at her. “But no, you’re not going to get cancer.”
“You’re right, I’m worried about this turning into goo when you walk away.” She touches her fingers to her breastbone… but continues smoking anyhow.
“So you’re saying you want me to stay close?”
She looks sidelong at him. “You’re the one pursuing me, Holden.”
“Well then I guess that’d be to my advantage.”
She watches people pass by. “Where’s Salalah?”
“Middle East,” he says. “Never been there myself, but… heard it’s nice.”
“Why would you ask me?”
“Call it… curiosity.” He blows out a cloud of smoke.
Leah takes another drag, but chokes on it and starts coughing. Casting an accusatory look at Holden, as if it’s somehow totally his fault she sucks at smoking, she covers her mouth with the back of her sweater-clad arm.
He looks sideways at her, really watching her. “See the thing is… you have been there.”
“Listen,” she says, once she gets the coughing under control, “you know I have a shitty memory. What’s the point of telling me this?”
“Because,” he says, shrugging, “it’s easier than doing it this way.”
Leah’s phone chimes, but she ignores it and asks warily, “What way? What are you talking about?”
In a single movement, he throws his cigarette to the ground and lunges at her. By the time his palm connects with her nose, his form has shifted to that of Taqlid.
Leah wasn’t expecting that, but even as she doubles over with the pain of that hit, blood pouring out of her nose, she reaches for Taqlid’s shoulders. Her hands are hot, and she seeks out the solidity of those bones just beneath the skin, trying to shatter them. “What the fuck are you doing?” she screams.
He rolls out of the way, coming up behind her and kneeing her in the small of the back. Taqlid’s voice is calm. “Making you remember.”
Part three is here: http://averygoodyear.net/writing/november-20th-conclusion/
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