Sweet Thing Read online

  Just before the poetry group arrived, I got a phone call from my mom saying she had booked a flight for Thursday of the following week.

  The café door jingled and in walked Will, wearing a cheeky grin. He was followed by a thin, gargantuan man who stood at least seven feet tall. Not eight, though. Will introduced me to Tyler. During my conversation with Will that morning, he only mentioned that he knew Tyler, he didn’t say he would be at Kell’s that night. I wondered if he showed because he knew I would be there. Tyler was overly formal and polite to me; he mentioned how much Jenny loved her job and I realized that Tyler saw me as Jenny’s boss. I thought it was sweet that he was trying to impress me. Jenny came out from the back and went straight into Tyler’s insanely long arms. They seemed really happy.

  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 fucking 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?”

  Why did this guy keep losing my number? He took two little number tabs and he had already called me once. Not a very VP banker thing to do.

  “Yeah it’s fine. How are you?”

  “I’m great. So, since Jacob is with his mom this weekend, I thought we could get dinner tomorrow? I could pick you up at seven?” I said yes, even though I couldn’t tell if he was asking me or telling me.

  When I hung up, I looked over at Jenny who was eyeing me derisively.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s just, he waited until Friday to call you for a date on Saturday? I mean, the guy is good-looking and he has a good career but, I don’t know. I think…” As she fumbled over her words, I stood there looking dejected. “I’m sorry, Mia. I don’t want to ruin it for you.”

  “No, I appreciate your honesty, but I’m just having dinner with him, that’s all.” I moved to change the subject. “Hey, do you want to go see The Ivans at The Depot tonight?”

  “I can’t, Tyler is taking me out for a special dinner.” She shrugged her shoulders, like she had no idea what that meant.

  “No worries.”

  After work I decided to go see The Ivans on my own. I sat at the bar and made small talk with the female bartender while I sipped on my vodka-soda-cran. A crowd of scantily clad twenty-one-year-olds started forming in front of the stage just as the band began to play. The set they played was similar to the one I’d seen before, except they slipped in a new instrumental song about halfway through.

  Pete introduced the song. “This is a song I’m working on. I’m still looking for that magic inspiration to write some lyrics—maybe one of you ladies can help me out?”

  “Woohoos” and “yeah, babys” came from the group of bimbos at the front. I recognized the music right away; it was the song I heard through the ceiling at Sam’s.
The song was beautiful and evocative, even without lyrics. Will’s solo wasn’t the typical solo; it was slow, bluesy, and delicate. His adroit hands played it without hesitation. During that song, Will looked out to the audience for the first time. Within two seconds his eyes met mine.

  After the show, he set his guitar down and walked through the crowd toward me. I saw him thanking people who were high-fiving and patting him on the back. When he reached the bar, he looked around before speaking. “Hey, thanks for coming. Are you alone?” I nodded my head. “How’d you get here?”

  “Subway.”

  He narrowed his eyes. There was long pause and then he looked back toward the stage and waved goodbye to the rest of the band. “Ready?” He said as he stuck his hand out for me to take.

  “What? I can get home on my own. Don’t you want to stay with the guys?”

  He shook his head slightly. “No, I’m done and we’re going to the same place. Might as well go together, right?” He was uncharacteristically serious.

  “What about your guitar?”

  “Dustin will get it.”

  “Ok.” I took his hand. As he led me toward the door, I looked back at the stage and saw Nate watching us. A tiny smirk played on his face.

  We walked toward the subway, still hand in hand. When I gently removed my hand from his, he turned around and smiled. His expression said You’re cute, but we’re just holding hands. Again, I thought I needed to keep things straight.

  “You guys were good tonight, except Pete. He still sucks.”

  “Yeah, I can’t believe that guy. The new song is not his. It’s so not his!”

  “He’s such…” At the same time we both snapped out, “An assclown!”

  Will laughed and grabbed my hand, pulling me onto the subway train. It was crowded and there were no seats open, so we stood near the door. He held onto the bar above his head as he leaned over me. He might have been sweating all night, but he still had the yummy Will smell with just a hint of muskiness. It was arousing. We stood two inches apart, facing each other. I held onto the pole next to me with one hand and gripped Will’s free arm with my other. The way Will stood over me, with his head dropped down slightly, made me feel protected. I could feel his breath on my neck.

  “Mia,” he said, just loud enough for me to hear. “At night… don’t ride the subway alone, okay?” I nodded my head and then closed the two-inch gap.

  Once inside the apartment, we both headed toward our rooms. We paused at the end of the hall and turned toward each other. With a wink Will said, “Night, Roomy.”

  “Night, Will.”

  Saturday morning, Will was gone before I got up. I got dressed and grabbed Jackson’s leash to take him out. Normally the moment I touched the leash, the eighty-pound dog would practically leap into my arms, but that morning he wouldn’t budge from his doggy pillow. I tried to move him; he just sat there staring sadly at me. It was clear he wasn’t feeling well. I thought about taking him to the vet, but he was thirteen and I’d had a bad experience at the vet with my last dog. I decided to make him comfortable and cook up some chicken and rice for him. By two p.m., Jackson was up and about, almost back to himself. By four he was ready for a run through the park. The little episode scared me, but it seemed to be over as quickly as it started.

  Robert and I had a dinner at a fancy French restaurant. It was unusually hot for May in New York, so I wore a gray pleated skirt and a white, sleeveless, button-down blouse. I’m not going to lie, it was a tad naughty schoolgirl, but I wasn’t going for that. I felt underdressed at dinner until Robert complimented my outfit. I decided to let my insecurities go. He was dressed in a gray suit with a white shirt and striped tie, it looked a little too business-professional for a date, but it was a nice suit and he looked handsome. We had the most mind-numbingly boring conversation about hedge funds while I swirled my soup around and Robert devoured steak frits and foie gras… yuck!

  I will say that Robert was a true gentleman at dinner. He had exemplary manners and even though I certainly wasn’t hanging on his every word, I thought his enthusiasm about banking was cute.

  Afterward, he hailed a cab and rode back to the East Village with me. When we reached my building he told the cabby to wait so he could walk me to the door. I asked him to come in. I figured Will was playing a wedding since he’d been gone all day. When we entered the apartment, it was dark and I was relieved when Jackson came to greet us. Will was gone but he had obviously come home because there was a Wurlitzer 200A electric piano resting against the wall next to the front door. I spotted a note on the counter:

  NATE WAS GETTING RID OF THE WURLY AND I

  THOUGHT YOU COULD HAVE SOME FUN WITH IT.

  Robert saw me smile at Will’s thoughtfulness. “What’s that all about?”

  “My roommate Will is a musician and he brought this electric piano home for me.”

  “Will?” I think he was surprised I had male roommate.

  “Yeah, Will. We’re just friends,” I said.

  “Is he like the starving artist type or what?”

  I scoffed and then told Robert that Will was a talented musician who played in a band that was going nowhere because of the lead singer was terrible. I said he was a hard worker who deserved to have a successful music career in some capacity. Robert disregarded anything positive by shrugging. Apparently my speaking in a complimentary way of another male toyed with his ego.

  I changed the subject to my life in Ann Arbor, which was much more Robert’s speed. I let him follow me to my room so I could show him a picture of my mom.

  “She’s beautiful, like you,” he said as he leaned in to kiss me. He wasn’t a bad kisser, it just seemed like his tongue was really big. My head was not where it should have been. I was thinking about the logistics of the kiss instead of enjoying it. I pulled his body into mine as I leaned back on top of the short dresser and ran my hands up behind his head, letting my fingers move through his hair. The moment intensified as he unbuttoned the top three buttons of my blouse so my lacy bra peeked out. Our kiss went deeper, then his mouth went to the crook in my neck and I moaned appreciatively. He grabbed my leg behind my knee, hitching it up as he slowly ran his hand under my thigh to my bottom, lifting my skirt in the process. It felt good to have a man’s hand on my ass.

  “Knock, knock,” Will said, standing in the open doorway. We abruptly stopped and took a step away from each other. I adjusted my skirt and looked down at my open shirt, deciding I would draw more attention to it if I tried to button it up. “Sorry to interrupt. Shall I close this door for you?” Will asked, expressionless. He looked directly at me when he spoke, never once glancing at Robert.

  “No, no.” I looked at Robert.

  He looked back inquisitively. “Do you want me to go?”

  I shrugged and gave him a look like sorry, but yes. “I’ll call you about Jacob’s lesson?”

  He nodded. I turned away from him and came face to face with Will, who for some reason was still standing in my doorway. I mouthed “What?” and gave him a dirty look. His lips curled up into a ridiculous grin.

  I shook my head and decided it needed to be done. “Will, this is Robert. Robert, meet Will, my roommate.”

  Will smiled genially and reached out to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, man.”

  “Likewise.” Robert eyed Will. By his look I guessed he hadn’t expected my live-in “just friend” to be so good-looking.

  Will reached over and hugged me, then let his mouth brush my cheek. “Night, Mia,” he whispered. I shivered. He put his hands on my shoulders and stared at my face for a second too long. His smile had faded. It was the first time I saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. His hands slid down my arms slowly and then he turned and shuffled almost aimlessly across the hall and into his room, closing the door without making even the smallest sound.

  “Is he always that affectionate… and strange?” I heard Robert ask, but I was a million miles away, thinking about the pained look on Will’s face. �
�Mia?”

  “What? Oh yes, he’s very affectionate.”

  “Oh, is he?”

  “Yes, I mean no. No, no, we’re just friends,” I said, trying to sound convincing even though I wasn’t sure I believed the words myself.

  After Robert left, I hoped that Will would come out of his room, but he didn’t and I couldn’t bring myself to knock on his door. I wanted to thank him for the Wurly and apologize for the awkward moment, but I didn’t get to.

  The next day was extremely hot out. I worried about Jackson in the apartment. At noon, I decided to go check on him. He greeted me at the door and I was relieved again. I leaned against the counter in the kitchen to listen to the muffled voices and music coming from Will’s room. I watched as a very petite woman came strolling down the hallway. She looked to be about fifty years old and she was either wearing a very short dress or she had no pants on. Her eyes were caked with a ton of dark makeup and she wore way too much silver jewelry. If it weren’t for her inappropriate attire and slightly haggard appearance, I would have thought she was pretty. She made her way to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

  “Hi, I’m Teeny.” She smiled and stuck her hand out.

  “I’m Mia. You’re a friend of Will’s, I take it?”

  “Yeah, we’re friends,” she said seductively.

  Bile began to rise in my throat. “Enjoy your beer, Teeny,” I said before heading to my room. As I passed Will’s room I looked in. He was sitting on the windowsill with one leg inside and one leg out. He was smoking. He turned and looked at me impassively. I waited to see some sign on his face. It was hard to tell anything from his look, except maybe indifference like, Can I help you, or What are you staring at? Without a word, I went into my room and shut the door to collect myself. Moments later I heard Will and Teeny giggling and then I heard a little scream from Teeny. I decided to bolt out of there and head back to the café. I couldn’t help but glance back into Will’s open doorway as I passed. He was giving Teeny a piggyback ride, hopping around like a fucking asshat. Teeny was spinning an imaginary lasso like she was going to rope a calf. I dry heaved and then shot down the hallway and out the door.