A Kind of Truth (4 page)

THE FOLLOWING
morning I headed out at the crack of dawn to Bowery Bagels. My friends thought I was nuts for taking a lameass job selling bagels for minimum wage. The early-morning hours were not conducive to a rock-and-roll lifestyle. Partying until three and waking up at five to politely inquire whether a customer wanted their bagel toasted with cream cheese separate or on the side sounded… well, like hell. But there was a method to my madness. I knew myself. I was disciplined as long as I had perimeters. If I gave myself too much freedom, my friends would be fighting over whose turn it was to carry my sorry ass home from the bar.

My tendency to test limits was probably a by-product of my somewhat bohemian upbringing. My folks were awesome, but they didn’t care about rules. They taught my sister and me to always question authority and push boundaries. Rules didn’t apply unless they were a matter of life, death, or what they called “social harmony.” I was a cocky bastard who was certain I had rights far beyond anything I’d earned or deserved by age fourteen. I was sure my opinion counted. There were far too many stupid adults on the planet. Period. I was convinced I was correct when Seth’s dad beat the crap out of him after he caught us kissing in their basement when we were fifteen. Who the fuck did shit like that? I was enraged. Seth was placed with a foster family when it became clear his parents weren’t going to accept their son and might in fact pose a physical threat to him.

If this was so-called adult behavior, I wanted no part of it. Seth and I rebelled in every possible way. We formed a band, stayed out way too late, took drugs, drank, and screwed like rabbits. My parents shrugged and handed me condoms and a key to the house, while Seth’s first foster family complained until he was moved to the next. By age seventeen, even I could tell we were on a path to nowhere. I began rethinking my stance on rules, discipline, and what the hell “social harmony” meant. It occurred to me I could set my own boundaries with a goal in mind. Goal number one was to graduate from high school. If I didn’t want to be a dropout, I had to study. And get some fucking sleep once in a while.

When Seth moved on to model in Italy after graduation, it was time for me to think about what came next. What was I going to do with my life? Easy… I wanted to be a rock-and-roll star. I wanted to have a voice in music. Sure, it was a lofty aspiration, but channeling my anger, fear, and a desire to right the world’s injustice into something positive was a better plan for me than working at my parents’ all-natural food store. Music was the key. I met Cory, Tim, and our previous guitarist, Perry, at community college, and the rest, as they say, was history. Well, sort of. Now we had Terry instead of Perry. And we hadn’t exactly made history, but I was more determined than ever to keep focused. No crazy partying and no unnecessary distractions, which in my case meant no relationships. With men or women. Discipline and hard work with minimal complication was the way to go. It was up to me to mold the band’s future if we were going to have one. So for now, going to bed at a reasonable hour and waking up early was a good thing.

I pulled my beanie over my ears and shivered at the sudden gust of icy wind. Who was I trying to kid? This wasn’t good for anyone. No one in their right mind needed a fucking bagel at five thirty in the morning. I knocked on the back door and waited for my boss to open it for me before my fingers froze.

“Good morning, Randall! Wanna cup o’ coffee?”

George was always so damn chipper in the morning. I curled my lips in what I hoped passed for a smile, then followed him through the back room into the store. “Sounds good. Thanks, Mr. G.”

George Gulden was a sixth-generation bagel maker. The old man had an encyclopedic knowledge on all things having to do with carbs. Bowery Bagels was a successful family-owned chain with stores throughout the five boroughs. All but one of George’s four sons ran or managed the other locations, but this store on Bowery, a few blocks from NYU, was his baby. The original. People, including gourmet food tours, came from far and wide to sample his odd blends of cream cheese with savory bagels. I honestly didn’t get it. It was a fucking bagel. A good one, but geesh…. Only in New York, I mused as I donned my apron and washed my hands. The secret had to be the owner. George was one of the nicest men I’d ever met. He greeted his regulars by name and was sure to ask after family members and friends. I’d worked for him for less than three months but already felt like I’d known him forever.

He regaled me with a story about his granddaughter’s ballet recital the night before with the joyful countenance of someone pleased with his life. Bagels surely wouldn’t be my path, but I wanted a piece of that kind of contentment someday. It would be cool to look back on my life when I was in my seventies and be grateful for the journey rather than worrying about wrong turns or regrets.

“And what did you do last night?”

I gave him a mischievous grin as I filled the wire baskets with fresh-baked bagels from the kitchen.

He wasn’t fooled. “What did you really do?”

I chuckled. “Nothing much, George. I practiced, had dinner with my friends, and went to a bar for one measly drink before going to bed.”

“Hmph. You need to find someone.”

“I don’t think so. Not now.”

“Everyone needs a companion. There’s a nice girl, just about your age, who comes in most mornings—maybe she’ll come by today. I’ll keep my eyes peeled,” he said with a wink before turning to greet the tiny, white-haired woman buried in a giant North Face coat. “Hello, Mrs. Schaefer! Good morning. How are you today?”

I shook my head at the short, balding old man with twinkling dark eyes and a ready smile. Hopefully he’d forget his quest to find me a girlfriend. And hopefully this morning would go by quickly. Nothing sounded better than climbing back in bed right now.

AT TEN
o’clock, I untied my apron and waved to George, who was deep in conversation about sightseeing in the city with a massive guy from Minnesota. My shift was over, and though I no longer craved sleep, I was ready to move on. I grabbed my coat and scarf from the stockroom and was heading back to the counter when George called my name. He stood in the doorway, gesturing for me to hurry.

“What’s up? I’m gonna get going.”

“I have someone for you to meet.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mr. G….”

“She’s here! The girl I was telling you about. Come say hello. That’s all I ask.”

I blew out a long breath and followed him into the shop. He was still talking excitedly as though he assumed I’d be anxious to meet some chick who was roughly my age and ate bagels every day.

“I want you to meet Kelsey….”

I held my hand out to greet the pretty young woman with long brown hair and a friendly smile but stopped short when I saw the guy standing just behind her near the front door. George motioned between the girl and me, giving a brief intro before turning to the next person in line. Will and I stared at each other in surprise. Seeing him here was out of context. I recovered first.

“Hey. Uh… did you order?” I asked Will.

“Yeah. I…. Do you work here?”

When Kelsey coughed to get my attention and asked to place her order, I was the one turning beet-red. That was a first.

“I’m so sorry. What can I get you?” I wrote down her order distractedly, but I kept an eye on Will. Damn, he looked good. He was wearing a navy beanie and a long, navy wool coat. He looked smart and professional in a collegiate sort of way. And those glasses. Very nice.

“William, your order is ready,” Mr. G yelled from across the crowded store.

“Thank you, George,” he said politely as he reached for his to-go order in a brown paper bag.

“Wait! I’m off now. Hang on a sec, okay?” My tone was a little manic. Will cocked his head curiously before nodding. I breathed a sigh of relief and glanced back at Kelsey. “Your order will be right up. Nice to meet you.”

I raced to the back room to look for my coat and realized a moment later I was wearing it already. What was my deal? I was acting like a nervous high school kid. I sprinted toward the door in my haste to be on my way.

“Later, Mr. G!”

“I’ll see you Monday morning, Randall. Have a good weekend!”

Will’s mouth twitched slightly at the corner. “Randall?”

I huffed a short laugh as we stepped onto the sidewalk. “No. Just Rand. He likes Randall better, I guess. I go along with it ’cause it’s too much work to correct him every day. Which way you going?”

“To campus. I usually grab something here before I head to class.”

“So you live nearby?”

“Yeah, a block away.” He gestured vaguely behind us but gave me a sharp sideways glance. “I didn’t know you worked for George. I stop by Bowery Bagel all the time.”

“Hmm. I thought I mentioned it,” I replied with a shrug. “I’m there three or four mornings a week. You must come by after nine. By this time, I’m usually back in bed, trying to squeeze in a couple more hours of sleep. One of George’s helpers was out sick today, so I stayed ’til the rush hour frenzy died down. What the hell is it with people and their bagels?” I furrowed my brow and made a funny face.

Will’s winning smile was timed to perfection. A sliver of sunshine broke through the clouds, sending a golden glow over his rosy cheeks. I couldn’t help returning the gesture, though I wasn’t sure what we were smiling about. I looked for a trace of glitter or a hint of leftover makeup, but other than the fact the guy in the blond wig and the bright blue dress had a gorgeous mouth and bit his lip too, I couldn’t find a connection. My overactive imagination had obviously been hard at work last night.

Now I was simply happy to be with Will. It was an over-the-top sentiment, but it rang true. To meet him unexpectedly in an environment that didn’t require an instrument was surprisingly… nice.

“George’s are legendary.” Will raised his eyebrows as he opened the paper bag and peered inside. He made a show of smelling the contents before neatly closing the bag again.

I chuckled at his antics as I sidestepped around a large group of pedestrians crossing at Broadway. We continued up
Fourth Street, making small talk about the weather, warmer today than it had been all week, and the merits of buying or making your own coffee—we both recommended purchasing a to-go cup daily.

“It gets expensive, but our coffeemaker sucks. That will be my first purchase when I make a couple extra bucks. One of those crazy machines that does everything but boot up your computer in the morning. For now, I’d rather buy it than drink sludge. And don’t tell George, but I even prefer Starbucks to his.” I pointed at the familiar logo on the window on our left. “In fact, I could use a latte now. Can I buy you one?”

I willed him to say yes, though I had a sinking feeling he’d turn me down. I could tell that even after a couple lessons, he still wasn’t sure of me. I made him uncomfortable. Not something I cared about usually, but this time I did. For some weird reason I wanted Will to like me. He started to shake his head but stopped at the last moment and pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“Sure. I have an hour ’til my class starts.”

My pulse skipped a beat and my head felt… woozy. I swallowed hard as I reached for the door, willing my cool to resurface. Geez. Was I nervous? This couldn’t be good.

I waited for our drinks and clandestinely watched Will as I pretended to check my cell for messages. He stood near the front of the coffee shop, glancing around for an empty table. The messenger bag slung across his thin body was a nice accessory. He looked like a serious scholar. Not a guy who’d been dressed in blue sequins mere hours ago. I had to give myself credit for having an active imagination.

“Any seats open?” I asked, handing him his drink.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“The sun’s out now. We could sit in the park ’til you have to go to class.”

When he didn’t answer immediately, I braced myself for rejection and wondered why it mattered to me.

“Well, if you have time. If not, that’s fine too. I’ll see you next Tuesday for your lesson.” Will’s words ran together, making it difficult to discern his meaning. I understood “time,” then the hurried rush of “see you next Tuesday.” I laid a hand on his elbow and gave him a reassuring smile. His nerves made mine subside. Fuck, we were an awkward pair.

“I have time,” I said, inclining my head as I opened the door.

We were back on the sidewalk being jostled by impatient New Yorkers a moment later. The perpetual cacophony of honking and distant sirens sounded like background music and was strangely calming. All the noise and people lent a casual element to our chance encounter. It wasn’t until we reached the wrought iron gates surrounding Washington Square Park that I noticed Will had gone quiet. I led the way to one of the numerous empty benches facing the enormous circular fountain and the famous arch. The trees were bare, the fountain was dry, and the park was mostly deserted. And cold. I doubted we’d last more than fifteen minutes. Will nodded while I yammered on about the band’s upcoming gig while madly wracking my brain for something to draw him out of his shell.

“You should come by tomorrow night.” I stretched my legs in front of me and studied my boots as though lost in thought. In truth, I was more aware of him than I understood and was baffled by it. “I’ll text you the info. If you feel like it, you’ll know the scoop.”

“Okay.” He opened the paper bag, pulled out his bagel, and painstakingly unwrapped the foil. It looked like a plain toasted bagel with regular cream cheese.

“Do you get that every day?”

“Most days.” He tore off a piece of his bagel and offered it to me with a shy smile.

“Thanks.” I popped it in my mouth with a grin. “You should try the everything bagel sometime. It’s the best one. Trust me. In the past couple months, I’ve become a connoisseur. George has thirty types of bagels and just as many cream cheeses. One of his grandkids tried to talk him into naming them. But thankfully that idea was a bust. She’s five, so her suggestions were along the lines of Pretty Pony Poppy Seed and Beautiful Blueberry.” I shook my head in mock disbelief as Will chuckled.