Leaving the Comfort Cafe (20 page)

“This is Luke, you know.”

“Yeah,” she grinned. “I know.” Austin couldn’t tell if Kerry was sorry or relieved.

“If, um…” he tried to change the subject. “If you get too hot or too cold, just um…” He gestured to the dashboard controls.

“Thanks.” She yawned again. “I’m going to call the hotel and tell them that we’re checking in earlier than I thought.”

Austin strained to hear any evidence of whether or not the room had two beds or one, but he couldn’t decipher anything from her conversation.

“Actually, mind if I charge this?” Kerry somehow produced from her person a cell phone car charger.

“Sure.”

She plugged it into the cigarette lighter and then yawned again.

“Why don’t you take a nap?”

“Nah, I wanted to do some catching up with you,” she said.

“We’ve got all weekend. Just relax.”

“I’ll stretch out,” she pulled her seat back. She lay there for a long time until Austin realized that her breathing had become slower and more deliberate, until he could pick up on the faintest trace of a snore.

They arrived in Charleston just as the Market was closing and the restaurants were gearing up for their finest clientele. Austin had never been to Charleston, but it was spoken of in small circles with almost a slight lilt on the tongue. Charleston, South Carolina. You couldn’t even say it without sounding Southern.

Kerry had slept for most of the trip, which was fine with him; he was careful not to play the radio or do anything that might wake her and turn their conversation toward Blythe. When she woke, she yanked down the sunshade on the passenger side and looked into the vanity mirrors. She drew a small compact from a pocketbook that seemed to be bigger than she was.

Dear God, has she always been this thin?

She gave a few small powders of her nose and then straightened in her seat, rattling off the address of the hotel from a crumpled printout from Mapquest.com that she had stuffed in her purse.

The valet parked Austin’s truck as he loaded the bags onto one of the luggage carriers. They could’ve tipped the bellhop and gotten him to do it, but for some reason, it made Austin feel manly. Like he was looking out for her when the entire world didn’t.

They arrived in the hotel room, which Austin thought was surprisingly small. He was relieved to find there were two beds.

“Hm,” Kerry said. “Two beds.”

He couldn’t tell if she was pleased or disappointed. He analyzed her tone and the rhythm of her voice over and over in his mind, and he was sure it would become an obsession of his for the duration of their time in Charleston.

“Let me freshen up, and we’ll grab a bite to eat,” Kerry said.

“Sure.” Austin cast a wary eye on her, as if afraid she was going in the bathroom to throw up or take a diet pill.

When Kerry was out of sight, and hopefully out of earshot, it was his chance to call Blythe.

“Yes?” She sounded as if she was expecting him, though he knew the phone at the Comfort Café had no caller ID.

“Is everything all right?”

“It’s fine.”

“I wanted to ask if you were having a good time.”

“We just got here.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I meant to tell you, I have a cousin who owns an art gallery down there. Winged Specials. That’s the name of it. It’s down on King Street. It’s in the phone book, I’m sure. I think Kerry would like it.”

“Okay. Um…Blythe.”

“And a ghost tour. You have to take a ghost tour while you’re down there,” she said. Blythe laid on the sweetness. Like when someone is extremely, overly nice to you and you know that secretly, they actually want to kill you.

“Can we talk about this when I get back?”

“Did you know Charleston is considered to be the most haunted city in the nation? Wow. I mean, can you get over that? Can you imagine what it would be like to have something haunting at you? Just nagging at your conscience?”

“I’ve got to go, I’ll call you back.”

“You don’t owe anything to anybody.”

He wasn’t sure if the phone lost its signal or if she hung up on him. He didn’t want to know. Kerry came out of the bathroom with a fresh dash of lipstick, and they headed to the Southern history that was Charleston.

They ate at a place called Queen 32-40. It was located a few blocks from the hotel, down a narrow street that was decorated with tiny white lights, making the entire outdoor patio look like Christmas. The houses along this street had narrow fronts and long sides that stretched down the alleys, making quaint curves and elegant alcoves for statutes and fancy birdbaths. Austin couldn’t remember, but he thought it had something to do with the tax valuation at one time being based on street frontage. He wasn’t sure.

The bill of fare was the she-crab soup, a Charleston specialty. He had no idea why it was called she-crab soup. Maybe the he-crabs were just able to run faster.

The walls were littered with tasteful, autographed photos of the famous people who had visited the restaurant. Austin started to order veal, but he was afraid Kerry would find it very un-PC, so instead he ordered the soup and crab cakes. Surely there couldn’t be any problem with crab cakes.

He was relieved when she ordered a steak and a side salad, and then they split a bottle of wine.

“It’s just like what they said to me,” she said.

“What?” Austin refilled her glass.

“It’s like a dream. I mean, the architecture, the carriages, the specialty food, the lights. It’s all like something from a movie. Like you just wake up and find yourself staring into a dream.”

“I wonder if you lived here, if it would lose its charm. When I was little, I always wanted to live at the beach because that’s where we vacationed. My mom gently reminded me that even though you live at the beach, you still have to take out the trash, go to school, pay taxes and you’ll still have crappy days at work.”

“I guess.” Kerry looked out the window and swirled the wine around gently in her glass.

“What ever…” He started to say what ever happened to us, but then he wondered if there really was an “us,” or if that was just some figment of his post-college imagination.

“Yes?”

“What ever…I mean, we used to be so close. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“But I missed you from the moment I saw you. It’s like I always wanted to be around you. To hang out with you. I took that stupid acting class because of you. Then we graduate and you head off to find your dreams, and I stick around for something safe. What I’m trying to say is that I wanted to go to New York. Dear God, I wanted to go so bad.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I was afraid, I guess.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Everything. You, me, everybody, the whole world. You never asked me to go with you, and I didn’t know if that was a hint or if you just wanted me to show up on your doorstep and surprise you one day,” he said.

“Who is this rebound girl? Some flaky chick you brought to the alumni event. That’s what Luke said.”

“He did?”

“I didn’t know if he meant it or if he was just trying to see what he could meddle with. You know Luke.”

“Regrettably, I do.”

“When he told me about how well you were doing, what a great time you were having, I started thinking, who is he talking about? That can’t be Austin. That can’t be the shy guy who lived a few doors down from me.”

“Why not?”

“I guess I never thought you’d ever come out of that shell, you know. You always had this air about you like something that had been broken and put back together with cheap glue. You were comfortable in your comic book world, but that was it. Even then, I had to prod you to send it out. You wanted to just hide away from everything.”

“Where’d you get that impression?”

“The way you never looked me in the eye for more than three seconds at a time. The way you walked with your gaze looking at your shoes as if your feet were suddenly going to start running off without you. The way…I couldn’t believe you wanted to go into town administration. I mean, it just didn’t seem to fit your personality. But now it does. I mean, it suits you. I’m proud of you.”

“Let’s just say I’ve found working in Conyers more inspirational than I thought I would.”

“It’s like something has changed you. Has it been running a town? That sense of power? It’s like your job has brought out the best in you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

They finished the wine, paid the bill and walked back toward the hotel. On one corner, there were several horse-drawn carriages linedcccccccc up to take couples on a romantic, downtown tour. One horse and carriage must have been decorated for a wedding. The equine was wearing large, silky white ribbons in her elegant black mane. Her groomer made sure her coat had a perfect sheen, and he even stopped to twine a small rose into her reins.

Why can’t I get away from horses?

“Isn’t that beautiful? They must be having a wedding,” Kerry said.

“Must be.”
Why do women always notice the wedding stuff?

“Let’s take a carriage ride.”

“What?”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. It’s one of those things you have to do when you’re in Charleston. Or so I hear. Hey, over there!” Kerry started flagging down a hack before Austin had the chance to protest.

It wasn’t that he minded the carriage ride itself. Provided that the evening was mild, the skies clear and the horse not gassy, it would create a delightful evening. It was just…just the romantic aspect of it. These weren’t the large, trolley, tourist horse-drawn varieties. These were the special two-seaters designed for cuddling.

Kerry had already settled on a price and destination with the man before Austin gathered his thoughts. The horse, a weary, dark bay, jangled his bridle at Austin as the driver helped Kerry into the carriage. It was almost as if the horse were saying, “Tough luck, guy.” He wondered if what Blythe said about horses bringing out your true colors was true, after all.

They passed by the carriage that was getting all decked out for the wedding. The horse shook his bridle again, and Austin could have sworn it was directed at him. Kerry covered Austin’s legs with a blanket, even though it was a mild evening. Austin slowly pushed it away because it had horsehair on it, and while he didn’t think he was allergic to horses, this was not a good time to find out.

Strange that he never worried about allergies when Blythe talked about seeing the ponies.

Barely had he found his balance, when Kerry leaned her head against his shoulder. Her chin was surprisingly bony.

“Isn’t it the most beautiful city?” she said. “Wouldn’t you just love to have a little bungalow down here?”

He thought they had already covered that in the earlier conversation. “I guess.” He tried to move, but his arm was pinned by her shoulders.

“It’s great to be together again, just together, nothing but time.”

“I guess. Yeah.”

The horse turned to look at Austin, even though it had blinders on.

Kerry continued, “I would love to just paint a cityscape that started at—”

“Excuse me, sir?” Austin asked the driver.

“Yes?” The driver acted like he expected Austin to request a drive down a poorly lit street so he could make out with Kerry.

“The horse, what’s his name?”

“The horse?” The driver was surprised. “Rhett.”

“Rhett. Like in Gone with the Wind?”

“Yeah. Been with me six years,” the driver said.

Hey, I’d trade places with you, buddy.

Kerry leaned closer to him, until the top part of her forehead was resting on his cheek. Austin was glad he had not shaved that morning, and he hoped his cheeks were rough and uninviting.

“So, you don’t do ottomans anymore?” Austin was desperate for some conversation that would keep her from getting too cozy.

“Let’s not talk right now.”

Austin’s stomach started to cramp.

Why is it whenever I want to hear a woman say that, they never do? And they always choose to be quiet at the worst times.

The cobblestone streets made the carriage bump and groan. An airport taxi screeched uncomfortably close by, but Rhett seemed unfazed. In fact, Austin was quite sure Rhett could feel him squirm. Austin knew he was going to get violently ill.

“Have you…” Austin was getting desperate for anything that would keep his lips busy other than kissing. “Have you ever drawn horses?”

“Horses?”

“Yeah.”

“Not since fourth grade. Why?”

“Just wondering. A lot of people like horses.”

“I might paint them if they are a part of the Charleston scene, but not on their own. Painting horses is like—well, first, everyone can draw horses. It’s one of those things that little middle school girls doodle in-between paper margins during science class. It’s, well, it’s kind of like training wheels, don’t you think? I mean, the carriage ride is wonderfully romantic but, not because of the horse.”

“Not because of the horse?”

“No.”

“I know someone who photographs horses.”

“Well, that’s great. But it’s nothing that would sell. That stuff is so overdone anyway.” She sighed.

Austin’s arm was starting to fall asleep. Another bump caused her to lean closer, which he felt was more of a move of her own volition than the laws of motion. It was almost as if Rhett was jostling the carriage, sensing Austin’s dread. Trying to get him out of the situation.

For years I dreamed of this moment. Now it’s a nightmare.

A part of him wanted to kiss her, just to see if they had any sparks, and when the sparks failed to fly, have an easy excuse to chalk it up to the fact that the “chemistry wasn’t right.” Whatever that’s supposed to mean. But he felt if he kissed Kerry, that somehow Blythe would know, and she would never forgive him for it. Like a man who has an affair. Like a man who goes off to war. Women will still love you. They’ll still take you back. But never forgive you for it. They’ll never forgive you.

Kerry leaned in for a kiss.

Ahead, Rhett went over a pothole with uncharacteristic clumsiness.

Austin turned his head and Kerry’s lips ended up grazing the lower portion of his chin. Just an innocent peck, though by the way she lingered there, he could tell that she was hoping he would turn around and join her embrace.