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There was a great pit of despair inside of me, and I felt it flare open, given life by his nearness, fed by his proximity, growing every second I let him close enough to breathe my air.
Just then it felt big enough to lose myself in.
“Excuse me,” I told him tersely, and fled into the reception.
The place was packed. The good news about that was I didn’t even see a familiar face at first so I was free to move about, ignoring the strangers to my little anti-social heart’s content.
I heard noises coming from one of the large parlors and I knew instantly what it was.
The house was old, but they’d still done a halfway decent job converting one of the larger parlors into a makeshift theatre.
On the screen they were playing one of Gram’s old movies.
I’d been afraid to watch any of them since I’d heard the news, even though I loved them all. I’d thought it would make me too sad.
But as I saw her beautiful face on screen, so young then, I felt only comfort.
She was immortalized.
And this role in particular suited her. She was playing what she would have called a wicked, wicked woman, and she threw out one sassy line after another in grand Gram style.
It was everything. I took an empty seat toward the back of the room and ate it up.
I don’t know how long I sat there before a man sat down in the chair beside me.
I shot him a glance and found him studying me.
“Have we met before?” he asked me.
I gave him a second look. He was an older man with a kindly face. “I don’t think so. Were you a friend of Gram’s, I mean Vivian’s?”
Something slipped into his eyes, some bit of dawning recognition that was odd to me. It hit me in a strange and troubling way.
“Oh,” he said very quietly. “I recall now. I treated you once. I’m a doctor.”
My brow furrowed. “I don’t believe so.”
“I-I’m terribly sorry. You’re right. Please forget that I ever brought it up.”
And with that he stood up and left the room, looking harried and I don’t even know what.
As he walked out, Dante walked in. The men saw each other, each briefly pausing, steps faltering before they both nodded and continued on their way.
“Who was that?” I asked Dante when he, predictably, sat down beside me.
His whole face closed off. “Some old friend of Gram’s, why?”
“He said he was a doctor and that he’d treated me once,” my voice trailed off and I looked away as realization struck. “Never mind,” I muttered.
Dante squeezed my hand, and for a second, I let him before pulling away.
I nodded at the screen. “This is my favorite part,” I said weakly.
“Mine too.”
“I could stay in here all day.”
“Let’s,” he replied.
