Andreas takes a sip of coffee, then smiles and says, “We’ll see, won’t we? Now, what do you need to know for your song? Really, there’s no need to write a new one. We’d be perfectly happy with a song from one of your albums.”
“Absolutely not,” J says. “I want to give this to you.” Then he starts his questioning predictably, pen in hand. “Tell me how you met.”
Andreas smiles with even more intensity; remarkably, he’s not tired of this question. “I admired a scarf she was wearing,” he says. “I thought it was a vintage Yves Saint Laurent—it looked like the wings of a butterfly. As you know, I don’t ordinarily have an eye toward clothing, but this caught my attention. I didn’t even register how beautiful the woman wearing the scarf was until I caught her looking at me. I told her I admired her scarf, and she told me it had been her grandmother’s. Before I knew it, we were going for a drink. It’s a very old-fashioned way to meet someone! But I suppose that’s to be expected for someone like me.”
“And now...how does she make you feel?”
“Good. Happy. Very happy.”
J shakes his head. “I need a little more than that. Something more personal.”
“I mean, what can I say that hasn’t been said a thousand times before?”
“Try.” J takes out his phone and puts on the timer. “I want you to talk about it for three minutes. Just say whatever comes into your head. Are you ready?”
He knows Andreas won’t say no.
“Sure. Has it started? Okay. Um...she makes me laugh? But she’s not one of those people who makes you laugh because she’s shooting someone else down. Or herself. No, it’s just the way she sees the world is a little bit off from mine or anyone else’s, and when she shares what she sees with me, it’s really funny because it’s absolutely true, in a way I never saw before. And maybe she makes me that way, too. Like, when I focus on her, it clears away the noise. There’s so much noise all the time, and a lot of the time, it drowns me out. I’m not the kind of guy who yells, who sayshey, look at me!No, if you want to get to me, you have to really clear the path.
And that’s what she does. It’s not like anyone else I’ve been with, the way that path is clear. When we’re alone, we’re not competing with the outside world and we’re not competing with each other. That brings out the best in me, I guess. Or at least the part of me I like the most. I’m making her sound like she’s this Zen person—you’ll meet her, she’s not. But—let me put it this way. Everything’s in the right place with her. It’s unique and it’s unusual and maybe it’s not perfectly balanced, but nothing’s a mess. When you’re with someone like that, and when the two of you have complementary notions...I guess I can put it in musical terms, can’t I? We have harmony. But I also get to hear her melody, and she gets to hear mine, and it’s the most honest, clearest melody I’ve ever made. For her ears only. Is that time?”
“Yes, you were a little over. But I wanted to hear where you’d go. And I promise you, it wasn’t something that’s been said a thousand times before. The feeling underneath, sure. But not those particular words in that particular order.”
J admires how pure Andreas’s feelings seem. He also thinks Andreas is a fool—hasn’t he ever been hurt by love before? Maybe this is his first serious relationship, and therefore his first serious potential heartbreak. J doesn’t want to be the guy to warn him. But he also hopes someone does warn him.
“Is something the matter?” Andreas asks.
“No, just had an idea for the song,” J covers. He is awful enough a person to blatantly lie, but not so awful as to submerge Andreas in his own treacherous depths on the eve of his wedding.
“That’s so exciting,” Andreas says. “You’re so kind to do this.”
J looks down at his notebook. While Andreas was speaking, he jotted down a few words, but he’s not sure yet if there’s anything he can particularly use.
He thinks of the other questions he could ask.
What makes you so sure?
How can you possibly know?
What will you do if it doesn’t work out?
Why risk so much pain?
Yes, he wants these answers. But he also knows they won’t do him much good unless it’s V answering.
In his silver cigarette case, J sees his distorted self and thinks it’s a pretty accurate reflection.
“What would you miss the most about her if she were gone?” he asks. Immediately, he wants to take it back, but it’s too late.
“Myself,” Andreas replies. “I imagine I’d miss myself. The person I’ve become without the noise.”
“You know this already? How long has it been?”
“Eight months. And, yes, I know this already. Isn’t that remarkable?”
Eight months,J thinks.You can spend years in a relationship chasing after where you were at eight months.
He remembers what it was like with V around that time. Navigating between their two apartments. If V mentioned a favorite movie that J hadn’t seen, they’d watch it that night. If J was going out of town, he’d leave her with a favorite book of his, to “keep her company.” Sometimes he’d take a second copy with him, and they’d talk about it when he got back. (Not the same as reading it to each other over the phone, but he puts that out of mind.)
