Page 6 of Serenade Me

She catches her chin, just before it falls and clenches her jaw and purses her lips instead. I can see the fight building in her eyes just like I can feel it growing in me. What is it about her that’s making me so confrontational? I don’t have much time to contemplate it before she responds.

“Oh really? You think you understand how wood thinks?”

“Parts of me are very familiar with the properties of wood, yes,” I say suggestively, giving her a deliberate wink that I know she will find infuriating.

Instead, she nods slowly, before responding. “I’m sorry, you must have misunderstood. When I said ‘wood,’ I didn’t mean a splinter,” she says and lowers her eyes to stare pointedly at my groin.

Ouch. Sly wench, I can’t help thinking to myself, trying not to let it show on my face.

“Yes, it seems we have have misunderstood each other. I was actually trying to initiate a conversation by being friendly and polite. It’s completely my fault that I didn’t know that you wouldn’t recognize manners.”

“My mistake, I guess I shouldn’t let you take all the blame. I didn’t realize in your world splinter-sized… things are to be proud of and clearing your throat three times is considered polite. In my world, I’d rather you kept your throat mucus to yourself.”

“Had a lot of experience with throat mucus in the past have you?”

“Not until today, no, thankfully. Believe it or not.”

“Oh, I believe it, it’s not at all hard to swallow.”

“You must hear that a lot.”

“On the contrary. You’d be surprised.”

“Actually, no, I doubt there’s anything about you that would surprise me too much.” With that, she gives a wave of her hand as if dismissing me and the entire conversation.

And as fun as it’s been, I can hear the band getting set up behind me. Time to cut and run, I tell myself. I give her a small finger salute and turn and walk away.

Then something, something makes me turn back.

Maybe it’s this inexplicable need to get the last word in. Maybe it’s just to prolong this strange interaction a little bit longer. Or maybe it’s just for a chance to look into those other-wordly green eyes she has one last time.

She’s still looking at me, when I spin around. But she quickly looks away, back down at her bloody phone.

I make my way straight back to her, pushing the chair out the way, and lean in, my mouth close to her ear. So close I can almost feel the soft hair on her neck, standing up, brushing against my lips.

I can feel her swallow, hard, before I speak.

“Before I go, though, I thought I should tell you. I, I was actually coming here to tell you, that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, in what I thought was my godforsaken life. But now, now I know there IS a God. I came to tell you, that the line of your neck, when you look up to glance at the clock above the bar, is the most elegant thing I’ve ever seen. I came to tell you that the way your hand has been rubbing up and down the curve of your calf makes me wish that I was with you, wherever you were walking that made your legs so tired. I came to tell you that that patch of skin right there, on the back of your left wrist, reminds me of the most delicate porcelain ever produced. And that the way your lick your lips after you take a sip of your gin and tonic should be considered illegal, and that no human being can be responsible for anything he says or does after seeing it. I came to tell you that you make me believe that the universe has plans for us all, and that everything leading up to this moment was to make sure that right now, right at this very second, I would be standing here. And you sitting there. And for us to be finally meeting, face to face. And for me to tell you, that my life starts now.”

I don’t move.

I just breathe, heavily. Having barely taken a breath since I started talking.

And I just wait.