AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The one with the wandering hands. You spent New Year’s Eve with him at the party on the beach.”
With those dozen words, I was remembering myself on that champagne-soaked Atlantic beach, spent fireworks raining through palm fronds, Claudio’s fingers working their way under the flimsy little straps of my tight, white New Year’s dress, his mouth on mine.
Game, set, match, Nao Kao.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
If he judgedthe decisions I made, whether they pertained to him or Jake, or even the deal with the devil I had once made that kept me working for a boss who ogled and pawed at me for far longer than I should have, he kept the judgments to himself. He offered mild praise for my professional successes, and directed the occasional probing question my way as we debated one philosophical question or another. I valued his insights, and appreciated that they were mine for the asking, whether in regards to handling an intransigent faculty member or navigating home repairs.
Often, he encouraged me to meditate, something many others had tried and failed before him. I would rather read, I insisted, and eventually he gave up. We are who we are. Once he and I might have sought to mold or influence one another, but the passage of time mellowed even that instinct. We discussed our life’s philosophies, but we did not debate them.
In an echo of the past, mostly he listened, maybe with half an ear, maybe with both ears, but always it seemed, willingly.
The only time Nao Kao gave me the impression that my actions might have been beyond the pale was when I recollected the disastrous end to my marriage.
“If that is how you ended a marriage…” I could not catch the rest of the message before he quickly unsent it.
“Nao Kao, what did you say?” I asked, annoyed.
He changed the subject.
“Nao Kao! Tell me. What did you say?”
I did not like the signals my intuition was sending.
After what seemed an inordinately long delay, the telltale typing dots appeared.
“Let it go, Liss. It was a long time ago.”
Shit.
Even if I couldn’t remember everything, I remembered enough. I remembered the salient facts: a wife, two kids, and a visa type that compelled return to and service of a country few here could even find on a map. And that was only half of it.Un vrai casse tête. Ou pire, un crève coeur.A massive headache. Or worse, a broken heart. Or maybe both. Yes, definitely both; I was in the unenviable position of not needing to choose between headache and heartbreak. I could have both.
All the same, I chose door number three.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
“I dreamed aboutyou last night,” I told Nao Kao in the fall, as the leaves began to turn, as we in America began to come to terms with the extent to which 2020 was destined to be our collective annus horribilis.
“What was I doing?”
“You were mad at me. So mad. Shouting at me about drinking the water. We must have been in Laos because we were at lunch and I wanted a bottle – factory sealed and branded, preferably Danone – and you accused me of being dramatic and making a fuss.”
“And?”
“You tossed your napkin onto the table, balled up your fists, jammed them in your pockets, and stalked away.”
The laughing reaction popped up.
“Water is fine here. You can drink.”
“Not likely. I’m sure it is fine for you, but Delhi Belly is for real, so I’m just saying, if I ever come to Vientiane, don’t make me drink the water.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ha! That’s what you said in the dream.”
“So, what’s the campus like these days? Quiet?”
