Eons Until I Reach You

MCGUIRE'S COFFEE BEANS

In five minutes, we are in front of McGuire’s Coffee Beans. Jase goes for the booth at the back corner. Only two other tables are occupied. Christmas lights drape the ceiling and the shop smells nice and warm. Like marshmallows.

His eyes track me as I slip into the seat opposite. When I’m settled, he orders coke, fries and cheeseburgers, and then leans back, with a cool smile. “What do you want to know?”

I lean forward and put my elbows on the table, interrogative style. “Why did you move back?”

“My company’s branching out and one of the new locations is here in Hampton Bay. I opted to shift here.”

“Shift from where?”

“New York. I worked there for a year after San Francisco.”

“Do you hate me?” s**t. It’s word vomit. The filter in my brain apparently stops working. Subconsciously I must have been desperate to find out the answer to that question.

“No.” His gaze is level, and I can’t tell if he is lying or not. I watch his face, trying to read the micro-expressions to no luck.

I twiddle with the fries the waitress just placed at our table as he waits patiently for my next question. I’m out of script though. One word is all he said. But somehow it affected me more than every conversation I have had in the last four years.

Nonchalantly he studies the menu, dark curls falling over his eyes. I peek at him. I never thought I would see him again. In profile, he looks just the same as I remember. Strange that four long years have passed since I last saw his beautiful face.

I blink when he suddenly locks eyes with me. Flustered, I say, “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you.”

Awkwardly I return to playing with the menu card and concentrate on the Rihanna song in the background. Something about diamonds. Her voice is mesmerizing.

I can feel myself starting to get calm but then he puts his hand on my arm and my composure walks out the backdoor.

“Bree.”

I meet his eyes and curse myself. The intensity pierces like a laser through my gut.

“What?” I twist my expression into something pleasant. I really don’t want to think anymore so I nod at his plate, attempting small talk. “I see that cheeseburgers are still your favourite. Glad to know some things don’t change.”

His eyebrows rocket up. “Yeah… What about you? Are you still an Avril Lavigne fan?”

“Hard-core,” I reply, slurping my coke. I try my best to put forth what I hope is a breezy demeanour. “So, how’s weather like in New York city?”

“Cold. Not bad. I missed the weather in the Hamptons. And the beaches here. Do you still go to the beach a lot?”

I shake my head. “Rarely. So what do you do in free time?”

“You know how these things are. Late night coffees, all-nighters and meeting deadlines. I barely have time to sleep. It’s a cold hard life, Bree.”

“Hmmm.” I nod, my eyes rapt in attention.

“Mom’s here in Montauk. She moved back about six months ago. She has been managing the family business single-handedly and it is time I helped. And my brother is coming to visit in a month. He has two kids now.”

“Really? That’s great. How old are they?”

“Gabe is four and Amy is two.” He smiles fondly and proceeds to show me pictures of the kids on his phone.

“How long will you stay here?” I ask casually, as he finishes eating.

“A year. Maybe two. I really haven’t decided. Depends on a lot of stuff. But for now, you can think of it like I’m back for good.” He quirks an eyebrow.

I don’t know what to feel about this. Him. Moving back. In my city. It is unexpected and surreal, kind of. It is like one day you wake up and suddenly you are living close to the sun. “Where are you staying?”

“Haven’t fixed that detail yet. For now, I’m staying with Aaron. You remember him, right?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

I remember everything about him. Aaron is his best friend and college-mate. I have hung out a lot of times with both of them and the last time I saw Aaron was on New Year’s Eve. Right as the fireworks were going off. He mentioned one word about Jase - I don’t remember exactly what- and I practically ran out of the building. I try not to bump into him, even though we live in the same town.

As we finish eating, I wonder about his life for the past four years, but I know I won’t ask. There’s no point. And maybe he gets that I don’t want to visit the past. He hasn’t mentioned a word.

He drives me to my apartment in silence, sometimes commenting on the transformed townscapes and about how he missed the small-town life. Soon, we reach my apartment complex, a compact villa-style four-storied building with sparse vegetation surrounding it. I stand on the bottom stairs leading up to the revolving glass doors of the foyer.

“So,” I say. It’s awkward as hell.

He is calm and relaxed as if he has all the time in the world on his hands. “See you around?”

“Uh, yeah. Since you are back.”

He laughs. “You sound scared.”

“No,” I retort. “Why would I be?”

“So, I guess you don’t mind hanging out sometimes? Aaron is kind of occupied on weekends. I don’t know anyone around here anymore since my friends have all shifted away.”

I shrug, trying to be nonchalant. That’s probably the last  thing I should be doing. “Sure.”

With a last nod, he walks backward to the car, eyes on me as I turn and run up the stairs. I scourge my purse for keys and jam it in, then I bolt inside and slam my balcony doors open.

He is there on the street, looking up, like in some un-worded agreement. The night sky stretches wide behind him with barely any stars. Light breeze flutters the curtains, the only motion in my micro universe as I struggle to hold his gaze. When I can’t anymore, I move back and pull the curtains in, trying to calm my racing heart.

What now?