Piano in the Dark. Eric Pete

      “Ma’am,” I called out politely and in an as sober as possible fashion. “Are you waiting on a taxi or something? Because the bus isn’t running for several hours and it’s not safe for you.”

      “I’m fine,” she said calmly. She was stone cold sober. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m okay. I live around here—”

      I startled her. Had to come closer for some reason. Hit the remote to lock up the Camry again as I stepped back onto the sidewalk to join her. Was as if something was drawing me in despite my needing to be on my way. Something more sobering than Waffle House coffee.

      “Didn’t mean to scare you,” I offered as my tired, red eyes adjusted to the streetlights. She was beautiful—a basic, but apt description of her. She was little paler than what I was accustomed to, but with smooth, flawless skin, the sister appeared almost East Indian. Tall in her heels, she looked to be about five foot five with them off. Beneath her full eyebrows, her piercing brown eyes glistened; eyes that seemed almost alien and exotic under the light. Okay. The tequila shots had taken their toll on me. “Just wanted to make sure nothing was…wrong.”

      As I spoke, those eyes of hers flared in recognition. It was as if a new energy manifested and suddenly erupted from her. It overcame me and rendered me speechless. “Oh my God. Chase,” she said, her voice wavering.

      It wasn’t a guess or a question coming from an addled mind. She knew me. Somehow she knew me.

      But I’d never seen her before in my life.

      2

      “Chase, is it you?” the stranger said, overcome with emotion for reasons unbeknownst to me. She came forward and embraced me in a hug stronger than which I would’ve thought her capable.

      “Yes,” I answered, feeling embarrassed at the moment. “Do I know you?”

      She didn’t answer at first, just clung to me. Left with no choice, I kind of enjoyed the moment. I smelled deeply of her hair as her head rested on my shoulder. The fresh coconut was pleasing to my nose. On instinct, I allowed my hands to touch her in return, lightly rubbing her back.

      After another moment or so of our corner convergence, she let go and backed away. “I’m sorry about that,” she said, almost giddy as she stared at me. What was up with that? Perhaps I was wrong about her being sober. “I hadn’t seen you in…in a minute. It’s just nice to see a familiar face out here.”

      “I’m sorry. Did we go to school together?” I asked, trying a different approach to cover for my poor recollection. Shame on me for not remembering someone who looked this fine.

      “Yeah. Yeah,” she answered, either embarrassed by her actions or my reaction to them. “We met in college.”

      “Oh. Before law school.” My mind kicked into over-drive, trying to peel back the years to that time in my life, when I was faster and more reckless with my partners.

      “You’re a lawyer?”

      “No…no. Didn’t quite work out,” I replied with a nervous chuckle. “I do work at a law firm, though. Casey, Warner and Associates.” Now I was volunteering information freely to a woman I still couldn’t remember. But why did I feel so at ease with her? It wasn’t the tequila shots and couldn’t be the pussy because I didn’t remember ever getting it.

      “But that’s not your calling, is it?”

      “Sure it is…I mean. I’m happy. Wait,” I said, pausing from my stammering. “What is your name?”

      “Ava.”

      “Well, pleased to meet you…again, Ava.”

      She chuckled. “Likewise, Chase.” There she went again. Way too comfortable with speaking my name. The way she said it spoke of lazy afternoons and intimate dinners. Maybe something the future held if our “reunion” were to continue. And if I were a foolish man.

      My iPhone buzzed. A text.

      Thought you were on your way. Traffic can’t be that bad this time of night.

      Dawn was still awake. My sobriety was complete. “My wife,” I offered to Ava with an awkward wave of my hand and inept smile. “I…I gotta go.”

      She tried to mask the disappointment on her face, but it slipped through the cracks in her resolve. I could tell she had dozens of questions, but decided not to pursue them. “Good night,” is what she settled for.

      The farther away from Ava that I walked, the more difficult it felt. I ignored the odd feelings, picking up my pace until I was once again at my car door.

      No longer a captive of that painting, she’d begun crossing the intersection diagonally toward her secret, sexy cave wherever she dwelled. As she shuffled along with shoulders slumped, I wondered what magical things took place…or could take place in her midst.

      “Ava?” I called out.

      “Yes, Chase?” she replied, standing in the middle of the empty street. She straightened her shoulders and moved her hair out her eyes.

      “Back in the day, what kind of person do you remember me as?”

      “You were wonderful. Beyond belief.”

      I smiled just as my iPhone buzzed again.

      3

      On the long drive back to Spring, I questioned what had just happened outside the pub. A nagging part of me wanted to remain back in midtown with the mysterious woman Ava. She intrigued me, made me feel appreciated, but I left without even as much as a phone number. Better that way, I suppose. Company like hers at such an hour could come with a price. A price beyond idle friendship. A price I was unwilling to pay, I reminded myself as I pulled into the driveway of my home. As I hit the garage door opener, I didn’t see any lights on in the house. Maybe my stalling tactics had paid off.

      “Are you through avoiding me?” Dawn asked as I entered from the garage, throwing my keys on the kitchen counter. Rather than sleeping as I’d hoped, she was up watching television. The living room lights were dimmed and an empty wineglass sat on the coffee table in front of her. An episode of Mad Men was on AMC, harkening back to a simpler era, yet featuring a wife equally frustrated as she. Except I wasn’t Dawn’s Don Draper. He was successful in spite of his moral failings, things seeming to bounce in his favor, even. Don’t think he would’ve had a meltdown over a stupid bar exam. Of course, that exam would’ve been a firm commitment. A commitment to a direction I still was unsure about.

      I’d never win challenging her. Not as long as I was Robin to Jacobi’s Batman. I’d always be stupid and foolish for being so comfortable in my standing. Every cell in my body said to go to our bedroom, take a shower, then go to bed. The path of least resistance and a soft pillow. But I was known for making stupid decisions. Just ask Dawn.

      Instead, I sat in the wingback chair to her left, keeping some distance. Any closer and I might run the risk of being smacked. I removed my jacket and cautiously inhaled, looking to detect the sweet reminder of coconut amidst the tequila. Dawn wore a red silk nightgown over her slight, yet curvy frame. Crimson highlighting the sights along the highway that was her body. Her loveliness might’ve been rewarding if I’d brought my ass home earlier. “Something on your mind?” I asked, too frustrated by our current state to totally appreciate the view.

      “Yes,” she replied. “Like why you’ve been hiding out behind that womanizer Jacobi rather than coming home.” She took the remote, pausing the nattily-clad sixties womanizers on the screen in mid-quip. The stilled television lights bathed her exposed mocha skin in an eerie Technicolor-ish glow as she swiveled to face me.

      “I told you already. We had work to do. Gotta pay the bills, y’know. And I don’t feel like arguing, Dawn.”

      “And from the way you act, you’d think I live for arguing. I just want to talk with my husband, but can’t if he keeps avoiding things.”