All This Time...

“Has Harry called yet?”
“No word from him.”
“Jesus… Here…, Keith reached across his desk and scribbled on a Post-it. His secretary watched from across the room, her left hand lightly touching the faux gold buttons on her business suit.
“When he checks in tell him lunch lasts fifteen minutes. Not sixteen, not seventeen. Fifteen minutes. You got that?”
“Don’t you think he knows that?”
“What?”
“Don’t you think,” Sue said, picking up the Post-it and sticking to the pile of papers in her hands, “he knows that?”
“What’s your point?”
Sue shifted her weight to the tips of her feet. She always walked around the office with her shoes off. It was her way of bucking the system.
“My point is something you already know.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Do I look like Buddha?” Sue said, leaving the office.

____________________

Keith swirled his single malt scotch in his glass, looking aimlessly at the window. To his left the rest of the lounge spread out, mostly empty. He came here often enough that the waitstaff knew his favorite drink: Macallan 25, in a short glass fill with ice. He was usually here alone, although he was a social creature by habit. Rain fell against the window in droplets, turning the neon in Baltimore’s skyline into an abstract masterpiece. The waitress walked by, her tray loaded with drinks. Keith watched her hips sway as she walked, trying hard to enjoy his senses. It was a ridiculous attempt.

“Hey honey.” Silence. He could hear the T.V. in the background.
“Caroline.” More silence. He ran his hand along the length of his leg.
“Look, I’m sorry, O.K?” Not a peep from the other side of the phone. He felt anger rise in his throat like mercury. Why was this bitch so hard to deal with?

“You make me feel awful. Just awful.”, she said. Now it was Keith’s time to be silent. He stared out the window, following the streaks of rain as they raced each other to the bottom of the pane.
“I had to fire Harry today.”
“Who?”
“Harry… you know, the kid with the lisp.”
“Keith…”
“Yes?”
“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!”
“I’m at Harborplace, I’m having a drink, I’m trying to relax. Today was…”
“I want you home.” Caroline’s voice was loaded, angry.
“Sure. I’ll be there in-“
“Now! NowNowNowNOWNOW!” She hung up the phone.

Keith looked around the bar, straightening his tie and trying to make sense of what was senseless. He felt trapped. Hopelessly trapped. What the hell just happened? The bar had begun to fill with people, most of them wearing lapel stickers with their names hand written across the front. They seemed tired, like they were playing a game that stopped being fun a half hour ago. Maybe it was just him.

“Keith.” The voice came from behind. Keith just stared out the window, trying hard to keep his hands from shaking. His entire life women had been treating him just like his wife. Just like his secretary. Do I look like the Buddha?
“Hello?...” The voice trailed off, lingering. Keith stayed in his angry little dream, thinking about his life, or what felt like a past life. How the hell did I wind up here?
“Hey!” Keith whipped his head in the voices’ direction, his eyes wide and startled. The waitress began to bend towards his table, laying down a cocktail napkin for a new drink.
“I’m sorry Sara, but I’m going to get out of here. You could just bring me a check.” Keith began to reach into his pocket for his wallet. “I know I usually have a second, but-“ The waitress giggled and handed Keith the new drink.
“This isn’t on your tab.” She winked and turned her head around. “This is compliments of the lady.” Keith stared in the same direction.

____________________


And where are you from…Cincinati…moved here but it didn’t work…look at her shoes…do you like those straps?...I used to be a painter, now I’m a banker…it’s funny how the streetlights in Baltimore hang overhead…I love this song…my mom was a jazz singer…that’s the Rusty Scupper… well I don’t know…one more Macallan…you shouldn’t drive…where?...hahhahhah…Sara thinks you should stay, don’t you Sara?...my room is so close…

_____________________


The light hit his brain like iron fists. He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, which seemed a lot fluffier than normal. The sheets felt crisp. Caroline must have washed…He pushed his chest off of the bed in shock, his brain bouncing around like a cannonball in his skull. Caroline…Gingerly he slid his feet to the floor of the room, which he intuitively knew was empty. He stepped on one of his socks. Bending over to pick it up, he felt the fists pounding his brain again. God! How much did I drink?


______________________



He didn’t realize his wallet was gone until he walked into the hotel lobby. He paused, checking his pockets, checking them again and again and finding them empty as many times as he looked. He wandered around the lobby, back up to the lounge to see if he had left it there, anywhere. The bartender looked bored, polishing a snifter with a white dinner napkin. No, he said, he hadn’t seen a wallet. Maybe he should check with the front desk.

“What was her name?”, the clerk asked, ready to type into the terminal?
Keith froze, the cobwebs clearly visible in his eyes. “I don’t know?”
“Well what room was she staying in?”
“I-I don’t know that either.” The clerk gave a look that told the story in his mind.
“Well there’s nothing I can do to help you if you don’t know any details. The best I can say is we’ll keep our eyes open.
“She was here with a group of conventioneers who were in the lounge last night.”
“Sir, we have people from all over the world staying here to attend conferences, seminars… I’m afraid theirs nothing I can do. Would you like me to call the police?”
“No, no thank you. I can handle it myself.”

_________________


“So you slept with her? Sue pulled a drag from her cigarette, blowing the smoke to the sky. The Legg Mason building jutted up from the earth behind her, standing like a sentry in the center of downtown.
“Yes.”
“Holy shit.”
“Mmhhm.”
“And what did Caroline say?”
Keith stared hard at Sue, letting the space say the words.
“You haven’t told her?”
“No.”
“Weren’t you out all night?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I told her after she yelled at me I needed to disappear, which was true.” They paused, watching the cars flow up Charles St.
“So why are you telling me? Do I look like a priest?”
“I’m quitting.”
“What?”
“I’m quitting my job.”
Sue took another puff, staring at Keith in disbelief. What the hell had gotten into him?, she wondered.
“I realized something. I realized I don’t love my wife. I realized I gave up my freedom. This is what I always thought I wanted. Even when I was a painter, when I should have been grateful, I always thought I needed a job like this… a wife like Caroline. I don’t need those things. In the end I don’t care anymore.”
“You’re sick.”, Sue said, a wicked smile on her lips.
“No, I’m just doing what I should have done a long time ago. Give me one of those cigarettes.” Keith lit the cigarette, savoring the smoke. He hadn’t smoked in three years. Since his wife made him quit.
“So what now? You going to become a bum? Maybe eat out of trashcans?”
“Maybe.” Keith coughed, his throat burning with pleasure and pain.
“Or maybe I’ll start painting again. Lord knows I don’t need to make more money.”
Sue crushed her cigarette beneath her shoe. “Lets go back upstairs. You’re one crazy son of a bitch, you know that? And to think all this time I thought you didn’t have any balls.”