My Friend Leonard (15 page)

We leave around five. We get a cab I ride home with her. I spend the entire trip trying to decide if I'm going to kiss her. Though we talk to each other, I don't hear a word, don't have any idea what I'm saying. I just stare at her and think will she let me should I try will she let me should I try will she let me.

We get to her building, get out of the cab.

Can I walk you to your door?

Don't expect to be invited inside.

Who says I want to be invited inside?

She smiles.

Yeah, you can walk me to my door.

We enter the building, should I, get into the elevator, will she let me. She pushes the button for her floor, looks over at me.

Thanks for taking me to the game.

Thanks for going.

She smiles, we don't speak anymore, just awkwardly look at each other.

The elevator stops, doors open. We step out, start walking toward her
door. My heart starts pounding my feet are heavy I'm nervous scared I want to kiss her don't want to get rejected I think she'll respond but you never know nervous scared. We stop at her door. She speaks.

This is it.

You have a nice looking door.

She looks at the door. It's a plain gray door with a number on it. She looks back.

I never noticed.

It's nice. I like it.

She laughs.

Thanks for a cool day.

Nervous.

My pleasure.

Scared.

See you soon?

Heart pounding.

Yeah.

She reaches out her hand, I take it, pull her toward me, kiss her. It is a simple kiss. Lips slightly open, a few seconds long. I pull away slowly, open my eyes. Brooke looks surprised. Sort of shocked. Sort of scared. I smile.

Bye.

I turn, walk to the elevator, push the button the door opens, I step inside, wait for the door to close. I don't turn around, look back or look up, I leave her with the kiss. The door closes, I immediately smile, take a deep breath, let it out. I push the button the elevator starts moving down. A rush runs through my body, something similar to the rush of speedy drugs, a rush of pleasure, security, joy, a rush of hope fulfilled, a rush of love or something that could be love.

I step out of the elevator still smiling leave the building still smiling. I start to walk down the street I think of Lilly my smile fades. Something inside hurts something between the happiness of moving forward and the sorrow of letting go. I go to a florist spend every cent I have on roses red roses.

I get down on my knees. Lay the flowers before me.

Hi.

I saw the girl I told you about.

It went well with her.

I haven't felt good about anything since you left, but today I did, I felt good, I finally felt good.

I want to see her again.

I need to see what happens.

I'm not going to come around so much anymore.

I miss you, and I wish you were here, and if you were this wouldn't be happening.

I start to cry.

You let me.

I cry.

You left me.

Cry.

I'm not going to come around so much.

Cry.

 

I
see Brooke the next day.

Again the next day.

Again the next.

We go for walks, go to the movies, go for cheeseburgers at a cheap diner.

We go to a bar, shoot pool, smoke cigarettes.

After a week she lets me into her apartment. It's a two bedroom with views of Lake Michigan. Nice, but nothing extraordinary.

After ten days she lets me into her room. She has a soft white bed, she has clean beautiful sheets, she has more pillows than she needs. We lie on her bed and kiss, kiss, kiss long and deep we lie facing each other our legs entwined we kiss. We don't move beyond kissing I'm not secure enough to move beyond. I tell her I'm scared that she scares me that my emotions scare me that opening myself scares me. She asks about my past I tell her stories about dealing drugs about being arrested about being addicted about falling apart. I feel no pride in telling the stories, I feel no shame. It was my life, and now it isn't.

I meet her roommate Heather. Heather is nice to me, but I can tell that she thinks I'm a hoodlum, and I can tell that she thinks Brooke could do better than me. I agree with Heather, Brooke could definitely do better than me.

I meet her friend Ned. Ned is openly hostile toward me. He tells Brooke that I'm going to hurt her, that I'm dangerous, unstable, insane. We have dinner with him in an attempt to calm him down, he doesn't speak to me except to occasionally correct my table manners. I ask Brooke if I can kick Ned's ass. She says no.

I stay with her for the first time I feel safe in her arms I sleep easily no dreams.

We rent movies.

Order pizza.

Hold hands as we walk.

Stay up late watch the sun rise.

Sleep through the afternoon.

See Danny, Kevin. They are both amused by what is happening between us. Kevin says it's just like the movies I say what movie he laughs, says Beauty and the Beast.

I don't work. I don't know why I'm not being called, don't know why I haven't had to go anywhere.

I make Heather laugh, once, twice, three or four times my sparkling wit starts to win her over. We both know Brooke could do better than me, but Heather starts to believe that maybe I'm not so bad.

We have another dinner with Ned. I know he likes sports I try to engage him. We talk about baseball, basketball, football. He loves the Chicago teams I know enough to carry on the conversation. At the end of the night, while I'm in the bathroom, he tells Brooke that maybe he was wrong about me. Later, when Brooke tells me, I say that I am happy he said it, because if he hadn't, despite your objections, I was going to kick his ass. She laughs at me.

I start to stay with her every night.

I go home in the mornings. I shower, pick up my mail, replenish my supply of cash. I am home one morning the phone rings I pick it up.

Hello.

Leonard speaks.

Harry motherfucking Houdini.

I smile.

What's up, Leonard?

Where you been, my son?

Been around.

Doing what?

Not much.

Hah! HAH!

I laugh.

What the fuck is that?

I say
HAH!
You've been running around with a little lady.

Maybe.

Maybe my ass. One of my reporters said you've been cavorting with a pretty young blonde.

One of your reporters?

I have people who report things to me. I call them my reporters.

And they watch me?

They check on you occasionally.

That's gotta stop, Leonard.

It's for your own good.

Stop having people watch me, Leonard.

Okay, okay, I'll stop.

Thank you.

Have you been enjoying yourself?

I laugh.

Yes.

Bet you don't miss working

Is this why I haven't gotten any calls?

I thought you deserved some time off to concentrate on more important matters.

Thank you.

You seem to have done well.

Yeah.

I'm impressed.

What do you know about her?

I know she's very attractive, I know she's very rich. I know she's from an old blue-blood family. I know you sound better than you have sounded in a long time.

You have someone watching her?

No, just did some checking.

No more of that.

I understand.

No more.

You're protective of her.

Yeah.

I'm happy for you.

Why?

If you're protective of her, it means you care for her. It's a good thing, a beautiful thing, if you're able to care for someone again.

You should come meet her.

Won't be anytime soon.

Why?

I'm doing some deals right now, significant deals, and I have to pay close attention to them. I'll come meet her when they're finished.

Okay.

Anything you need?

Nope.

You've got cash?

Enough for a year.

He laughs.

I doubt that.

I don't spend much.

You've got a girlfriend. You'll start spending.

I laugh.

She's not that way.

We'll see.

Anything you need?

No.

Stay in touch?

Of course.

Good luck with your deals.

Goodbye, my son.

I hang up, leave, walk back downtown. Brooke is waiting for me.

 

W
e are having dinner with Brooke's older sister Courtney and Courtney's husband. It's a test run for a potential meeting with her parents. We go to a fancy restaurant. I wear nice clothing, khakis and a blue shirt and a sport coat, the same clothing I wear when I am carrying something on the El and pretend to be a commuter. We sit down, we're early, I'm nervous. I feel like an impostor in my outfit, like an actor in costume, like I'm pretending to be something I'm not. Brooke and I talked about what I should admit and what I shouldn't admit, Brooke told me to be completely honest. She's right, I should be honest, but I want the sister to like me and I know she probably won't if she knows about my past. I know in many ways I shouldn't give a shit, I am what I am, but I do give a shit. I don't want to embarrass her.

We sit at our table, wait for her sister to arrive she's late. Brooke takes my hand, speaks.

You okay?

Nervous.

You?

A little nervous.

No need for you to be nervous, I'm going to behave.

I know you are, and for whatever it's worth, Courtney's probably more nervous than either of us.

Why?

I've told her about you, she's nervous and excited to meet you.

What'd you tell her?

Just nice things. You have nothing to worry about.

Brooke motions toward the door. I turn, see a man and woman walking toward us. The man has dark curly hair, olive skin, is in his late twenties. The woman is a taller version of Brooke. Same blond hair, same blue eyes,
same skin, same lips. Same air of reserve, same air of wealth. She's slightly taller than her husband, who walks a step behind her.

I stand say hello she smiles says hi, I'm Courtney, and this is my husband Jay, I shake each of their hands say I'm James we sit down.

The dinner is easy, comfortable. Courtney does most of the talking, she talks about her children, about her house on the North Shore, about how busy she is, about how much she loves her husband. Just before our food arrives, she asks if I mind if she orders wine I say no she asks how I'm doing with everything I know Brooke has told her about rehab I say well she orders a glass of chardonnay. She talks all the way through dinner, doesn't touch her food. I eat a steak it's great but I'm still hungry she doesn't touch her salmon if I could I'd reach over the table and take it and eat it.

We finish dinner her husband picks up the bill. We walk out together she gives me a hug gives Brooke a hug we say goodbye they leave. Brooke and I start walking back to her apartment. She speaks.

That went well.

You think?

Yeah, she liked you.

How do you know that?

If she didn't like you, she would have scowled at you and complained about everything and tortured Jay.

I laugh.

Poor fella.

Poor fella my ass, he knew what he was getting into when he married her.

I laugh again.

I'm glad it went well, glad you think she liked me.

She'll report back to my parents and tell them that you're completely acceptable.

Which is good.

Very good.

I motion toward my sport coat.

Now that I've done well, can I take this thing off?

No.

No? Why not?

I've never seen you dressed up before. I think you look handsome. Humor me and wear it until we get back to my place.

I smile, take her hand. A warmth and a chill roll through my body they settle softly they linger they scare me. I feel very close to Brooke, strong with her hand in mine, invincible to the rest of the world, but fragile to her, vulnerable to her, she could hurt me, she could hurt me, nothing else but she could hurt me.

We walk back to her place. We go to Brooke's room. Brooke shuts the door, lights a candle. I sit down on the bed she sits next to me. We stare at each other for a moment, silently stare at each other. We both start moving forward we close our eyes, reach, meet, hands breath lips bodies meet. There is something more this time, walls are down, armor discarded, defenses breached. There is something deeper faster more urgent in our hands in our breath in our lips in our bodies. We stand her hands run beneath my shirt my hands beneath her shirt around her back we briefly separate my shirt comes off we lie down. I can smell her hair, soap on her skin, perfume beneath her wrist. Her lips are soft against me, her hands firm. I take her shirt off. My chest against her chest I can feel her heart beating. I'm close to her in body and elsewhere I'm close to her.

I feel weak fragile vulnerable. She could hurt me. I'm close to her. I'm scared. She could hurt me. I can feel her heart beat, I can feel my heart beat, she could hurt me. I can't go through with this she could hurt me. I can't handle any more, any more she could hurt me.

I want to kiss her keep kissing her I haven't felt this good since Lilly since Lilly. I want to keep kissing her I start to panic I'm fucking terrified. I pull away.

Why are you stopping?

I can't.

What's wrong?

I just can't.

What'd I do?

Nothing.

Did I do something wrong?

I'm sorry.

For what?

I'm just freaking out.

Why?

I'm just freaking out. I'm sorry.

She stares at me. I look away. I'm embarrassed, ashamed, confused. My hands are shaking, my body is shaking. Her arms are around me she can feel me shaking I hate myself she could hurt me like Lilly hurt me I'm fucking terrified.

What's wrong?

I can't look at her.

What's wrong, James?

I shake my head, bite my lip. I don't want to cry in front of her I don't want to cry. She pulls me toward her, pulls my head into her shoulder holds me there.

I want to love her. I want to give myself to her. I want to take her in every way I want to be normal with someone to have a normal life with someone. I don't want to be scared to love to give it and receive it. I'm tired of being fucking alone. I can't do it and I'm ashamed of myself. I speak softly speak.

It doesn't have anything to do with you.

Something before?

Yeah.

Do you want to talk about it?

No.

We can just lie here. You don't have to talk.

I'm sorry.

Just lie here.

We lie on her bed our legs entwined she holds my head against her shoulder. My heart slows, I stop shaking. Walls are up, armor on, defenses manned. She holds me I feel secure I'm safe again. She leans kisses my forehead.

You want a cigarette?

Yeah.

She pulls herself away from me. She stands walks to her dresser opens a drawer takes out a t-shirt. She puts it on and leaves the room. I sit up, lean against the headboard. I take a deep breath, stare at the sheets. I hate my
weakness, hate my fear, hate myself. Brooke comes back into the room.

She's carrying a pack of cigarettes, an ashtray, a bottle of water. She sits in front of me, hands me a cigarette, I take it she lights it.

Thank you.

You want some water?

I take the bottle, take a sip.

Thank you.

You okay?

I shake my head.

No, not at all. I'm totally fucked-up.

Is there anything I can do?

I wish there was.

I'm sorry.

Don't be sorry. You've got nothing to be sorry about.

She leans forward, kisses my forehead. She moves so that she is sitting next to me. We smoke our cigarettes, take alternating sips from the bottle of water. I stare at the sheets, occasionally look over at her. She stares at the sheets, occasionally looks over at me. We finish our cigarettes, put them out. She takes the ashtray, sets it on the nightstand next to the bed.

She looks over at me, speaks.

You want to go to sleep?

Yeah.

We lie down next to each other. She leans forward again gently kisses my lips, puts her arms around me, lays her head on my chest. I watch her fall asleep. After about an hour, I get out of her bed. I walk into the living room, light a cigarette, stare out of her windows stare at the lake, smoke and stare at the lake it is quiet, black, still. I wish I could let her help me. I wish she could do something for me. I smoke and stare at the lake I'm scared, she could hurt me, she could hurt me.