Thanks for taking the time to read this story. It's my second posted on this site. This is just the start, and based on your feedback will continue to develop it. Any/all thoughts are appreciated. Thanks. jm08nyc@yahoo.com.
CHAPTER THREE
I saw Thomas sitting a table outside the bar as I walked up the street, and a huge sense of relief washed over me. I had known Thomas probably longer than anyone else who lived in Paris, and he was my best friend, business partner and confidant. He kept me sane on those days when no one else or nothing else could. This summer was the longest I had ever gone without seeing him in person, and it felt so good to come back to something that I could label as normal, the same, whatever.
When he saw me, Thomas hopped up from the table and came running up to me. Giving me a huge hug. God it felt good to see him.
"Hey, bud, it's so good to see you," he practically screamed.
"I missed you, too," I laughed back. It felt good to laugh. "How's the family?" Thomas had gotten married about five years ago and was raising two little girls with his wife, a Parisian woman who was just incredibly lovely.
"Good, good. Everyone's good. They're looking forward to seeing you. You're coming for dinner on Friday night. No ifs, ands or buts about it."
I laughed. Again. Feeling good. A bright spot in a low day. "Of course, I'd love to."
We sat down and the conversation flowed naturally. Focused on work. Thomas getting me ready for what I'd be walking into.
Hours later, in the dark of the Paris night, I slipped into the house. Feeling the quiet envelope me. Spending some time with Thomas had been good for me. While we had talked all summer, it was different sitting across a table from him.
I didn't switch on the lights as I moved through the hall. Despite how long I'd been away, I could still navigate the house like the back of my hand. I moved down the left side of the hall passed the stairs, passed my bedroom and stopped before the living room, just outside the study. I pushed open the door and made my way inside. The wall of books just as I had remembered, glowing in the moonlight streaming through the windows.
This was my space. Cooper had left his mark on virtually every other room in the house, and the studio upstairs was all his, but this was mine. It was as though he always enjoyed a room that was mine, slipping inside and feeling enveloped inside me and my world.
I sat down on the couch in the study. This was my single favorite piece of furniture in the world. It's odd to have a favorite piece of furniture I suppose, but I did. I had the couch custom-built years ago, after I successfully landed my first client when I started my agency. It was extra deep, extra thick, and perfect for lounging to read a book or watch a movie.
I lay down. And rested my head on the arm of the sofa, pulling a blanket over me and praying for that a deep, dreamless sleep would come to me.
I awoke with a start. Momentarily unable to place myself. My sleep. My night. My world. Out of context. I could smell coffee. Sophie was in the house. I rolled over and saw the first rays of sun streaming through the windows. I stretched my long frame out, filling the couch and feeling that momentary flinch of being alive. I looked down at myself. Still dressed in my clothes from the night before.
I wrapped the blanket around me and went in search of coffee.
Today was Wednesday.
I watched the landscape of the city glide by my window as Emile deftly weaved in and out of the early morning Paris traffic, knowing just when to switch lanes, when to speed up or slow down, and which left turn would get us there on time. I breathed deeply. Relying on relaxation techniques I had learned a lifetime ago to help steel myself for the day ahead.
I hit the button and the window slid down, my hand dropping outside, being pushed back by the wind, but pushing forward in response. Relentless.
Another deep breath.
We'd arrived. I leaned out the window and looked up at the building. The building which had helped to make so many parts of my life a reality. The building that Thomas had managed all summer long. The building that I must now enter.
The lift doors opened silently on the twelfth floor, exposing me to the site of the floor before me. One hundred and forty-five employees worked here. Laughed here. Cried here. Created here. Made great progress together here.
Everyone knew I was returning today, of course. Just as they had all known when Cooper left. When I left. Thomas had attempted to keep office chit-chat to a minimum, but it was partly just human nature to be curious.
"Bonjour, Andrew," I heard softly from my right, pulling me out of my reflection on the scene before me. It was Stephanie, my assistant.
"Bonjour, Stephanie, comment etes-vous?"
"Very well, thank you, it's wonderful to have you back in the building. If you'll allow me to say."
"Of course. Thank you. Should we get on with the day? Will you lead the way?"
And she did, taking the reins, as she was so capable of doing, leading me around the outside of the floor and up the glass staircase at the far end to the offices upstairs. To my office. Talking the entire time. I kept my smile on as we walked throughout the office, making eye contact, nodding my head and saying "bonjour" as staffers stopped in their routine to welcome me back. My only response to Stephanie as she chattered was the occasional "yes" or "oui." I must start focusing on what she's actually saying. I felt like I was in a fog. The buzz of the office softened, distanced by the long summer. The clack of Stephanie's heels against the glass stairs brought me momentarily back. "Merci, Stephanie, merci. Thank you so much for taking care of so much while I've been gone."
"You're most welcome, Andrew, that's what I'm here for."
We had arrived at my office. It seemed to be just as I had left it. I took a few minutes to get my bearings. Take stock of things. Something was different. The flowers on the table, yes. That must've been Stephanie. I walked along the windows, overlooking Paris. The books on the cases below all looking in order. And then I noticed, the pictures. About a third of them were missing, and the rest had been re-arranged to cover their absence.
I didn't need to look closer to know which ones were gone. Cooper. He had been carefully edited from my life, just like the copywriters downstairs edited commas and quotations. Cooper. Gone.
I sat down at my desk. And threw myself into my work.
It had been an unusually productive day, I thought to myself as the sun set outside my windows. I got up from the conference table and padded over to my desk, having shucked my shoes hours ago and spent the day in updates with my senior staff. Fortunately, Stephanie had stacked the day with meetings, leaving me little time to think about the missing pictures, or missing man, in my life.
Hearing each team update on their progress over the last three month, accomplishments, new projects, even a few awards they had won felt good. Surrounded by the team who had become my family over the last few years, Thomas and the rest, felt good.
I sunk into my desk chair, just as the phone started to ring. Daniel. Caller ID must be one of the greatest inventions of the last twenty years. I hadn't spoken to Daniel in a few days, and after having gone the entire summer with our daily chats, I was reminded of everything that had changed in my life since May.
"Hello, brother," I said, picking up the phone. "I've missed our daily updates."
"Yoooooooooooooo!"
I laughed. If nothing else, Daniel could always make me laugh. I put my feet up on the desk, watching my team starting to leave the office for the evening, through the glass walls of my office, as I settled in for a brotherly chat. "What's the word?"
"Well, you tell me! You've finally left that shack you spent the summer wallowing in, you're back in the city, you're back at work. I think there's more going on with you than going on with me. So spill the beans."
Daniel was a couple of years younger and was still living in New York City. He was a corporate lawyer, who had just gotten engaged to his high school sweetheart. He was sort of your typical all American guy. And one of my closest friends, in addition to being my brother.
"Uh," where to begin... I stalled. "It's been weird being home. Sophie's almost being nice to me, which I feel like is a sure sign that I must be far worse off than I had imagined. It's incredibly hard being in the house. There are signs of Cooper everywhere. I can't escape him. But, at the same time, I don't know that I want to escape him. I mean, it's been four months, but it feels like yesterday, and seeing the life that we shared together, almost as if it was someone else's has been really weird..."
It was coming out of me now.
"...so I don't know. I feel like I've been saying that all summer, I know. But I don't really know what's next. It was actually amazing to be back at work today. I feel like I'm being productive. Back in my element. Back in something that makes sense. Something that gives me purpose. Fuck, Daniel, I really don't know what's next."
"Andrew, just take it one day at time. Things will start to fall into place, and you'll begin to figure out what's next. And, I really wish you'd come visit New York. It's been almost a year since you've been home."
"Maybe later this fall," I said slowly in response. Not ready to face the rest of the family. But knowing that I should.
"Don't worry, no reason to rush anything. Listen, I've got to run into a meeting, but I'm going to check-in with you tomorrow morning. Make sure you get some sleep tonight. You need it."
"Thanks, Danny, have a good day. Love you."
"Love you too, be good."
I let the phone fall back on the receiver and dropped my feet from the desk, getting up to find my shoes. This was the toughest, dinnertime alone. Nighttime alone. I shook the thought from my head as Thomas and Stephanie walked into the office.
"So..." Thomas started.
I stared.
Stephanie picked up, "...did you have an okay day? Would you like one of us to drive you home?"
Their worry was palpable. And appreciated.
I laughed and shook my head, "no, no, guys. I'll be ok. Emile is waiting downstairs, I'm going to head home, and just try and get some sleep or something. Thank you both for making today an amazing first day back. And thank you both for all your hard work over the summer. I haven't figured out yet how to repay you for taking the lead while I've been gone, but I'm going to do something special for you."
"No need to do anything, boss," Thomas said slowly. He only called me "boss" when he was worried about me, being extra kind. "That's what we're here for--well, if you don't need anything else, we'll head home as well."
"Yes, yes, please do. I'll see you both in the morning."
Thomas left me with a long stare and then turned and walked out of the office. Stephanie followed a few seconds later with a quick, "bonsoir" she was gone.
And I was alone. Again.
As night settled over the city, Emile pulled the car up in front of the house on Rue Charlot. "Tout ce que je peux faire pour vous, ce soir, monsieur?" I heard from the front.
"Merci, no, Emile. Bonsoir." I replied stepping out of the back. "Rendez-vous dans la matinée."
Back to the big, empty house.
Up the stairs. To the front door. It was late, Sophie would be gone, but some sort of dinner would be waiting for me. But, I had no appetite. I put the key in the lock, as I noticed something taped to the front door. A note?
Yes. A note. All it had was a letter "A" written on the front.
Written in a very familiar handwriting.
Fuck.
TO BE CONTINUED.