But he picks up almost instantly.
" Hey ... I was waiting for you."
The sound of his voice floods me with
relief. I bring my fingers up to my mouth to
contain a sound. I don't know whether to
feel confused or relieved or a mixture of both.
" Sam— " Isay his name without thinking
" I wasn't sure if you'd call back," he says
" Thought you might have forgotten."
" I didn't forget. I wasn't sure where to go."
" Where did you end up?"
I turn my head and look up at the stained glass transom above the door without thinking. From inside the cafe, the mosaic letters reflect backward in gold and blue lantern light.
" Sun and moon."
" The cafe where I used to work?" he asks. I almost forgot. it's been a while since I've been back here. Sam goes quite for a moment, and I feel him listening to the background noises through the phone. Suddenly I become aware of them, too—the sound of stools scratching against wood floor, the clink of a spoon on a ceramic plate, the low murmurs of a conversation from across the room. " That's where I first talked to you. You were sitting in the back of the cafe. Do you remember?"
My mind flashes back to that day. A black apron, the steam from a warm latte, a paper lily on the front counter. Sam brought over my drink before I could order and we talk for hours. That was almost three years ago. This is the same table, isn't it? The one in the back, by the window. I almost didn't notice.
" You used to order a honey lavender latte. I still remember. You never order that anyone, thought. You drink coffee now. At least, you try to ," he says with a laugh.
It feels like yesterday we were sitting here together. But I can't think about this right now. " Sam ..." I say to bring him back.
" Remember that time you wanted an espresso to finish your paper, but I said it was way too late for that?" he goes on, almost reminiscently. " You kept insisting, so I made it anyway, and you couldn't sleep the entire night. You got so mad at me ..."
" I wasn't mad at you. I was just cranky."
" Remember the concert, that night I got my guitar signed? We ended up at the cafe, too, isn't that right? We shared one of those half moon cookies ... you know with the white icing? The ones you said don't look like moons at all? Remember that?"
Of course I remember. The memory is fresh in my head, sending a flutter to my stomach. I was wearing his denim jacket, the one I threw out this morning. We were soaking wet from the rain. Exactly like I am right now. My heart is pounding. Whi is he bringing this things up again? These memories. I don't think I can't hear any more of them. " Why are you doing this?" I ask.
" What do you mean?"
" Reminding me all of this ..."
" Is that a bad thing?"
" Sam—" I start.
Something interrupts me. A shoulder with black sleeves emerges as someone pulls a chair around, taking the table behind me. At the same moment the door swings open as another couple comes in, folding down an umbrella. It's getting too crowded in here. I turn back to face the window and lower my voice. " I wish you could tell me what's going on," I say. " How do I know if this is real?"
" Because this is real. I'm real Julie. You just have to believe me."
" How do you expect me to do that? I feel like I'm going crazy."
" you're not crazy, okay?"
" Then how am I talking to you?"
" You called me, Julie, And I picked up. like always."
It's the same thing he said before. But it isn't enough.
" I didn't expect you to answer. I didn't expect to hear from you again."
" Are you dissapointed?" he asks.
His question surprise me. I'm not sure how to answer it. " That's not what I meant. I only meant ...I—" I don't know what to say. My mind is too far away and scattered to concentrate.
TO BE CONTINUE ....
AUTHOR: DUSTIN THAO