Complementary Colors Read online

  “No.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  I laughed. “Long enough to make me think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

  Roy pulled me to a halt and wrapped me in his arms. “That’s not true.”

  “What?” He held me tighter, and suddenly, I was afraid.

  “Don’t ever think that.” He laid his forehead against mine and traced the lines of my face. The raw concern in his eyes made it difficult to breathe. “You will always be welcome.”

  I was going to tell him he’d read into it something that wasn’t there. But I’d meant exactly what those words implied.

  “Are you ever going to show me?” I said. He crunched his eyebrows together. “The reason you come here.” I just wanted him to quit looking at me like that. Like I’d threatened to take away someone he…

  “Yeah.” Roy kept his arm around me while we walked.

  From deeper in the park, the sad cry of a violin beckoned us. The pitch was perfect, and the open space left nothing to inhibit the powerful notes from floating off toward the sky, trailing oranges, limes, and reds.

  Anxious calm followed it, and memories of a highly polished floor coated in melting sunlight was strong enough to rise through decades.

  “What are you looking at?”

  I hadn’t realized I’d stopped until Roy turned.

  “Vivaldi.” I swayed in time with the swirling music. In another life, fueled by a woman’s laughter, I would dance until I was drunk. Then I’d lie on the floor and giggle until she beckoned me to lunch.

  Her face. Her beautiful face hovered in the warm sun. But the details were blurred by the passage of time.

  “What’s Vivaldi?”

  The memory winked out, leaving me in the dark, the cold, and a life where no light could reach me through the layers of obscene colors smeared across a canvas.

  I started walking again, and so did Roy. “He’s a composer. This piece is by him.”

  “Oh, you mean the song.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, the song.”

  The deeper voice of a cello joined in. Roy hummed.

  “I never pegged you as a fan of classical.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “What kind of music did you think I liked?”

  “I don’t know.” I put my arm through his. “Something involving cowboy hats.”

  He laughed. “Just cowboy hats?”

  “If the band members only wore the hats, I’d attend the concerts. I’ve recently learned country boys can have some impressive equipment.”

  Roy scuffed his feet. “Actually, I like rock. Even some of the grunge bands.”

  “And yet you come here every Friday at seven.”

  “I like the music; I just don’t know anything about it. But that’s not the only reason I come.”

  The footpath led us around a playground, to a large area paved in brick. Park benches edged the circular space, and picnic tables dotted the grassy areas under the trees.

  Out of place among all the perfection was a small group of older men under a popup canopy. They sat on fold-down chairs and wore a mismatched blend of army jackets and tattered sweatshirts. Three of them held violins, and the other two braced cellos between their knees.

  Unlike their clothing, the instruments were groomed to perfection.

  A few people dropped change into the bucket in front of them as they passed by.

  “They collect the money for the food bank,” Roy said. “Once a week, they go out and buy nonperishables to hand out to the homeless. The rest they use to help the church with the soup kitchen.”

  The center man on the violin clearly had more skill than the rest. It wasn’t just the way he coaxed the notes from the strings, but how he held himself, how his face glowed, how he pined for the music with every stroke of the bow.

  “That guy.” I indicated the man with a nod. “Who did he play for?”

  “Some big orchestra in New York, I think.”

  “The Philharmonic?”

  Roy nodded. “I think that’s what it’s called.”

  A couple stopped to listen. The woman put her head on the man’s shoulder.

  “What?” Roy said.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “No, but you have a funny look on your face.”

  I didn’t doubt it. “Not just anyone plays for the New York Philharmonic.”

  “I don’t think Jim was just anyone. He won’t talk about himself, but Eddie, the guy on the right with the cello, he’ll talk your ear off about the man. Apparently, Jim went to college on a music scholarship and started playing in an orchestra before he graduated.”

  I was willing to bet if he had a better violin he’d sound twice as good. And he was already better than almost anyone I’d ever heard.

  “What made him quit?”

  “He went to Vietnam. He had some problems when he came back. By the time he got himself sorted out, they had no interest in him anymore.”

  “Then they were fools.”

  The piece ended, and they took a moment to get sips of water and stretch their fingers. The couple watching them left without dropping anything into the bucket.

  I didn’t miss the disappointment in Roy’s eyes.

  “Evening, gentlemen.” Roy walked over, and the men tossed him hellos. The guy with the cello stood. They shook hands.

  All the while, Jim stared into the darkness beyond the trees with a lost expression.

  One of the other men suggested a piece, and they prepared to start. The redhead next to Jim tapped him on the arm. On his return from wherever he’d gone, he caught my gaze.

  It was then I realized we knew each other, because we walked the road of madness together. Shoulder to shoulder, even hand in hand, but never aware the other existed. Even though we traveled in the same direction, we remained alone.

  I found no comfort in the realization he was there, rather confirmation that once the rabbit led you astray, there was no escape.

  Jim acknowledged me with a nod. I did the same.

  The small group of men struck up another song where the violins dominated even the deepest note from the cellos.

  Roy took out his wallet. The worn piece of leather had been carried in his back pocket so long it held the curve of his ass.

  He flipped through receipts until he located a bill. Roy pinched his lip between his teeth. His expression was a cross between worry and pain.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Roy removed the bill. “Nothing, why?” Without looking at it, he folded it in thirds and dropped it into the bucket. I think it was a five or maybe a ten, whatever it was, it looked very lonely among coins.

  He went back to watching the men with enough intensity to suggest he was trying very hard to avoid any more questions.

  I took out my wallet. I used a five dollar bill to conceal three hundreds, folded it in thirds just like Roy, and dropped it next to his.

  I was sure he hadn’t seen me do it until he held my hand. “How much did you just put in there?”

  “Put what where?” I glanced around.

  Roy rubbed his thumb against my palm. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

  “What?”

  “That.” He nodded at the bucket.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He bumped me with his elbow. “Thanks.”

  Never in my life had that word felt so sincere. But it seemed every word from Roy’s lips had meaning. Just like his smiles, his touches, and the way he looked at me. It was all done with the purest intentions. I don’t think Roy even grasped the concept of ulterior motive.

  And in a world where it was the driving force of society, he was at a disadvantage.

  Roy tugged me over to a bench, and for a very long time, we sat in the darkness of the park surrounded by orange halogen lights making more shadows than they pushed back.

  “What happens if I say yes?” I said.

&
nbsp; “To what?”

  “This.” I waved a hand. “All of this. What we’re doing.” I shook my head. “What are we doing?”

  “Sitting in a park listening to Vil…” He scrunched up his face.

  “Vivaldi.”

  “That’s what we’re doing.”

  “But what about next time? Or the time after that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure to tell you the truth. I’ve never had anybody…” I bounced a knee and tugged at the hairs on the back of my head. The gloves made it impossible to get a hold. At least I was able to make myself stop. “No one has ever wanted to know me. To be honest, I’m not even sure why you want to.”

  “I told you why.”

  “But it isn’t enough.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then will you at least trust me enough to believe it’s because I think you’re intelligent, clever, and very beautiful.”

  “Beautiful?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought we already had the girl discussion.” I tried to laugh, but it crumbled.

  “Handsome just isn’t a big enough word for what you are. Maybe if I knew a better one.”

  “No, no, beautiful is fine, it’s just…” I nodded. “Never mind.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I need a drink. Is there somewhere we could go?”

  “You don’t need a drink.” Roy took me by the hand. Touching me made it impossible to move.

  All the worry and hope in his eyes should have killed me. “But I’m not. I’m not beau—” I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. “I’m ugly and foul.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because I’ve done terrible things.” Laughter broke out. A couple of teenagers walked past with skateboards tucked under their arms.

  “Like?”

  “I can’t tell you. I just can’t.” If he pushed me too hard, I would. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I might have not broken right then, but I would have eventually.

  “All right.”

  “Thank you.” My smile wouldn’t work either.

  Roy held me captive with his gaze, and the park, the music, the world vanished. I pressed my lips together to keep them from trembling.

  “But,” he said. “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here. Until then, I want you to remember, whatever it is you think you’ve done, it has not changed the good person I know you are.”

  ********

  We sat there sharing the silence long after the rag-tag group of old army vets left. Clouds erased the stars, and snow floated down from the sky.

  I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt so at peace. I wasn’t even sure I ever had been. But I was now, and it was a moment I didn’t want to end. I think I would have stayed there all night if Roy hadn’t pulled me to my feet.

  There was only the sound of the occasional car on the wet asphalt and the snow as it whispered against the ground. It would be gone by morning. A new day always meant the destruction of so many things.

  Roy walked me inside my building.

  “Will you come upstairs with me?” I already knew the answer, but I had to ask.

  He pushed my bangs back. “Not tonight.”

  “Then when?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I wish this getting to know each other didn’t involve abstinence.”

  “Why?”

  “You still have a few nooks and crannies I haven’t taste-tested.” I laughed when his face turned red. “You know, you blush really easy.”

  “One of my downfalls.”

  “Something tells me you don’t have very many.” I pulled him closer and put my lips close to his ear. “Please come upstairs with me. I want you, Roy. I ache to feel you inside me.”

  He made the smallest whimper.

  “You want to.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you won’t.”

  “No.”

  “Well, you can’t blame me for trying.”

  Roy tugged on the front of his jacket, but it wasn’t nearly enough to cover the impressive bulge behind the zipper of his jeans.

  “You better be glad that thing is attached, or it would follow me home. Then I’d have to keep it.”

  He tried to adjust himself, but there was no rearranging something that large. If anything, shifting it around just let it creep farther down his thigh. He gave up and stood there looking defeated.

  “So this is good-bye.” I said. “Or at least goodnight.”

  He pressed his mouth to mine. I parted my lips, wanting his tongue, but he kept that chaste too.

  “I’m really beginning to hate this.” I sighed and stepped away.

  “You haven’t even given it a chance.”

  “I’m not even sure I want to.” Roy smiled at me in a way that said he knew I didn’t mean it.

  “I’d like to see you again,” he said.

  “Like a date?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay. What do you want to do?”

  “We could go get something to eat.”

  “Where?”

  He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Where do you normally go?”

  “Lorna’s, Dante’s, The Blue Dog, Dumonds.” I shrugged. “And a few I can’t remember.”

  “Suit and tie?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Just checking. What time do they open?”

  “Around five, but you’ll need to call in a reservation by twelve.”

  “Do you have a preference?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then I’ll take you to Lorna’s.” There was something in his tone I couldn’t quite place.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  But there was something, and I had no idea how to get him to tell me. I nodded at the elevator. “I guess I better go.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you sure you—”

  He held up a hand. “I’ll make the reservations for six tomorrow. Do you want me to pick you up?”

  “It’s closer to your side of town. I’ll meet you there.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I stepped into the elevator. “I guess I’ll see you then.” He vanished behind the doors, leaving me alone.

  Roy and his stupid ‘get to know you’ bullshit. Why couldn’t he just come upstairs and fuck my brains out like any other man would? But that was just it. He wasn’t like any other man. I knew what they wanted, and I knew how to give it to them.

  But Roy?

  Back in the gallery, in that maintenance room, and again in his apartment, I thought I'd known him. Obviously, I’d been wrong. The thing was, I didn’t miss it. I wanted to, because then I could get a handle on the montage of emotions eating away at my insides. But I didn’t, and it left me wanting.

  And I wasn’t even sure what it was I wanted.

  I entered the apartment. It wasn’t a surprise to see Alice curled on the sofa with her head propped on her arm.

  “Alice?” I put a hand on her shoulder. “Alice, wake up.”

  She squinted at me. “I’m sorry.” She sat up. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “I told you not to wait up for me.”

  “I—” She stifled a yawn. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “I was fine.”

  “But what if you weren’t? Something could have happened, and there wouldn’t have been anybody to call the police.” I helped her stand. “My shoes.” I picked them up from beside the chair and handed them to her. “Thanks.”

  “Next time, don’t wait up.”

  “Are you going out again?”

  I laughed. “Did you think this was only a one-time thing?”

  “Yes, uh, no…I…” She finished putting on her shoes. “You really like this guy, don’t you?”

  I shed my coat and took it to the closet.

  “Do you?”


  It was a good question. “I think so.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “You do like him.” Her smile was contagious.

  I put the scarf and gloves with the coat.

  “When are you going to see him again?”

  “I thought you didn’t want me to?”

  “No, it’s not that, it’s…”

  She didn’t have to explain. I rarely saw any man twice, and even the,n it was never for anything more than sex. Uncomplicated, no commitment, sex. “It’s okay.”

  I left my boots by the door. The chill in the tile didn’t waste any time sinking into the soles of my feet.

  Alice’s face lit up. “Having a boyfriend will be good for you.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  She followed me into the kitchen and cut me off at the freezer. “It will. I promise.” She took the vodka out the freezer.

  “If a boyfriend is such a good thing, then why don’t you have one?” I leaned against the counter while she poured me a drink.

  “I just don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I guess I don’t want one.” She fumbled with the juice box and stuck it back in the fridge. “Here.”

  I took the glass. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Alice made herself busy putting the vodka away and rearranging some things in the freezer in the process. “Are you hungry? I could fix you something.”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “You really should eat better.” A bag of peas fell out, and she picked it up. “I read this article one time that when you don’t eat a balanced diet you’re more susceptible to getting sick.”

  “Alice, why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

  She gave me her back as she shut the door. “Would you like some ice?”

  “No. It’s fine.” I put my drink on the counter and took her hand. She didn’t resist when I turned her around.

  She wouldn’t look at me. “Daddy didn’t understand that all boys weren’t bad. I tried to tell him, but he said…I really should get going.” She fluttered her hands. “I have shopping to do, and I need to pick up your blue suit.”

  “Alice?”

  Her lip trembled. “Daddy said Andrew didn’t love us. That’s why he ran away.” Alice snapped her mouth shut. “I need to go. I have to get up early…” She fled in the direction of the door.

  “Alice, who was Andrew?”

  “Your suit. If I don’t pick it up, they’ll charge extra. Or worse, they might lose it again.”