For Auld Lang Syne (Sequel,CC,MATURE) COMPLETE -A/N - 6/26/2016
Posted: Thu Jan 14, 2016 10:10 pm
For Auld Lang Syne (Sequel #1 to A Tale of Two Christmases)
By: Kindred Kandies aka ArchAngel1973 in collaboration with Marsis
Disclaimer: Characters and plot lines that appeared in the series, the books, and the concept of Roswell are not ours. Belong to Melinda Metz, UPN, etc, etc…
Pairing: K&I but will also feature Michael & the others briefly.
Rating: Mature – Just to be safe.
Summary: Post-Graduation. A little conversation and reflection on New Year’s Eve as two people try to make sense of what they are to each other.
Author’s Note: For Novy – Happy New Year’s! Okay, it’s a tad late for New Year’s, but since it’s RF’s first day back up, it’s close enough.
Part 1
New Year’s Eve was a time of merriment for many people, a time of quiet reflection for others, and a time to make resolutions that while well meant would most likely be forgotten before the first week of the new year was even over. The celebration could be heard going on outside the walls of the quiet tavern, the city’s residents well into welcoming the New Year that was still a few hours away.
There were a handful of locals scattered around the tavern, all of them seeming to have sought out the quiet camaraderie of the establishment. It wasn’t a place frequented by kids from the university nearby; it was a sort of unspoken understanding that this place wasn’t for raucous gatherings. Very few outsiders ventured in and before long they bid their farewell and disappeared back out into the night. He knew given another hour or so even the people in the tavern would begin to liven up a bit and by 11pm they’d be in the mood to ring in the New Year.
He peeled back one corner of the bottle of O’Doul’s he held between his hands, sighing tiredly and shaking his head when the bartender made another pass and motioned to his drink. He’d had his share of New Years’ parties over the years and he’d made a ton of resolutions that’d been left by the wayside. This year he just didn’t have it in him to spend the evening ringing in the New Year at some party and he’d decided resolutions were a waste of time.
He didn’t hate New Year’s per se; he just wasn’t in the mood to celebrate a night that seemed destined to remind him of the one woman that remained just out of his grasp. For the past few years they’d spent December 31st together, sometimes with their family and friends, other times just the two of them. This was the first year he’d ever spent it alone and the first time since that stupid search for Enigma that he’d spent it without her.
He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, turning his head to glance over his shoulder when the door opened once again to admit some weary visitor. He rolled his eyes when he recognized the visitor and turned back to his beer to take a drink as he mentally prepared himself for what was coming.
“Just a Coke,” the man said when the bartender shuffled down to nod at the newcomer.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, El Capitan?”
Michael Guerin ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it to brush the snowflakes away before giving his friend the once-over. “You look like hell to the power of infinity.”
“Bite me,” Kyle Valenti muttered without bothering to look at him. “I thought you had plans for the evening?”
He reached for the Coke the bartender placed on the cocktail napkin in front of him and took a drink, making a face at the too-sweet taste. “I did and there was nothin’ in them about hangin’ out with you at a bar full of stiffs.”
“No one asked you to the party.”
“No, but someone did ask me to find you.”
Isabel. He immediately nixed that thought. No, she was the last person who’d be asking anyone to find him tonight. “Tell Dad to stop worryin’ about me and just rock into the New Year, alright?”
“That crap the Sheriff plays is about a billion light years away from anything resembling rock,” he snorted. “The girls wouldn’t get off my ass about makin’ sure you weren’t face-down in a bottle somewhere.”
“You have any idea how much of this crap I’d have to drink to be tanked?” He held the bottle up and waved it back and forth in front of the hybrid’s face. “I’d be here until next week. Unlike some people I can actually hold my liquor.” He set the bottle down again. “And while there’s alcohol in this stuff it’s not enough to even register on my radar.” He sighed and rolled his shoulders. “Look, I appreciate you guys checkin’ up on me, but I don’t need a babysitter for the night. Go back to the party over at the Parkers’ Pub and let me drag my ass into the New Year alone.”
“You know the hell I’m gonna have to deal with if I don’t come back with you?”
“You’ve put up your token protest, you can go now.”
He shook his head and drained his glass. “She’s not gonna be there.”
His hand tightened around the bottle. “If this’s gonna turn into one of those stupid touchy-feely talks you’re gonna have to go back and tell the girls to do better than sendin’ in the B Team because you suck at it.”
“What’s up with the bitchy mood?” He grabbed a handful of peanuts and tossed them in his mouth, chewing them as he contemplated the situation. He nodded when his friend just shot a look at him before facing front again and taking another long slow drink. “Separation anxiety from the little fat man, right?”
“You’re really not helpin’ matters, El Capitan.”
“She’s not home tonight if you wanna go home an’ pray or whatever it is you do.” He made a face. He still didn’t get the whole Buddhist thing his buddy was into. “Anyway, just sayin’ if you need to go home and say a few chants you’ve got the all clear.”
He waved his left hand dismissively. “It’ll wait.”
“You want me to go over to the house, get the fat man for you?” He shifted to rest his weight on his right elbow, one eyebrow lifting as he smirked. “I’m sure the Sheriff wouldn’t mind letting Buddha move in too.”
“I think it’d unnerve Dad if he had to look at my statue on a regular basis.” And while he could meditate anywhere he was fairly partial to his meditation room at home. It had been a gift from Isabel the year before; she’d turned the third bedroom in their apartment into a sanctuary and he’d loved it the moment he’d seen it.
“Okay, close your eyes.”
“Isabel, it’s been a long day and I’m beat.” The temperature had peaked at eight degrees. He’d been at it before sunrise and it was well after dark now. He’d pulled cars out of ditches, jump started dead batteries, changed flat tires, and assisted with lockouts. He wanted out of his grimy clothes, a hot shower, a hot meal, and his bed… in that order.
She’d been waiting for him when he’d walked through the front door, a big smile on her face, her beautiful eyes shining with happiness. She had grabbed his hand, the smile momentarily slipping when her hands came in contact with grease as they slid across his palm. But it returned full force a heartbeat later as her powers gently removed any traces of the offensive substance.
“Please?”
They’d been living together since coming to Canada, sharing space and friendship, and to his dismay, nothing more. For two years he’d thrown himself into his work and when he wasn’t at work he was either working out, meditating, or hanging out with the guys. How much could a guy take?
“I know what to do with the third bedroom.”
They’d been using that room for storage since they’d moved in. He couldn’t care less what she wanted to do with it. He tried hard not to roll his eyes or sigh in irritation or do anything else that would hurt her feelings. He could see that whatever it was, it was important to her that he see it and be excited about it. “Just lemme get my outer gear off, okay?”
“Have you had dinner?” she asked, watching him as he stripped the gear off and she lifted an eyebrow when he hung everything in easy reach of the front door rather than stowing it away for the night.
“No, not yet.”
“You’re on call tonight?”
He rolled his shoulders and moved his head from side to side in an effort to ease the tension in his muscles. “Yeah.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous. You’ve been on call for the past five days.”
“No rest for the wicked apparently,” he mumbled as he tried to fight off a yawn. “Show me what you’ve decided to do before I fall asleep standin’ right here.”
She led the way down the hallway, glancing back at him as she talked. “You remember we decided in spite of all the natural light from that room it wasn’t large enough to work as a bedroom for either of us?”
“Uh-huh.” Was it necessary to go over all the reasons why the room wasn’t in use for anything but storage? Did she not understand that he was about to fall over where he’d just spend the rest of the night sleeping on the floor? Or at least until the next call came in.
“It came to me the other night and I started clearing the room out.”
He nodded dutifully and made the appropriate noises to indicate his interest in spite of his desire to duck into his room and leave her talking to herself.
“Okay,” she turned to face him and put her hands on his shoulders, “are you ready?”
He was so freakin’ ready! Was his enthusiasm and joy at this detour not obvious on his exhausted face? “Let’s see it.”
“Oh, wait, you have to take your socks off.”
He dropped his head and reached up to press his thumb and forefinger to his eyes. “Isabel…” He was trying his damnedest to be patient with her but his last nerve was frayed and this wasn’t helping.
“Please?”
He sighed and toed them off just enough to stand on the ends so he could pull them off without having to bend over and expend energy he didn’t have. He gestured to the socks and lifted his eyebrows as he waved his right hand in a ‘can we get on with it’ motion.
If she hadn’t known just how tired he was she would’ve expressed her opinion of his actions. But as it was, she was fully aware of his exhaustion, so she let it pass. Just not without a disparaging glance at the abandoned socks lying crumpled on the floor in front of him. “Okay,” she took his hands, “now close your eyes.”
He bit back the comment that came to mind and just did as she asked. “Make it quick because closed eyes equal sleep.” He felt the air around him shift as the door was opened, his tired mind briefly recognizing the fact that the door hinges didn’t squeak like they normally did. He moved forward when she pulled on his hands, frowning when his feet didn’t come into contact with the old wood flooring.
“Just a little bit further.”
He followed her lead, coming to a stop when she indicated they were far enough into the room. It was an odd-sized room, long and narrow. Yeah, he supposed the right person could use it as a bedroom, but they both liked room to move in their private space. Bedroom furniture would’ve left the room cramped with too much space at one end or the other. He felt her take a step back and to the side and heard her snap her fingers.
“Okay, now open your eyes.”
The walls that had been a sort of off-white had been painted a soft shade of brown, lending the narrow room the feeling of walking along a wooded path. He clenched his toes in the thick plush carpeting that was accented with a couple of red textured rugs and matching pillows. At the opposite end of the room a distressed wood bureau had been placed between the two floor-to-ceiling windows. Centered on the bureau was a Buddha statue, flanked by incense and candles that were lit.
Some of his exhaustion just melted away as the serene feeling of the room enveloped him. He released a surprised breath as he shook his head. Behind the statue was a framed poster and he snorted softly at the text printed on it in an Old English font: To thine own self be true.
“I thought you could use a focal point.”
He chuckled and looked at the wall to the left, his gaze searching the Tibetan tapestry hanging from a bamboo pole before turning his attention to the opposite wall. A bronzed frame formed the border of the wall mounted water fountain. Inset lighting revealed the water slowly flowing down to trickle over the polished stones that layered the bottom of the fountain and hid the equipment necessary to keep the water circulating. Two small shelves had been placed on either side of the fountain, each of them holding a small bonsai tree.
The room was a perfect retreat. A place to come and meditate, a place to let the stress and aggravation of life melt away. He could see how much work she had put into remodeling the room, the care she’d taken in selecting colors, art, carpet and especially the statue. More than any of the others she understood his need to meditate and she’d given him a real sanctuary to do that.
And he’d obviously read too much into it, he reminded himself as he finished off his O’Doul’s and motioned for something a little stronger to accompany the empty’s replacement.
“So, I’m just curious,” Michael said, pulling him out of his thoughts, “the whole Buddhist thing, I get that it’s your safe zone or whatever.” He made a face. He himself enjoyed time alone but the whole fat man statue, sitting around on a pillow, pruning tiny trees and meditating for endless periods of time, he didn’t get that.
“Is there a question comin’ sometime this century?”
“You do yoga in that room?”
“Why does it matter to you what I do in my meditation room?”
“Well, there’s just some things I’m unclear on.”
“Somehow I’ve got a feelin’ there’re a lot of things that fall in that category.”
“I was watchin’ the tube the other night and there was nothin’ on, no surprise there – “
“How do you have that many channels and find nothing to watch?”
“Maria was in a mood and it was late, alright? Anyway, there was this yoga class thing on the fitness channel and I’m tryin’ to figure out where they come up with these names. First off, there’s that whole downward facing dog thing. That just doesn’t seem all that meditative to me.”
He nearly choked on his Jack and Coke. “What?”
“And then there’s that monkey king pose thing. I mean, who can actually bend like that? The dude on the TV had one leg in front of him, one leg in back of him, and his crotch to the floor. Not only does that just not seem right, I don’t see how that’s physically possible. And then there’s this one called – “
“Let’s stop this conversation right here,” Kyle insisted as he held a hand up. “I’m not discussing yoga positions or their origins with you.”
“I just wanna know if you do crap like that.”
No, he didn’t. His meditation didn’t involve bending himself into improbable pretzel positions that he’d never get out of. “Michael, would you just get the hell outta here and go home?” He scrubbed his hands over his face. This was NOT the way he’d anticipated spending his New Years’ Eve.
Michael got up and scratched his chest as he let out a belch that had a guy at the end of the bar clapping. He turned and gave him a thumbs-up before grinning at Kyle. “I’m gonna hit the head an’ after that, me an’ you, we’re gonna get to the bottom of this so I can get back to my girl ‘cause I like you an’ all, but I’m not about to kiss your ugly mug at midnight.”
Kyle grimaced at the unwelcome thought that followed on the heels of that unwanted comment. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, waving Michael off towards the men’s room and thanking Buddha for the brief reprieve. It wouldn’t last long, but maybe it would be long enough to prepare for the next round. He focused on his breathing; inhale, exhale, repeat.
But it wasn’t long enough and he’d known there was no such thing where his friend was concerned. He jumped and his drink sloshed over the side of his glass when a hand landed against his back with more enthusiasm than he was in the mood for at the moment.
“Hey,” Michael called, flagging down one of the waitresses, “lemme get an order of your hottest wings over here with a side of onion rings. Oh, and bring a bottle of hot sauce with ‘em.”
“You want the Atomic Wings, honey?”
He grinned and nodded as he dropped down on his barstool next to Kyle again and he shrugged when his buddy just leveled a look at him. “What? The all-you-can-scarf buffet’s over at the Parker pub. And where am I? Here, tryin’ to get your sorry ass to cooperate so I can get back where I’m supposed to be.”
“Then go. I’m completely sober. I’m not gonna run out and play in traffic. I don’t have any intention of doin’ anything stupid tonight. I just wanna hang out by myself and have a couple of drinks without havin’ to explain my every move. Do you mind?”
Michael took a drink of his Coke and shrugged. “Nah, I don’t mind. If midnight comes around and I’m still here, then I’m gonna mind.”
He huffed out an irritated breath. “Michael, go bother Maria. You’re damn good at that and she actually enjoys it.” Well, he amended silently, she did most of the time anyway.
“Yeah, I know she does.” He grabbed another handful of peanuts. “But,” he mumbled around a mouthful, “she’s doin’ the singin’ thing tonight so it’s not like we’d be together anyway.”
Kyle shot a baleful look at the steaming platter of Atomic hot wings and onion rings that was slid on the counter in front of Michael. “Yeah, I’m sure she’s sorry she’s gonna miss out on that. Try to kiss her after downing that mix and you’re either gonna knock her out or melt her tonsils.”
Michael shrugged one shoulder and abandoned the peanuts in favor of the wings, stuffing one in his mouth and waiting to see if Valenti would offer anything up. It didn’t take long for his patience to run out. It was right about the same time the first Atomic Wing disappeared. “You two have a fight or somethin’?”
“Or somethin’,” he muttered as he took a sip of his Jack and Coke and let his mind wander back to two nights ago. The night he’d finally decided he’d had enough. Enough of waiting to be seen as more than her best friend, enough of waiting for her to finally let go of Alex and reach for him, enough of waiting for her to realize he was the guy who’d stick around through thick and thin, enough… hell, he’d just had enough.
And he’d walked out.
By: Kindred Kandies aka ArchAngel1973 in collaboration with Marsis
Disclaimer: Characters and plot lines that appeared in the series, the books, and the concept of Roswell are not ours. Belong to Melinda Metz, UPN, etc, etc…
Pairing: K&I but will also feature Michael & the others briefly.
Rating: Mature – Just to be safe.
Summary: Post-Graduation. A little conversation and reflection on New Year’s Eve as two people try to make sense of what they are to each other.
Author’s Note: For Novy – Happy New Year’s! Okay, it’s a tad late for New Year’s, but since it’s RF’s first day back up, it’s close enough.
Part 1
New Year’s Eve was a time of merriment for many people, a time of quiet reflection for others, and a time to make resolutions that while well meant would most likely be forgotten before the first week of the new year was even over. The celebration could be heard going on outside the walls of the quiet tavern, the city’s residents well into welcoming the New Year that was still a few hours away.
There were a handful of locals scattered around the tavern, all of them seeming to have sought out the quiet camaraderie of the establishment. It wasn’t a place frequented by kids from the university nearby; it was a sort of unspoken understanding that this place wasn’t for raucous gatherings. Very few outsiders ventured in and before long they bid their farewell and disappeared back out into the night. He knew given another hour or so even the people in the tavern would begin to liven up a bit and by 11pm they’d be in the mood to ring in the New Year.
He peeled back one corner of the bottle of O’Doul’s he held between his hands, sighing tiredly and shaking his head when the bartender made another pass and motioned to his drink. He’d had his share of New Years’ parties over the years and he’d made a ton of resolutions that’d been left by the wayside. This year he just didn’t have it in him to spend the evening ringing in the New Year at some party and he’d decided resolutions were a waste of time.
He didn’t hate New Year’s per se; he just wasn’t in the mood to celebrate a night that seemed destined to remind him of the one woman that remained just out of his grasp. For the past few years they’d spent December 31st together, sometimes with their family and friends, other times just the two of them. This was the first year he’d ever spent it alone and the first time since that stupid search for Enigma that he’d spent it without her.
He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, turning his head to glance over his shoulder when the door opened once again to admit some weary visitor. He rolled his eyes when he recognized the visitor and turned back to his beer to take a drink as he mentally prepared himself for what was coming.
“Just a Coke,” the man said when the bartender shuffled down to nod at the newcomer.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, El Capitan?”
Michael Guerin ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it to brush the snowflakes away before giving his friend the once-over. “You look like hell to the power of infinity.”
“Bite me,” Kyle Valenti muttered without bothering to look at him. “I thought you had plans for the evening?”
He reached for the Coke the bartender placed on the cocktail napkin in front of him and took a drink, making a face at the too-sweet taste. “I did and there was nothin’ in them about hangin’ out with you at a bar full of stiffs.”
“No one asked you to the party.”
“No, but someone did ask me to find you.”
Isabel. He immediately nixed that thought. No, she was the last person who’d be asking anyone to find him tonight. “Tell Dad to stop worryin’ about me and just rock into the New Year, alright?”
“That crap the Sheriff plays is about a billion light years away from anything resembling rock,” he snorted. “The girls wouldn’t get off my ass about makin’ sure you weren’t face-down in a bottle somewhere.”
“You have any idea how much of this crap I’d have to drink to be tanked?” He held the bottle up and waved it back and forth in front of the hybrid’s face. “I’d be here until next week. Unlike some people I can actually hold my liquor.” He set the bottle down again. “And while there’s alcohol in this stuff it’s not enough to even register on my radar.” He sighed and rolled his shoulders. “Look, I appreciate you guys checkin’ up on me, but I don’t need a babysitter for the night. Go back to the party over at the Parkers’ Pub and let me drag my ass into the New Year alone.”
“You know the hell I’m gonna have to deal with if I don’t come back with you?”
“You’ve put up your token protest, you can go now.”
He shook his head and drained his glass. “She’s not gonna be there.”
His hand tightened around the bottle. “If this’s gonna turn into one of those stupid touchy-feely talks you’re gonna have to go back and tell the girls to do better than sendin’ in the B Team because you suck at it.”
“What’s up with the bitchy mood?” He grabbed a handful of peanuts and tossed them in his mouth, chewing them as he contemplated the situation. He nodded when his friend just shot a look at him before facing front again and taking another long slow drink. “Separation anxiety from the little fat man, right?”
“You’re really not helpin’ matters, El Capitan.”
“She’s not home tonight if you wanna go home an’ pray or whatever it is you do.” He made a face. He still didn’t get the whole Buddhist thing his buddy was into. “Anyway, just sayin’ if you need to go home and say a few chants you’ve got the all clear.”
He waved his left hand dismissively. “It’ll wait.”
“You want me to go over to the house, get the fat man for you?” He shifted to rest his weight on his right elbow, one eyebrow lifting as he smirked. “I’m sure the Sheriff wouldn’t mind letting Buddha move in too.”
“I think it’d unnerve Dad if he had to look at my statue on a regular basis.” And while he could meditate anywhere he was fairly partial to his meditation room at home. It had been a gift from Isabel the year before; she’d turned the third bedroom in their apartment into a sanctuary and he’d loved it the moment he’d seen it.
“Okay, close your eyes.”
“Isabel, it’s been a long day and I’m beat.” The temperature had peaked at eight degrees. He’d been at it before sunrise and it was well after dark now. He’d pulled cars out of ditches, jump started dead batteries, changed flat tires, and assisted with lockouts. He wanted out of his grimy clothes, a hot shower, a hot meal, and his bed… in that order.
She’d been waiting for him when he’d walked through the front door, a big smile on her face, her beautiful eyes shining with happiness. She had grabbed his hand, the smile momentarily slipping when her hands came in contact with grease as they slid across his palm. But it returned full force a heartbeat later as her powers gently removed any traces of the offensive substance.
“Please?”
They’d been living together since coming to Canada, sharing space and friendship, and to his dismay, nothing more. For two years he’d thrown himself into his work and when he wasn’t at work he was either working out, meditating, or hanging out with the guys. How much could a guy take?
“I know what to do with the third bedroom.”
They’d been using that room for storage since they’d moved in. He couldn’t care less what she wanted to do with it. He tried hard not to roll his eyes or sigh in irritation or do anything else that would hurt her feelings. He could see that whatever it was, it was important to her that he see it and be excited about it. “Just lemme get my outer gear off, okay?”
“Have you had dinner?” she asked, watching him as he stripped the gear off and she lifted an eyebrow when he hung everything in easy reach of the front door rather than stowing it away for the night.
“No, not yet.”
“You’re on call tonight?”
He rolled his shoulders and moved his head from side to side in an effort to ease the tension in his muscles. “Yeah.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous. You’ve been on call for the past five days.”
“No rest for the wicked apparently,” he mumbled as he tried to fight off a yawn. “Show me what you’ve decided to do before I fall asleep standin’ right here.”
She led the way down the hallway, glancing back at him as she talked. “You remember we decided in spite of all the natural light from that room it wasn’t large enough to work as a bedroom for either of us?”
“Uh-huh.” Was it necessary to go over all the reasons why the room wasn’t in use for anything but storage? Did she not understand that he was about to fall over where he’d just spend the rest of the night sleeping on the floor? Or at least until the next call came in.
“It came to me the other night and I started clearing the room out.”
He nodded dutifully and made the appropriate noises to indicate his interest in spite of his desire to duck into his room and leave her talking to herself.
“Okay,” she turned to face him and put her hands on his shoulders, “are you ready?”
He was so freakin’ ready! Was his enthusiasm and joy at this detour not obvious on his exhausted face? “Let’s see it.”
“Oh, wait, you have to take your socks off.”
He dropped his head and reached up to press his thumb and forefinger to his eyes. “Isabel…” He was trying his damnedest to be patient with her but his last nerve was frayed and this wasn’t helping.
“Please?”
He sighed and toed them off just enough to stand on the ends so he could pull them off without having to bend over and expend energy he didn’t have. He gestured to the socks and lifted his eyebrows as he waved his right hand in a ‘can we get on with it’ motion.
If she hadn’t known just how tired he was she would’ve expressed her opinion of his actions. But as it was, she was fully aware of his exhaustion, so she let it pass. Just not without a disparaging glance at the abandoned socks lying crumpled on the floor in front of him. “Okay,” she took his hands, “now close your eyes.”
He bit back the comment that came to mind and just did as she asked. “Make it quick because closed eyes equal sleep.” He felt the air around him shift as the door was opened, his tired mind briefly recognizing the fact that the door hinges didn’t squeak like they normally did. He moved forward when she pulled on his hands, frowning when his feet didn’t come into contact with the old wood flooring.
“Just a little bit further.”
He followed her lead, coming to a stop when she indicated they were far enough into the room. It was an odd-sized room, long and narrow. Yeah, he supposed the right person could use it as a bedroom, but they both liked room to move in their private space. Bedroom furniture would’ve left the room cramped with too much space at one end or the other. He felt her take a step back and to the side and heard her snap her fingers.
“Okay, now open your eyes.”
The walls that had been a sort of off-white had been painted a soft shade of brown, lending the narrow room the feeling of walking along a wooded path. He clenched his toes in the thick plush carpeting that was accented with a couple of red textured rugs and matching pillows. At the opposite end of the room a distressed wood bureau had been placed between the two floor-to-ceiling windows. Centered on the bureau was a Buddha statue, flanked by incense and candles that were lit.
Some of his exhaustion just melted away as the serene feeling of the room enveloped him. He released a surprised breath as he shook his head. Behind the statue was a framed poster and he snorted softly at the text printed on it in an Old English font: To thine own self be true.
“I thought you could use a focal point.”
He chuckled and looked at the wall to the left, his gaze searching the Tibetan tapestry hanging from a bamboo pole before turning his attention to the opposite wall. A bronzed frame formed the border of the wall mounted water fountain. Inset lighting revealed the water slowly flowing down to trickle over the polished stones that layered the bottom of the fountain and hid the equipment necessary to keep the water circulating. Two small shelves had been placed on either side of the fountain, each of them holding a small bonsai tree.
The room was a perfect retreat. A place to come and meditate, a place to let the stress and aggravation of life melt away. He could see how much work she had put into remodeling the room, the care she’d taken in selecting colors, art, carpet and especially the statue. More than any of the others she understood his need to meditate and she’d given him a real sanctuary to do that.
And he’d obviously read too much into it, he reminded himself as he finished off his O’Doul’s and motioned for something a little stronger to accompany the empty’s replacement.
“So, I’m just curious,” Michael said, pulling him out of his thoughts, “the whole Buddhist thing, I get that it’s your safe zone or whatever.” He made a face. He himself enjoyed time alone but the whole fat man statue, sitting around on a pillow, pruning tiny trees and meditating for endless periods of time, he didn’t get that.
“Is there a question comin’ sometime this century?”
“You do yoga in that room?”
“Why does it matter to you what I do in my meditation room?”
“Well, there’s just some things I’m unclear on.”
“Somehow I’ve got a feelin’ there’re a lot of things that fall in that category.”
“I was watchin’ the tube the other night and there was nothin’ on, no surprise there – “
“How do you have that many channels and find nothing to watch?”
“Maria was in a mood and it was late, alright? Anyway, there was this yoga class thing on the fitness channel and I’m tryin’ to figure out where they come up with these names. First off, there’s that whole downward facing dog thing. That just doesn’t seem all that meditative to me.”
He nearly choked on his Jack and Coke. “What?”
“And then there’s that monkey king pose thing. I mean, who can actually bend like that? The dude on the TV had one leg in front of him, one leg in back of him, and his crotch to the floor. Not only does that just not seem right, I don’t see how that’s physically possible. And then there’s this one called – “
“Let’s stop this conversation right here,” Kyle insisted as he held a hand up. “I’m not discussing yoga positions or their origins with you.”
“I just wanna know if you do crap like that.”
No, he didn’t. His meditation didn’t involve bending himself into improbable pretzel positions that he’d never get out of. “Michael, would you just get the hell outta here and go home?” He scrubbed his hands over his face. This was NOT the way he’d anticipated spending his New Years’ Eve.
Michael got up and scratched his chest as he let out a belch that had a guy at the end of the bar clapping. He turned and gave him a thumbs-up before grinning at Kyle. “I’m gonna hit the head an’ after that, me an’ you, we’re gonna get to the bottom of this so I can get back to my girl ‘cause I like you an’ all, but I’m not about to kiss your ugly mug at midnight.”
Kyle grimaced at the unwelcome thought that followed on the heels of that unwanted comment. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, waving Michael off towards the men’s room and thanking Buddha for the brief reprieve. It wouldn’t last long, but maybe it would be long enough to prepare for the next round. He focused on his breathing; inhale, exhale, repeat.
But it wasn’t long enough and he’d known there was no such thing where his friend was concerned. He jumped and his drink sloshed over the side of his glass when a hand landed against his back with more enthusiasm than he was in the mood for at the moment.
“Hey,” Michael called, flagging down one of the waitresses, “lemme get an order of your hottest wings over here with a side of onion rings. Oh, and bring a bottle of hot sauce with ‘em.”
“You want the Atomic Wings, honey?”
He grinned and nodded as he dropped down on his barstool next to Kyle again and he shrugged when his buddy just leveled a look at him. “What? The all-you-can-scarf buffet’s over at the Parker pub. And where am I? Here, tryin’ to get your sorry ass to cooperate so I can get back where I’m supposed to be.”
“Then go. I’m completely sober. I’m not gonna run out and play in traffic. I don’t have any intention of doin’ anything stupid tonight. I just wanna hang out by myself and have a couple of drinks without havin’ to explain my every move. Do you mind?”
Michael took a drink of his Coke and shrugged. “Nah, I don’t mind. If midnight comes around and I’m still here, then I’m gonna mind.”
He huffed out an irritated breath. “Michael, go bother Maria. You’re damn good at that and she actually enjoys it.” Well, he amended silently, she did most of the time anyway.
“Yeah, I know she does.” He grabbed another handful of peanuts. “But,” he mumbled around a mouthful, “she’s doin’ the singin’ thing tonight so it’s not like we’d be together anyway.”
Kyle shot a baleful look at the steaming platter of Atomic hot wings and onion rings that was slid on the counter in front of Michael. “Yeah, I’m sure she’s sorry she’s gonna miss out on that. Try to kiss her after downing that mix and you’re either gonna knock her out or melt her tonsils.”
Michael shrugged one shoulder and abandoned the peanuts in favor of the wings, stuffing one in his mouth and waiting to see if Valenti would offer anything up. It didn’t take long for his patience to run out. It was right about the same time the first Atomic Wing disappeared. “You two have a fight or somethin’?”
“Or somethin’,” he muttered as he took a sip of his Jack and Coke and let his mind wander back to two nights ago. The night he’d finally decided he’d had enough. Enough of waiting to be seen as more than her best friend, enough of waiting for her to finally let go of Alex and reach for him, enough of waiting for her to realize he was the guy who’d stick around through thick and thin, enough… hell, he’d just had enough.
And he’d walked out.