View from the rooftop bar of the Park hotel
I’ve been mourning the loss of Elaine too long now—I had my chance and blew it—and now she’s gone.
I came out tonight in the rain to bury my blues in drink and maybe spill out my angst to Joe behind the bar.
But suddenly this strange girl seems to light up the room and I’m thinking that maybe this girl might just quench this torch I’ve been carrying so long.
“I’m Charlotte,” she says.
“I’m Paul. Pleased to know you.”
Joe has a puzzled look as he drops the two drinks—a double rye on the rocks and the fruity concoction I’m sure he doesn’t make that often.
Suddenly, there’s a mighty crash of thunder and the lights go out.
A groan arises from the crowd but Joe calls out, “Don’t worry, folks, we’ve got lots of candles.”
Within minutes, the bar is aglow and we have our own sconce flickering before us.
Charlotte giggles merrily. “I love the ambiance—somehow it seems appropriate.”
I couldn’t agree more. Her backlit hair enchants me as her face momentarily catches light and then recedes into shadows. She’s so mysterious and alluring.
And I’m intoxicated with the mystique of the storm, the magic of the moment and the fascination of her charm.
“So, I take it you’ve been rained upon,” she whispers seductively, stirring a tiny potion in her glass.
“I feel like I parachuted out into the night and have been borne by the wind—drifting aimlessly forever, it seems.”
“Well, I can see you’re kind of a poet—you must be a writer,” she laughs—the tones of her laughter running up and down my spine like notes on a piano.
“You’re very good at this,” I chuckle, “ don’t tell me you’re a therapist.”
Her eyes grow dark and intense. “Not a therapist, but very good at reading minds.”
“All right, I’ll bite,” I laugh, and then grow a bit uneasy over my choice of words.
She ignores the double entendre preferring to move in the murky gloomy depths where my soul is marooned.
“It’s a woman—a beautiful woman—you want to reach her, but can’t because you’re frozen.”
I put down my glass and stare at her. “That’s incredible. I can see you’re a sensitive.”
“I like diving into strange waters,” she smiles.
“I’m curious—besides being insightful, can you suggest a solution?”
Her eyes dance. “How interesting—you come to a place with a view, but only to escape.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she smiles bewitchingly, “the answer lies in you.”
At that moment, Joe, the bartender, interrupts. “Last call—do you want another round?”
“Sure—a double rye for me, and a strawberry gimlet for the lady.”
His eyes narrow. “What lady?”
“The one sitting right…” I stop in mid-sentence. The stool beside me is empty.
“She must have gone to the washroom,” I offer.
“There’s been nobody sitting there all night.”
“Don’t be ridiculous—who’s been drinking the gimlets?”
His face is stolid. “You have—you’ve been drinking double ryes and chasing them with gimlets all night. Say, are you okay to drive—do you need me to call you a cab?”
“No, no, I walked here—I’m fine,” I mutter, but I’m not.
Feeling dazed, I pay the bill and ride down the elevator. But Joe is right—I’m far too shaky to get far on my own. I take a cab home.
I’m still feeling tremors throughout my body when I get home. It may not be wise, but I pour myself another drink and end up back on my couch staring out the window at the rain.
I sit there a few minutes and then flip my laptop open to check my mail. My heart leaps—an email from Elaine.
Hey Paul,
I really enjoyed our talk tonight at the Park Hotel. I really hope you meant it when you said you wanted to meet again.
I’m free tomorrow night. Give me a call.
I stare at the screen in shock and disbelief. This is totally crazy—insane. I must be hallucinating—losing my mind.
I reach into my pocket for the anti-depression meds the doctor prescribed for me. I pull out the pill bottle and a folded paper flutters onto the coffee table.
On it is written Elaine’s address and telephone number.