Page 31 of Let Leaves Lay Where They Fall

“What’s the matter?” Sebastian notes the shift in Jamie’s mood.

He folds the slip and sticks it in his pants pocket. “He did leave a $52 tip.” Jamie couldn't help but laugh. “So, I guess my cold shoulder paid off.”

The crew all join in the giggle.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here. I’ve got a couple to catch up with.” Sebastian claps his hands and lifts a large basin full of dirty glasses, headed for the kitchen.

The well-oiled machine all get to work, tidying and setting the restaurant up for tomorrow. They can get it all done in 15 minutes flat when they aren’t sipping cocktails and dancing to the music. Everyone likes to go out on a Friday night. So, they can go do other things.

Jamie’s walk home is chilly. Time to break out the winter jackets.

He tucks his hands in his pants pockets for warmth. Fumbling the little folded slip of paper with his fingers.

Andrew is tucked away as usual. Jamie skips his usual stop by the fridge for a snack. After his stomach being in knots for the last couple hours, he didn't have the appetite. Which is strange.

Peeling away his stinky work clothes, down to little purple briefs. He pulls the folded slip from the pants pocket and sets it on the nightstand, next to his mobile phone. Folds the corner of his quilt down and slips into the bed. Rolling on his side… staring at the little paper.

He closes his eyes, inviting sleep.

Maybe the rush of adrenaline his body was racked by half the night or being stone cold sober are the reason he’s wide awake. Maybe it’s the little note sending telepathic whispers to his restless mind.

He reaches out and flips the fold open with an index finger, pinching the paper between thumb and middle finger. Holding it just inches from his nose. He stares at the words. Studying the scratchy handwriting.

“Jamie,

I’m really sorry. Here is my number. I hope you’ll call or text me. I’d really love to hear from you but understand if I don’t.

Nathan.”

Knowing he’ll probably regret it but still, he swipes the glass screen. Taps in the number on the slip and whooshes away a text message. Holding the off button, until the phone goes dark. He sets it away, back on the nightstand and rolls over, to sleep.

Chapter 13

Coffee

After a second round snoozing the alarm. Nathan wakes. He grinds the sleep from his good eye with the heel of a palm and withdraws a tingling limb from underneath Mabel. Wincing at the agonizing ache in his shoulder from lack of blood flow under the weight of her head.

She snorts. Flapping jowls on a rumbling exhale. Unbothered by his movement. She’s a champion sleeper.

The studio apartment is still dark, except for the pale blue glow from a new moon pouring in the big window at the opposite end of the room. His naked body quivers in the frigid air. Rubbing his furry belly like a magic lamp, wishing to generate body heat. He takes three quick strides from bed to bathroom. Fires up the shower and cranks the dial to its warmest setting.

A steaming hot shower washes the night away and gets his blood pumping for the day ahead.

He blots dry with a fluffy yellow towel, wrapping it around his waist, strolling to the kitchenette and starting the coffee pot brewing.

He slips on black boxer briefs, a pair of jeans that could use washing and a white t-shirt with cracked and faded Las Vegas logo printed across the chest. The studio fills with the invigorating aroma of a dark Colombian blend.

Saturday mornings are even quieter on the neighborhood streets. All the weekday’s nine to fivers sleep in. Nathan slurps his sweetened sludge. Standing at the window, looking out over the roofs across the street. The moon hangs low in the sky, barely peeking over shingled roofs, preparing to hide in the sunlight of the coming day. He cradles the warm mug in both palms letting the rising hot vapor caress his skin and rouse his senses.

Mabel sprawls awake on the bed. Stumpy legs kicking sheets and blankets into a mangled pileup. She lifts her head and scans the room. Tilt and smiling when her eyes find Nathan.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He beams back at her.

She slides off the edge of the bed, her thick body stretching like pulled dough until all four paws meet the floor. Yawning, her big goofy tongue falls out. She shakes away the lameness in her muscles from the long night.

“Are you ready to go for a walk?” He dumps a final swig in his mouth and sets the empty mug on the kitchen counter, reaching for the leash hung beside the door.

Mabel’s eyes bulge and she flop-foots over to his feet. Wagging her entire hind quarter and snorting impatience.

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