Page 34 of Play of Love
“I was a PA for the editor in chief at Style Magazine in New York.”
Fashion. That explained a lot. I was used to Allegra and Cindy who always looked great, but there was a certain class about Amy that made me want to look and appreciate the efforts she made. Like the top she wore today. It looked beautiful but she’d given it more class by adding a small hummingbird broach near her right shoulder. The bird had blue gems encrusted on its pure gold body.
The attention diverted my focus towards the intricacy of the broach and away from the slight hint of cleavage she displayed. If it was either Allegra or Cindy, then there would be no end to the amount of breast they showed. Not that I complained. It was just a distinction I noticed.
“Sounds interesting.”
“It was great.”
I wanted to ask why she left but didn’t, I didn’t want to pry too much. She hadn’t pried with me, and there was a lot to pry about.
“Okay, I’ll let you get on.”
I left her and thought back to when we first met. They really had started off on the wrong foot. But hey, here I was trying and I was just looking forward to getting tomorrow out the way.
Later she left with Hilda, talking excitedly about going shopping for a new eyeliner. That was one thing about women I didn’t get. How could they be so excited about something like that?
I got my clothes ready for tomorrow. I didn’t want anything extravagant so turned down the option for a stylist. I’d been doing shows long enough to know what to wear and what suited me. That was always one of my dark-colored Boss suits. Only Boss made suits tailored to fit my height and build the way I wanted. I took out a black one from my wardrobe and added a white shirt and a tie with blue specks on it.
The landline rang as I was about to sort out my shoes. It would be Dad. I listened out for the rings until it kicked on the answer machine, then came his voice.
“Hey son. It’s me. Just seeing how you are. I’ll be watching your show tomorrow. Let me know if you need me to come by. I’d like to support you and be there.” I marveled at how Dad always tried to sound cheerful. “It’s Clarissa’s birthday on Sunday. I just wondered if maybe you’d like to come with me to the cemetery. We can get some flowers and maybe do something. Pete will be there. I’d like to see you too.”
I stilled.
An uncontrollable tear ran down my cheek. I’d been so wrapped up in this show that I forgot it was Clarissa’s birthday on Sunday.
I’d never forget when her birthday was, as in the date. It was more of the case that time was so jumbled in my mind that I just got from one day to the next on a whim.
I walked over to the phone and picked it up.
“Josh,” Dad said.
I opened my mouth to answer but found it too difficult. We hadn’t spoken since the funeral and there was so much I wanted to say but couldn’t. And I couldn’t go Sunday. Pete was Clarissa’s fiancé, who was still so in love with her and distraught by her death. How was I to face either of them?
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so, so sorry.” That was all I could say.
“Josh.” Dad’s voice filled me, but it was too much to bear. “Joshua, my boy… it—”
I hung up the phone and sank into the despair that would normally overtake me at this hour. It was like a thick blanket of darkness.
I made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of rum from the pantry. It was the only medication for this problem, and the only way I knew how to deal with the oncoming grief that would accompany the despair that filled my soul.
* * *
Amy
* * *
“Hey sweet girl,” Mom said in her warm, soothing, southern accent.
“Hey Mama, are you okay?” I called her the minute I got back. I hadn’t managed to speak to her last night because Tristan said she had a rough day from a bad cold.
“I’m better. I even managed to tend to the vegetables patch.” Mom did sound more cheerful.
“I was worried.”
“I know. Don’t be.”
