Page 141 of Two Marlboros

She walked back toward me, with slow steps; when she was close enough, she barely moved her head as if to tell me to speak. I wasn’t sure why I was doing this or if it was right. I only knew that she was the only person, out of a total of six billion, to whom I could confide everything I was about to say.

“I need ...” I began, but the words came out with difficulty, “... you.”

She looked around to make sure there was no one there to interrupt us, but the bookstore was empty. She approached the shutter anyway and lowered it some more, and the dimness gradually enveloped us. She came back to me, saying nothing, only with a faint smile.

“You think...” I began in a low voice, clearing my throat the next moment. “Do you think it’s too early for...?”

She brought a hand to my cheek to caress it, and her smile of pure acceptance made it hard for me to say anything else.

“Is there someone new in your life? Is that what you’re saying?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and my eyes became moist. Nathan was right: naming things made them real, and it was scary.

“In a way,” I replied in a voice broken with emotion.

I couldn’t look at her in the eye, not without the idea that I was betraying her brother’s memory. Her hand, still on my cheek, became wet with one of my tears.

“Alan, look at me,” she urged, and I obeyed. “This is a beautiful thing, okay? Are you together?”

She was sincere, I could see it in her gaze. But I knew she would be the only person happy about such news.

“No, we’re just friends for now.”

Nelly lowered her hand that was caressing me until she found mine. She grabbed it and led me toward the desk, perhaps to bring to light not only me but also my feelings. Instead, she made room by setting aside the papers on it and we both took our places on the edge, the light behind us. She crossed her feet and swung her legs, away from the floor; mine, however, almost touched the ground.

“Do you think he likes you?”

“Maybe,” I answered offhandedly. “I mean,” and I lost a beat, because, damn it, that way of talking was his, “I don’t know. We’re pretty close, and on one occasion he even kissed me for fun, but I don’t know if that means anything.”

“He kissed you for fun?” she chuckled. “Alan, you don’t kiss anyone for fun, trust me. If someone says that, it’s because they have interest and want to test the waters.”

I thought back to when our lips had brushed against each other at Webster Hall that night, how that kiss was only supposed to serve the purpose of keeping those two girls from getting closer, and how it had seemed too long lasting for that to be the only motivation.

“So, in short,” she continued with a smile on her lips, “if you like him and he reciprocates, what’s the problem?”

“There’s his ex in the way,” I replied. Another lump in my throat squeezed it in an instant. “And I have mine.”

I thought back to all the people who expected something from me, and maybe they wanted me to be with someone like Oliver. He and Nathan were so different.

“Nelly, do you think...” I stumbled, and struggled to get those words out, “...nine months is a short time to-”

“Alan.” She brought a hand to my cheek, forcing me to turn my head and look into her eyes. “You’re not asking if nine months is short for you, you know? But only if they are forpeople, lest they think you have already forgotten your great love.”

“You are asking my permission to fall in love,” she continued, and that last word caused me to tremble, which she welcomed and cradled with her hand caressing me. “And who am I to say no to you? You are experiencing emotions, and that means you are alive. You are alive, Alan.”

I had been alive, for the past month. I moved her hand away and brought mine to my face to cover it and contain my sobs, but Nelly encircled me in a half-hug and let my head rest on her shoulder and let not only my body be shaken by crying, but reflexively hers as well.

Yes, many emotions had been awakened in me, emotions I thought lost forever. Nathan had wrenched me from apathy, revived me from the ashes under which I had buried myself, and now there I was, standing in front of Nelly, wondering if it was wrong to fall in love with him, if it was permissible to even think of it. Yet as the seconds passed, my feeling for Nathan became more and more natural, an obvious truth that lost, moment by moment, its ability to shock me.

The lump in my throat melted away, until only traces of the crying remained. The air was filled again only with the silence between us and the hushed murmur of the world outside. A few more minutes of silence passed, until I found the courage to continue that conversation.

“What about Oliver?” I whispered.

“He’s dead. You can build castles in the air with his memory, but you cannot build a life with him. No one will criticize you for that.”

“What if...” I tried to say, before the lump in my throat blocked every word again. Nathan wasn’t the problem, it wasn’t even Oliver: it was me. Me and my feelings, enemies of my public policy and my sanity.

“What if I fall in love with him and find out...”

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