On the Edge of Tomorrow

Chapter 3

Fall had slipped to winter before I saw Billy Collins again. We had minimally kept in touch, a few emails, a couple of late-night phone calls. They each came with a hollow feeling; he was lonely, and I was powerless to change that despite any wishes to the contrary. 

My roommates had headed home for the holidays on the snowy December evening. I had settled onto the couch, content to read the history of salt from a book someone left on the coffee table. The knock immediately irritated me, causing me to rip the door open with more force than necessary. His head snapped up at the unexpected energy.

"Billy?" He was there, as physical as the door I clung to for stability.

"Hey, Lil." His words came acute and dripped with uncertainty.

"What are you doing here?" My surprise made the words come harsher than intended.

"I'm sorry. I should've called." His dark eyes dipped to the floor as his hair fell into his face. He looked much younger with downcast eyes.

"No." I reached for his arm, hoping to raise his face and spirits. "That's not what I meant. I'm just surprised. Come inside." My words came out quickly and wavered from the heavy hand of guilt. His eyes flickered up as his lips pursed into a tight line. I moved aside and tugged on his arm to usher him in with a softer "how are you?"

"Good." His voice came coarse like rock salt from overuse and too many cigarettes. "I don't mean to intrude," he offered again.

"Billy, you aren't an intrusion." His quiet presence warred with his substantial physical stature. "How are you?"

"Well." It was unconvincing, and the subtle nod didn't help.

"I missed you." My words came low, matching the mood of the room, causing his eyes to dart up again.

"Sorry I didn't stay in better touch. It's been..." His words tapered off to nothing.

"Let me take your coat." I held out my hands as he shrugged off the coat. The thick leather landed heavier than expected in my hands. The smoke from countless cigarettes saturated the material. "Tea." It should've come as a question, but it wasn't.

Billy awkwardly settled on one of the cheap wooden chairs around the small table in the kitchen space. His size made the chair appear child-sized.

"What brings you back my way?" I harmlessly asked as I set the kettle to boil.

Billy's eyes dashed from me when I turned to him. "Mixing," he mumbled.

I gave a soft smile. "I'm glad you're here." A loaded pause hung in the air as I gazed at him and he stared at the floor. We were disconnected. Sporadic calls and emails were better than being detached. It tore into me. "Billy, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry I didn't stay in better touch." His words came rehearsed but still heavy with admission.

"Communication is two-way."

"I intended..."

"Billy, can we cut through the bullshit?"

His eyes blinked up at my abrasive ask. "I should upset you."

"And why is that?"

"I made a promise that I didn't keep."

"Did you?"

"I wanted to continue..."

A laugh slipped from me before I even realized it was brewing, but the kettle disrupted my thoughts before any words could follow. I turned to tend to the tea with the lingering trace of humor on my lips. I set a steaming mug in front of Billy before settling into my chair.