The return makes one love the farewell.
~Alfred de Musset
***
Savannah wondered when it would stop. It did rain in LA in February, but this much, not quite. And she'd forgotten to check the weather beforehand, as usual. So well, she had no umbrella. Which is why, here she was, standing under the canopy of a café, waiting for the rain to subside. She was listening to her current mood playing in her earphones. The song had been her mood for the past four months.
Just then, a man rushed under the canopy, his hand brushing hers in the process. She stilled, as a familiar zing rushed through her body, alighting a fire in the deepest, most buried parts of her. She knew that touch. But she didn't dare look up. What if it was just her? Wishful thinking and all that. What if the man wasn't who she thought him to be? Her brain was telling her to be rational and not look up. She would end up disappointed if he wasn't who she wished he was.
But her heart obviously thought otherwise, which was why she looked up and found the man already looking down at her. She gasped and then snapped her head to look at her feet.
Holy shit, it was him! It was Zac.
How was he here? Why was he here?
She looked back up, just to be sure it was indeed him. And he was, looking right back at her. This time, however, she didn't look away. She stared right back at him. It was after six months that she was seeing him today. She didn't want to look away. Couldn't.
She had a proper look at him. He looked weary and tired. Like he hadn't been able to have a good sleep. Like he was drowning himself in work just for the sake of it. Like he hadn't been eating—or drinking his fluids—properly.
After a few moments, when his phone buzzed, he broke their staring contest to answer it. She mentally fanned herself as he looked the other way. The weather was getting warmer, wasn't it?
They didn't acknowledge each other for a while after he was off call. It was getting weirder and more awkward by the second. Either one of them had to do something.
"Hey, can I buy you coffee or something?" he asked at the same time she did, "You wanna catch up maybe?" making both of them chuckle.
"So catching up on coffee sounds good?"
"Sure does."
Again she was bereft of speech, not in the speechless way, in the I-don't-know-what-I'm-supposed-to-say way.
She was so thankful when he broke the ice and said, "This café looks nice. Cozy. We could do the catching up over coffee here, if that works for you. Or, if you have some better place, we could go there."
"In this weather? I'd rather not, and stay here. I like it here, it's small and homely."
"Yeah. Uh, you wanna sit in or, uh, out?"
"In sounds so much better right now." They settled down in a secluded, comfy booth in the corner. She ordered an Almond Latte while he went for his usual, ordinary black coffee. She smiled, he was a black coffee guy all right.
"How's everything back home?"
"Everything's amazing. Everyone's doing well too. They miss you." He shook his head. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that."
"It's all right. How about Stella? How's lawyering and all going?"
"She's enjoying it. I mean, I don't understand how someone can enjoy studying the law, but yeah, she does...so it's okay, I guess. As long as kiddo gets to do what she loves I'm game."
She smiled again. She'd missed his big brother talks. "I see. So...what brings you to LA?"
"Here for some business. It's my first time coming to LA."
Taken aback, she asked, "You've never been here before, for real?"
"Nope. Anyway, tell me about you. What's up with your food-life?"
"It's good. Been on a break for the past month. My sis-in-law gave birth to my gorgeous nephew on December 20. They named him Melvin. Melvin Reece—has a nice ring to it. Apparently, using some mathematical derivation, they came to the conclusion that Davian plus Melissa made Melvin—" she held up a hand "—do not ask me how. But he goes by Levy; I mean, we make him go by Levy."
"I see."
"I don't understand how Davian plus Melissa makes Melvin. Nor do I understand how Melvin's nickname can be Levy. God, there's some serious problem with my Dave and Mel's brains."
"Anyway." She took out her phone, searched through it for something, then showed it to him. "That's him. He's so cute, and so small. His fingers are so tiny. I was the first family member to hold him besides Dave—but he's the father, so he doesn't count, nor does Mel. When I held him, he felt so fragile. Like I'd break him with one touch. And he was so pink, and so chubby, his eyes so huge for his face."
"He is. How did it feel, holding him?"
"Reviving. Rejuvenating. Whole. Like all this while I haven't been quite awake, haven't been lively enough. Like I've been missing a part of myself. Levy—though I don't understand how Levy sounds like Melvin; but the boy I held looked way more Levy than he will ever look Melvin, so yeah I'm always going with Levy—he is such a beautiful little guy. He's going to be much more of a heartbreaker than his dad ever was. Dave wasn't the use-and-throw kind. Maybe, in that sense, Levy's gonna turn out like you." She smiled.
Realizing her terrible choice of words a little late, she paused. "Shit. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was, you were the college Adonis. Every single woman used to fawn over you, the gay crowd couldn't stop looking at you, as for the straight guys, they got supremely jealous of you—getting every girls attention and all that. When you spoke, all girls, including me, used to hang on to every word that you said, every single syllable, like you were quoting the Bible or something. Dave was never that kind. He was the silent boy in the corner. Dave and I are much too similar in that way, I guess."
He didn't say, but it hurt. That comment about him being the use-and-throw kind. And why wouldn't it, it was true after all. He had been that kind. Too arrogant, too proud, too unapologetic, too unabashed for his own good. He realized it now. It was why Savannah had rejected him that night, right? She didn't believe she could be his one and only. And it wasn't her fault that she didn't. He didn't have the best track record in that field, and he hadn't given her a good reason to believe him, either. She was right where she was coming from, but it hurt, nonetheless.
"You knew the gender beforehand?" he asked out of nowhere, in hopes of steering the conversation elsewhere.
"No! If I'd known, I'd've called off the bet much earlier. I lost twenty bucks to my brother."
"I don't think I'm following you."
"The day when I came to know about their pregnancy, in my excitement I bet my brother twenty bucks that it would be a girl. My "aunt's intuition," she said, giving it air quotes, "said I'd get a niece. But it so happens that there is no such thing called 'aunt's intuition'."
He smiled. "Obviously there isn't. I didn't think you believed in such things."
"Why not? There's stuff like father's intuition and mother's intuition. Why shouldn't there be an aunt's or uncle's intuition? That's so biased. I mean, like, what? The aunt is supposed to sit staring at your faces when the would-be parents debate things based on their respective instincts? What rubbish."
He chuckled. "I see it has hurt you a lot."
"Enough about me. How's Le Saveurs going? It was one of the best kitchens I'd ever worked in, and the staff was so good."
"It's good. Lily misses you a lot."
"She was cute, Lily. Very adorable being floored and flattered."
Once again they settled into a very uncomfortable silence. It was never supposed to be like this between them. It also didn't escape her that neither of them had used their respective names while talking to each other. Not once. He hadn't called her Savannah even once, nor had she referred to him as Zac. It was as if calling one another by their names would make this so much more real. She didn't want that, and apparently, neither did he. All both of them wanted was to bask in this dream for a little longer.
She huffed. She had to break the ice now. Just had to. "So this is your first time in LA you say?"
"Yep. We were looking to have another hotel. LA seemed like a really good prospect."
Savannah exhaled. She'd gotten to see him after six months, she was not yet ready to let him go. She wanted to spend more time with him. So she took the leap and asked, "You okay with spending the day together?" She bit her bottom lip nervously.
What if he said no? What if he doesn't want to spend time with you? What if he has to leave already? What if he has a girlfriend? Six months is a long time after all. Damn you, Heart. At least ask me once before doing such shenanigans, her brain rebuked her heart. The damage was already done though.
But then she heard him mutter under his breath, "I thought you'd never ask." Apparently that wasn't meant for her to be heard, so she didn't point it out either, she just waited. Then, when he gave her the most stunning smile and said, "Sure. Of course," she couldn't help the grin that overtook her face.
"So where to?" he asked once they were out of the café. The rain had also stopped, and the sky looked so sunny as if there was no rain to begin with.
"Around the city," she told him in a duh tone.
"Just like that? We're walking around the city?"
"Yes!"
"And what if I said I didn't have the stamina or the energy to walk around?
"Then I'll just say that you might never get this time with me again."
She wasn't wrong. Spending time with her in any way would always have its plus points. Having her by him would definitely outdo all the possible pessimism. It was going to be a good day, he decided, smiling.
—x—
As they walked around the city, she talked endlessly, and he listened. Just listened. It still seemed surreal that she was here, and he was too. That he'd crossed paths with her again after six months. Six whole months of misery and desolation. Six whole months of craving for her, wanting her, but not having her. Six whole months of missing her endlessly. Six whole months of cursing himself incessantly for pushing her away that first time all those years ago; of wondering what it'd've been like if he hadn't, if they'd have been together all this while. Six whole months of hating himself for not being able to earn her trust the second time either.
These six months had been dreadful. Lonely. He'd never really followed what she'd said about the incomplete jigsaws in her letter. He thoroughly understood it now, though, after having faced it himself. He knew what it was like to feel a part of yourself go missing. To feel incomplete, but at the same time, not wanting anybody else.
Her comparison had been spot on. When she'd left, a piece of him had left with her. It was as if someone else was completing the jigsaw—the jigsaw that was him. Piece by piece, by trial and error. Savannah was the correct piece, fit in the wrong way and eventually separated because it didn't fit. No other piece fit there, either, because it was only Savannah that fit. Only her, no one else. And finally having her by him now was as if the person solving his puzzle had realized that she was the missing piece. The piece that completed the jigsaw, made it the beautiful artwork it was supposed to be.
"Hello." Her voice broke through his reveries.
He looked at her. Just stared. This was unbelievable. She, walking with him, around LA...all of it was nothing short of a dream sequence.
"Zac?" she prodded.
He closed his eyes and sighed. She'd said his name. This was all real. "Say that again."
"Say what again?"
"My name, say it again."
"Zac."
He breathed shakily. "Oh God."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I just—you said my name and I couldn't hold it in anymore. The past two-three hours seemed like a dream, a dream I so wanted to come true. I just went with it, not wanting to do something silly and end the beautiful reverie. But then you said Zac and it all just became so much more real."
So he'd noticed they'd been consciously avoiding calling each other by their names. It wasn't just her keeping tabs then.
"You are here, Savannah."
"Yeah. You're right. It feels real, and it feels liberating." She looked at him for a few moments, then smiled and tugged at his hand. "Come on. I still have so many places to show you."
She heard him laugh, and though she wasn't looking at him, she knew he was shaking his head. It made her smile bigger. Today was a happy day.
Time passed by really quick. Neither of them realized how. They'd been enjoying themselves so much. She'd shown him random places, and ideally, he'd've been bored out of his mind. With Savannah, however, even the most mundane of things felt fun and marvelous. He was enjoying himself in so many ways at one time.
They chatted about routine, casual stuff during lunch. She'd treated him to lunch at this small outlet she claimed she came to as a child. The owner was an old lady who had been delighted to see Savannah. It was clear from how she gushed about Savannah as a kid. Based on what Mrs. Albright said, Savannah had been exuberant as a child. Full of energy, a fireball.
"...One day this monster comes marching in and says, 'I want the best food you can make. I have the money, and I'm tired of eating beans and greens at home.'" Mrs. Albright laughed. "Such a bossy girl she was. Adorable too. I remember she never wore pink, unlike the other girls. She wasn't a tomboy, but how she despised the color. Unfortunately, at that time, my apron was pink. It pissed her off so much. She called me out for it, the way only a small girl could—all those dramatic hand movements, the use of superlatives, that high pitched yelling, and finally explaining the flaws of pink in a steady, soft voice slowly."
Mrs. Albright flicked Savannah's nose, making Savannah grin widely. Zac could see the moisture in her eyes.
"She hardly comes here these days. I've barely seen the girl who used to drop by at least twice a day, in the past two years. Even in high school, she'd come by, bring her entire tribe with her. Two guys and another girl. She was particularly fond of one of those two boys, though she used to say otherwise," Mrs. Albright recalled, laughing.
Something twisted in Zac's gut. Like always. Savannah and another guy in the same sentence wasn't really good for his mental health. Jealousy gnawed at him, strong as ever. He knew he wasn't even there in her life when she'd been in LA, so he had no right to be jealous. But still, he was.
Keeping his voice leveled, he said around a mouthful, "I'm enjoying this. Tell me more, Mrs. Albright. I gotta have ammo, right? I need all the incidents I can grab."
He made the mistake of looking over at Savannah who was already looking at him with an amused expression. Really? her eyes said. He just shrugged.
"He really was delectable, dare I say. I might've had him myself had Savannah not had the hots for him."
"I did not!"
The old lady waved her off. "You certainly did. Anybody could see how red you flushed whenever he was near you. Especially when he kissed your cheeks as a friend and all that. You used to turn cherry red. And don't you believe that I didn't see you both kissing outside my deli once in your senior year—"
Savannah gasped, then covered her face with her hands. "You did?"
"Oh yes, girlie, I most definitely did."
The guy had kissed Savannah? If it continued at this rate, he wouldn't make it long before combusting.
"Jesus Christ, Mrs. Albright. Why don't I know of this?"
"Oh, I didn't want you to be embarrassed by it, Savannah. You both looked cute, by the way. Were you both ever together?"
"No, not really. By the time either of us had the guts to tell each other—which we did—it was almost the end of senior year. So we decided, mutually, not to complicate things."
Zac watched Mrs. Albright lean in to whisper in Savannah's ear. "And, might I ask, what is your relation with the eye candy you brought with you?"
Since he wasn't meant to hear it, he pretended so. He found himself leaning in a bit absently, to hear Savannah's response. Had she changed her take on what their relationship should be, could be? the hopeful parts in him echoed.
Savannah gave her a rueful smile, then whispered so softly he almost didn't catch it. "Earlier I didn't want it to be anything. But I think now I do. You understand what I'm trying to say, old dame?"
He couldn't help the small, secretive smile that graced his lips. Was he reading too much into it, or...?
"Ah. I do, I do. And I also discern that your British English has improved."
"Perks of traveling the world, I guess. I can speak bits and pieces of Spanish and French too, you know? Phrases and words, the basic, necessary ones that help me communicate."
"I see. That's good."
They chatted for a while. Mrs. Albright was a jolly woman. She was content with the world in general. However, Zac noticed, she kept on touching upon how she barely got to see Savannah at all, and Zac couldn't help but wonder if this is what it would be like to have a life with her. Was this what she was trying to imply in her letter? About not being there for him, with him, enough? Was this also one of the reasons she'd pushed him away?
"Well, young lady, when can I expect to see you again?" Mrs. Albright asked as she saw them off.
"Oh, you'll see me ever so frequently now on. I have a nephew in LA, after all, gotta show up regularly enough that he remembers he has an aunt, don't I?"
"That's there. Okay then, see you soon."
"What are you doing there, old bedlam? Get here and give me a hug. Quick. I don't have all the time in the world," Savannah repeated the words Mrs. Albright always said to her when she'd been a kid.
"Oh, my pretty girl." Mrs. Albright hugged her dearly. "I am so proud of what you've made of yourself. And I can't tell you how glad I am that you remembered and came to see me."
"Oh, come on, now, Mrs. Albright. Don't get all sentimental on me. Please."
"Fine, missy, I won't."
"I'll see you soon. Take care of yourself."
"I will if you promise me you'll come again."
"That sounds...never mind. Let's keep it PG-13 for now," she murmured, then said aloud, "I will. So stay alive for me."
—x—
And! They meet again. What do you think? Where is this going?
Two more chapters to go... Of course, there is a high chance of bonus chapters being uploaded, but the updates are going to be extremely slowwww.
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Until next time...