hey how was thailand? bang any ladyboys?
The text from Riley, having arrived sometime during John's long jetlag-induced nap, was certainly a surprise, but not an unpleasant one.
Fantastic. I think I can now competently ask where the toilet is in Thai. Maybe if I ever go again I will learn how to order something at a restaurant
The reply came back quickly:
planning on going again already?
John put his phone down on the floor beside the couch and stretched.
No plans of any sort at the moment. Seeing where life takes me.
He swung his legs off the edge of the couch and took a look around the room.
Is it afternoon already?
he thought.
Too late for coffee, maybe, if I ever want to get back on American time.
His phone buzzed with a new message.
cool, then you are free for coffee?
Well, that answers that,
he decided. He texted back
You sure that's a good idea?
The reply again came quickly.
just coffee.
with a friend
This was followed quickly by a link to a nearby cafe's location and
meet you in an hour or so?
John sighed, unsure whether it was wise, but finding, to his surprise, that he was sure he could handle it, regardless of whether Riley's "just coffee" was genuine or not. He texted back
sure
and began getting ready. For what, exactly, he didn't know, but ready.
...
He found Riley, looking beautiful as ever in a tight fitting red top and equally tight jeans, sitting by herself with two cups of coffee in front of her at a table by the broad windows of the cafe waiting for him. She had waved when he came in the door, and he joined her. She stood as he approached and she greeted him with a hug that probably went on too long, though he didn't mind.
"I got you black coffee," she said as they sat down. "I seem to recall that's how you like it."
"Thanks," he said, "you recall correctly. Sorry if I kept you waiting."
"Oh, no," Riley waved off the apology. "I really just sat down."
They both just sat there for a few seconds, apparently neither sure what to say first, and then simultaneously began "So..." before stopping and smiling.
"You first," she said.
"Um, so, what's up? I was kind of surprised to hear from you. I mean, good surprised, but surprised. How did you even know I got back, or that I was gone, anyway?" As he spoke, he couldn't help noticing the way she turned the cup of coffee in her hands, slowly rotating it while watching him.
"Oh, uh, your girlfriend, I mean, your ex, I mean Carrie, anyway," Riley said. "She told me a little while ago about your trip. Sounded like she was expecting a souvenir, by the way." Her eyes, pretty as ever, moved as she spoke, first down to her hands and then back up to John before they moved back down again.
"Ah," he said, "that makes sense. Sorry I didn't tell you myself, I just kind of thought, you know, with how things ended... Anyway, yes, there's a souvenir for her."
"Yeah, no, it's fine. I mean, obviously..." She turned her attention to the street outside, or, rather, John imagined, something much further away.
"I have a souvenir for you too," he said as she trailed off.
"Really?" Riley seemed genuinely surprised, turning her face suddenly back to him.
"Yeah. I wasn't sure if I would see you, but 'hope springs eternal' and all that," John answered. He fished a t-shirt out of the bag he had over his shoulder. "Here you go," he said, passing it to her, "Hopefully it fits. I just guessed at the size."
It was black, with Thai writing on it. Riley held it up and inspected it. "Thank you. What does it say?"
"Oh, I have no idea, really. The guy who sold it to me said it was something about ladyboys. I thought you would appreciate it."
"I hope it's filthy," Riley smiled. "I'll just tell anyone who asks that it says 'I fucked a ladyboy in Thailand and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.'"
John laughed and took a drink of the coffee. He judged by the temperature that she had been waiting for him for slightly longer than she had indicated. For another minute they both sat in awkward silence.
"So, how's things, kiddo?" he finally decided on.
"Kiddo," Riley chuckled. "Things is good. I mean, work still sucks, but you could probably have guessed that. Late stage capitalism and all..."
She seemed to want to say something else, but either couldn't figure out what or was unsure if it was a good idea. John couldn't work out which from her expression alone. She focused on something outside and John watched her lips and tongue fidget.
"And how about," John decided as he was talking against being too direct, "...outside of work?"
"You mean how's my boyfriend?" Riley said, meeting his gaze.
John shrugged. "If suddenly receiving a t-shirt from a guy is too suspicious, you can throw it out, by the way. I'm not going to take it personally or anything," he said.
It's just junk, anyway,
he added mentally,
imbued meaning or no.
She reacted with an expression that he couldn't quite parse; he thought maybe disbelief or just confusion, but the way she followed it by chewing on her lip told him it was certainly tinged with something else.
"I'm sorry," John said, reflexively.
"For what?" she said.
"I don't know," he said. "It just seemed like the right thing to say."
She shook her head, looking up to the ceiling as if it had the words she was searching for scrawled on it.
"It doesn't matter," she said. "I mean, the shirt. I mean, not that the shirt doesn't matter. It's sweet. I mean he's not going to notice or care that I suddenly have a new shirt."
"Ah, well, that's...good?" John said. They sat in silence for long enough that they each took sips of their coffee. Evidently she still felt it was his turn in the conversation so he added. "How is that all going? Your boyfriend, I mean. He's good?"
"Yeah, yeah," she answered. "He's good. Look..." she trailed off.
"Was there something in particular you wanted to talk to me about?" John asked. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to hear from you, but, well..." he wasn't sure how to phrase all of the thoughts that he had spent the last week processing that wouldn't come off as insulting or desperate or just uncomfortable.
"I'm getting married," she said suddenly.
The spigot of thoughts that had been pouring out of his brain and backing up in his mouth suddenly got cut off and he held them there, bitter on his tongue for a few seconds.
How'd that little Buddhist koan you learned go? Something about just accepting things as they are? Something about keeping it casual?
he asked himself. He breathed in deep and let it out slowly, and in opening his mouth imagined that he could feel the thoughts just dissipate into the atmosphere. "Oh," he said finally.
"Yeah," she said. Her eyes were focused on her fingers, which she was moving around, pressing against each other with a seemingly random nervous energy that brought to John's mind the impression of a handful of earthworms, pulled from their cozy dirt and now writhing blindly.