Authors: Michael Malflic
Nadrea’s
soft white skin was still marked with lines, not from an erotic adventure the night before but from the creases in the sheets. The first signs of the light of day were dark, overcast and foreboding in nature, they like her mood were not light and clear,
the suns beauty disguised by things that obscured them, some of which were natural like the gray clouds overhead and others contrived, self produced obstructions like the building on the New York skyline.
Nadrea’s
life was not much different. She sipped her cocktail, sitting perfectly erect and proper, despite the fact that she was completely in private. It was a symbol of the pretense of who she was. Who she was always gave way to the reality of who she really wasn’t despite her actions, her intention and her rhetoric.
The mood in her own mind continued to sour even further as the plans for the day echoed through her head. It wasn’t the staff packing her things to ship back to her
house,
it wasn’t the crowds at the train station or the hustle to make the ride back to DC. It wasn’t the dark beginning of the day, or catching a cab in the rain. For once her concern was not about what to wear or even how most others would perceive her. In fact as she finished that first drink before 6:30am and began to pour another it was the thoughts of where she had come from, she left not innocent but as a child it was these thoughts that came back to her.
Vincent in the next room continued to sleep soundly, his slumber a simple and unencumbered sleep. It was deep and
childlike,
he had not a care in the world, not about money, or business, not about his life or his path, not about his feelings or relationships. Vincent rested on longer and better than most often, perhaps it was he was tired worn out although not visibly from the pace of his life. But in truth it was because he was comfortable, unencumbered. He only slept the type of sleep he was enjoying in two places in the world, by the ocean after a long listless day on the beach, any beach with a nearby bed would do this to him. Although his favorite memories were not of the exotic places, the south of France or the Greek Isles. It was not Hawaii or Bermuda or even the Caribbean. His fondest memories were of the Atlantic he had spent his life going up and down that particular body of water and what he loved the most were that days in the very common sand in the not at all tropical but warm clear sun. Not the high end resorts where every whim was catered to but the simplicity of friends and family in a large beach house, sharing the type of moments that creates memories of one’s life not because of the extravagance but because
of the people that time is spent with. The second place he enjoyed that type of slumber, New York on a Sunday morning, there was something magical about that for him.
Nadrea
began to pace, she stood motionless in the doorway gazing at Vincent. In a rare sense of genuine feeling and caring for another she wondered if she was doing the right thing, not for herself for once but for him. Her family was jaded and judgmental. Her father while never cruel was not exactly a warm and jolly fellow. Daddy’s humor while a bit off key is an attempt to be less rigid than he really was. Her mother doing the world’s good was never once satisfied with anything in her life, it had to always be better, more productive, a martyr of wealth and status wouldn’t hesitate to dissect everything around her for
its
conceived in perfection. Her work mattered and most everything else was an annoyance, her only child included. Soon she was back on her silent perch staring into the street imagining the every possible scenario that could occur over brunch, each more tragic than the last. A few hours later Vincent finally stirred and
Nadrea
was still sitting in silence listening to the thoughts inside her own head. Silence was something she rarely allowed to exist for the very reason that was happening at that moment, her own thoughts consumed her, fears continued mounting.
As Vincent approached she heard his footsteps
coming
her hair covering her face. “Good morning.”
She sat silently he looked over her shoulder placing his hands gently on her back. “I love this place, there’s always something to see.”
Nadrea
was listening, but looking for a way out of brunch. “Maybe we shouldn’t go?”
she
began.
“We can do whatever you want” Vincent answered softly, noticing the open liquor and empty glass next to her. He picked up her glass and walked to the bar. The refrigerator opened but she still hadn’t moved, Vincent filled the glass and took out a bottle of water. He returned to the table looking out on the city and sat on it next to
Nadrea
.
“This tastes like juice.” Her brow wrinkled and her face puckered.
“It is. So do you want to tell me what’s going on, it’s a bit early for a drink, even for
you.
And you aren’t moving. No obsessive preparations like usual.”
“I’m not sure we should have brunch with my parents?”
she
said.
“Nod” he sounded like her father “I’m perfectly fine with not going as long as you tell me why.” Vincent knew there was something more than could be seen on the surface. His usual playful manner was not showing. He wondered what could make a simple meal into something so dreadful for her.
“They’re not nice people” she began. “My father tries but is dry and well business like. My mother is a doctor and only her work matters. She criticizes everything. We don’t get along too well.” Tears began welling up in her eyes, still hiding her ashen face behind her dark hair.
“So why did you agree to go?”
“I don’t know.”
Nadrea
didn’t know
,
she had dreaded the brunch meeting since she agreed to it, the tears now gently rolling down her face their salty taste tracing the sides of her lips before soaking into her hair that was touching her chin. “I’m just going to cancel.”
“That’s fine or I could just wear something hideous.”
Nadrea
looked at Vincent like he had lost his mind. “What do you mean?”
“So what does your mother hate the most?” Vincent asked his tone sincere.
“Me or my friends or my life or anything else that gets in the way of her work.”
Vincent felt the sorrow and pain in her words, she really did believe what she had just said, that she was little more than an inconvenience in her parent’s life, she had always been it was her role.
Vincent took a deep breath “If you’re worried they won’t like me,
fuck’em
. If you think they’ll hurt my feelings, they can’t because I really don’t care what they think. A lot of people I know don’t like me so why would I care if people I don’t know don’t like me. Maybe I could go as a gay fashion designer, would that piss her off?”
“Everything pisses her off”
Nadrea
said the tears slowing.
“Perfect I’ll go as the most annoying thing I know how to be, myself. I won’t even have to act.”
Nadrea
smiled a little smile
“Is she a control freak?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Perfect let’s change the reservation and prepay the check. She’ll have lost complete control.” Vincent went from being concerned to
wicked
it was his plan to be the biggest dick he knew how if the situation called for it.
“Now go get ready, I want make sure we’re seated before they get there so we get to pick our seats.”
Nadrea
finally moved. “Can I have some Vodka for this?”
“No, now go get ready. And take your juice with you.”
As
Nadrea
walked into the bedroom heading for the shower she turned back to Vincent, “Are you sure you’re ok with this?”
Vincent laughed his first laugh of the day. “Do you really think your parents are going to be the first people to dislike
me.
You really do worry too much.”
Nadrea
still weighted down with her concerns added “You don’t know them.”
“Not yet, but looking forward to it. Where are we going by the way?”
“Smith &
Wolinsky’s
”
“Ok, go get ready” Vincent said with a smile.
“Stop being so bossy!
I don’t like it.”
Vincent laughed at her as he walked up and kissed her. “I’ve watched you for two days now, it takes you forever,
if
we’re going to be early you had really better get started.”
Nadrea
turned and wondered into the bathroom, the shower was cranked up to full force and searing hot.
Nadrea
adjusted the temperature and stood motionless under the relentless pounding of the water, her skin warmed with its touch, her legs were tired from Saturday’s shopping and her feet still had a deep distant ache in them, a slave to fashion style always took place over substance.
The restaurant buzzed in a reserved sort of way the energy of life and wealth and ego was so palpable that you could feel it in the air, it smelled like old money and pompous ass mixing with bacon and flowers.
Nadrea
and Vincent were early and she was still tense, she couldn’t help it as the horror of her relationship with her parents and the years of strain had taken its toll on her ability to see time with them as much just like time spent with other friends and loved ones as normal.
Nadrea
just couldn’t bring herself to accept that time spent with one’s parents is just something that occurs in every stage of life, nothing heinous or hateful, ill intentioned or contrived but simply as time together to enjoy another’s company.
As the waiter approached Vincent spoke up. “She’ll have mineral water and juice.” Vincent ordered before he could ask.
“I can order for myself”
Nadrea
chimed in, the waiter oblivious to the situation politely ask her. “Ok, what kind of juice would you like?”
The question was both standard and innocent.
“Orange,” she muttered in a disgruntled reply, time seemingly dragging on in a torturous monotony, she simply wished that they’d arrive so the entire thing could be substantially closer to ending.
Nadrea
was unaccustomed to being on time and the scheduled time to arrive had come and past, she sat in her chair sullen and withdrawn. Vincent simply studied those around him and their pretentious actions and self important words. After fifteen minutes Daddy came bounding across the room. “Nod” he called out. Vincent stood out of courtesy and was introduced. At first glance Daddy seemed harmless, gay maybe based on the physique and the hair
cut but
harmless. The concept of him being gay was quickly dispelled Vincent realizing that her father was only about as gay
a
he was.
Nadrea
no sooner finished hugging her dad when the inevitable question was
ask
. “Where’s mother?”
she
still held out hope that she wasn’t coming.
Daddy simply replied “Ronald is bringing her.”
Vincent just sat back and watched as the pair tried to converse.
“How was your weekend?” Daddy asked breaking the long silence.
“Nice, I went to an event on Friday with Vincent and spent all of yesterday with Stella.”
Daddy had fond memories of Stella, he like that despite everything else around her she had always been her own person, unencumbered and seemingly happy. Now came the socially odd time for him, should he ask for more, inquire about details, as Daddy tried to decide Vincent spoke up bridging the pause in the conversation.
“I loved her!” he said emphatically. “What a breath of fresh air, artists are often
either totally wondering outside the ball park way past left field or
the
are so pretentious and
stuck up they’re completely fucking unbearable.”
Daddy laughed and some
how both he and
Nadrea
were for the first time able to relax and just sit and talk, sure a lot of it was about Stella, Vincent occasionally interjecting or adding in stories about his friend Deb. The pleasantries continued until Mother entered in a controlled huff, following a staff member with a disgusted looked on her face. “
Nadrea
,
” she
said as she passed looking at Vincent “and you must be her friend.” Vincent instantly didn’t like her, her demeaning tone and arrogance. He considered just standing up and leaving but instead decided to answer “No Ma’am.” Knowing almost certainly that referring to her as ma’am would most likely instantly piss her off even more.
Nadrea
worried what was about to come out of his mouth. “I’m just some vagrant that she picked up so she wouldn’t be here sitting alone while she was waiting for you.” Mother who didn’t want to be there any more than
Nadrea
shot back, “I see and you’re too important to be kept waiting?” Mother was certain that this would put the arrogant prick in front of her back into his place, perhaps
Nadrea
had failed to tell him what she did. Her blood was beginning to boil. “I was with my patients, and what was your name again?”