Authors: J.J. Murray
Tony opened a notepad to a blank page, writing as he chanted: “Second chances, sunlight dances, second chances, what romance is.”
“Thank Saint Francis,” Trina said.
Tony wrote it down. “Yes.” He looked at her brown hand on his pants. “I like the way that looks.”
“My hand?”
“Yes,” Tony said. “I like your hand.” He put his notepad away. “I do not want to go back to the shoe store now. I will walk with you.”
Trina squeezed his thigh and stood. “I’d like that.” She picked up her old shoes. “I won’t need these anymore.” She walked to a trash can and dropped them in, Tony two steps behind her. “I can’t believe you bought me shoes.”
Tony moved beside her. “I am glad you like them.”
“You know,” Trina said, “there are plenty of nurses in the hospital with tired feet who would love to have shoes like these.”
“I will give them all shoes,” Tony said.
“You’d be a
real
saint if you did that,” Trina said. “But there are hundreds of nurses at Saint Francis.”
Tony handed the bag to Trina. “It is a start.”
“You want me to give these away?” Trina asked.
“Yes,” Tony said.
They left the park and turned onto California Street, a cable car clanging as it click-clacked past.
“I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone who wants them,” Trina said. “I have a friend named Naini who will love these.”
As they turned up Hyde Street toward the hospital, Tony walked a few steps in front of Trina and stopped. “I want to see you again, Trina.”
I wish he would look at me.
“I want to see you again, too, Tony.”
And I do. He has made my day!
“I want to take you out to dinner at Cielo Azul tonight,” Tony said.
He wants to make my night, too! Cielo Azul gets incredible reviews. No beef stew tonight!
“I’d like that.”
“My barber Carlos said to go there,” Tony said. “Carmine said to go to Bar Tartine or Aziza. Carlos said Cielo Azul was the best restaurant in San Francisco bar none.”
“Carlos has good taste,” Trina said. “I hear it is an excellent restaurant.”
“Carlos and Carmine told me where to buy these clothes,” Tony said. “I had never bought clothes before. William helped me at Banana Republic.”
“William has good taste, too.” She reached for his elbow but let her hand drop.
He has issues with contact. I won’t push it. I don’t want to leave this weirdly fascinating man, but ES and ES2 are probably searching for me.
“You have a circle on your finger where a ring used to be,” Tony said.
Trina nodded. “I want it to fade away.”
Tony remembered what Angelo said. “Your ex-husband is an asshole.”
Trina laughed loudly.
Tony remembered what Aika said. “What a turd.”
Trina grabbed Tony’s arm. “He is!”
Tony stared at Trina’s hand on his forearm. “I could write a song called ‘He Is an Asshole,’ but they would not play it on the radio.”
“These days, they just might.” She tugged his arm gently, and they continued to walk. “They’d bleep out the bad words, of course.”
“Not many words rhyme with ‘asshole,’” Tony said. “‘Castle’ and ‘hassle’ do. I live in the Castle in Cobble Hill.”
I wish I knew more about this man! I have to find that biography.
“It’s not a real castle, is it?”
“No,” Tony said. “It is not made of stone. It does not have a moat. It is made of many bricks.”
“And you’re the knight who lives there,” Trina said.
“I am not a knight,” Tony said.
Trina turned to face him at the main entrance, letting her hand slide down his arm. “You are a knight to me.” She sighed. “Well, we’re here.”
“We are always here,” Tony said.
Trina smiled.
So simple and yet so profound.
“You’re right. We are always here.”
Now what do I do?
“Do you think you could ever like me, Trina?” Tony asked.
“I already do, Tony,” Trina said. “You have a very kind soul.”
“Thank you,” Tony said. “I will take you to Cielo Azul for dinner tonight.”
“I look forward to it,” Trina said.
“But I am nervous,” Tony said. “I have never been on a date.”
Will we be going on a date? It feels like one. I’m going to dinner with a good man.
“I haven’t been on a real date in a long time.”
“But you were married,” Tony said.
“That doesn’t mean I went on dates,” Trina said. “Maybe one or two real dates fourteen years ago
before
I got married, but once I got married . . . nothing.”
“I am still nervous,” Tony said.
“Just be yourself,” Trina said.
“You see how I am,” Tony said.
“And that’s all you have to be.” She touched his hand.
Tony nodded. “That will be another song. ‘You see how I am, and that’s all I have to be.’ Thank you.”
And now I’m supplying him with actual lyrics?
“So, where should I meet you for our date?”
“I will be out here waiting for you.” He walked quickly across Bush Street to the bus bench and sat.
Trina waited for traffic to thin before crossing Bush Street. “Tony, I’ll be at work for the next four hours,” Trina said.
The ER and Naini will have to survive without me tonight because I have a date.
“It will give me time to write,” Tony said. “I have a lot to write about.”
“You’ll have to make a reservation at Cielo Azul,” Trina said. “And since Cielo Azul is a fancy place, I will have to go home to change.”
“I do not want you to change,” Tony said. “I like you the way you are.”
He’s not being funny. He accepts me for me.
“I want to go home to change my
clothes.
I doubt Cielo Azul will let someone wearing scrubs dine there.”
“They should let anyone in,” Tony said.
“It’s a very fancy place,” Trina said. “And I want to look good for you.”
“You look good,” Tony said. “You are good. Do I look okay?”
“Hey, you’re Tony Santangelo from Brooklyn,” Trina said. “You can wear anything you want. But first we’ll need a reservation, and I hear reservations are hard to get there, so . . .”
Take the hint.
“I will call Cielo Azul and make a reservation for eight o’clock,” Tony said. He pulled out his phone and pressed the Google app.
“Hey, that’s a smartphone,” Trina said. She sat beside him, setting the bag beside her.
“Phones are not smart,” Tony said.
“And neither are some people who use them.” She stared at the screen. “Wow, you’ve already found Cielo Azul’s Web site. See the number?”
“Yes.” Tony pressed on the phone number and waited a few seconds. “Hi, my name is Tony Santangelo. I need a reservation for dinner at eight o’clock tonight.”
Trina pressed the speaker button. “I hope you don’t mind if I listen in.”
“No.”
“We have no openings for dinner this evening, sir,” a man said. “We won’t have any openings—”
“We will only need two chairs and a small table,” Tony interrupted. “Trina is slender.”
Well, at least he noticed my body. It’s nice to be slender.
“Sir, this is Cielo Azul
,
” the man said. “We are booked through the end of
next
month, sir. If you would like to dine with us—”
“I have a date with Trina,” Tony said. “She is very pretty. I promised her I would take her to dinner at Cielo Azul
.
”
“You should not make promises you can’t keep, sir,” the man said.
Pompous ass!
“What if I told you he was Art E., the famous songwriter?” Trina asked.
“You’re Art E.,” the man said.
“Go ahead,” Trina whispered.
“I am Art E.,” Tony said.
“I don’t believe either of you,” the man said.
“Did you see the story about Art E. in the entertainment section of the newspaper this morning?” Trina asked.
“No,” the man said.
“I was in the newspaper,” Tony said.
“Yes,” Trina said. “About you tipping Carlos a thousand dollars. I am sitting next to the subject of that story in front of Saint Francis Memorial.”
“I don’t believe you for a moment,” the man said.
“Okay, it’s your loss,” Trina said. “Let’s try Bar Tartine or Aziza.”
“This is a joke, right?” the man said.
“I did not tell a joke,” Tony said.
“Wait a minute,” the man said. “Am I on the radio?”
“I do not know,” Tony said.
“This is some prank call, right?” the man said.
“This is a phone call,” Tony said.
“You can’t fool me, whoever you are,” the man said. “Please don’t call again.”
Click.
“He hung up,” Tony said, putting his phone into his pocket. “I did not make a reservation for us.”
“We can go somewhere else,” Trina said. “It doesn’t have to be fancy.”
“I want to take you to the best restaurant in San Francisco,” Tony said.
“You don’t have to, Tony,” Trina said. “You could take me to a street vendor, and I’d be content. Tell you what. There’s a little Irish pub near where I live called Johnny Foley’s. We can go there. They have two pianos in the Cellar.”
“I played my piano in the cellar in Cobble Hill,” Tony said. “But they will not be my piano.”
“Of course not,” Trina said. “You would have had to bring your piano on the airplane.”
“It would not fit,” Tony said.
“And if we go to Johnny Foley’s, maybe you could play a song for me.”
Maybe my song, the one he wrote for me today.
“I would like to play a song for you,” Tony said.
“I look forward to it.” She stood, moved in front of him, and knelt, squeezing both of his hands. “Are you sure you want to wait four hours for me? It might rain.”
“There is a twenty-percent chance of rain today with winds from the southwest at seven to ten miles per hour,” Tony said. “I watch the Weather Channel.”
“It’s required viewing around here,” Trina said. “Did you have lunch?”
“Oh,” Tony said. “You did not eat your lunch at the park.”
“It’s okay,” Trina said. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” Tony said. “But I can wait.”
“Are you sure?” Trina asked. “There are some decent places to eat around here.”
“I ate at the BeanStalk Café yesterday,” Tony said. “Hyun Ae made me a messy ham and cheese sandwich. Her name means ‘wise and loving.’”
“You could go there now,” Trina said.
“I will wait for you here,” Tony said. “I do not want to miss you again.”
He’s worried I won’t come back.
She intertwined her fingers with his. “I
will
come back, Tony. I’ll be out as soon as I can.”
Tony looked down at his lap. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Trina asked.
“For holding my hands,” Tony said.
Has anyone
ever
held this man’s big, strong hands? I may be the first.
“I’m kind of a touchy-feely, hands-on person.”
“Touchy-feely,” Tony said.
“I’m a nurse,” Trina said. “I have to touch my patients to help them. I hope you don’t mind if I touch you.”
“I do not mind,” Tony said. “Your hands are warm and strong and dark brown. I like your color very much. It is like house blend at Angela’s Sweet Treats and Coffee in Williamsburg. It is like Hires Root Beer. It is the color of your eyes.”
He’s warming my hands
and
my heart.
“I’ll see you in a few hours.” She released his hands and stood.
“Okay.”
Trina picked up the bag. “I’ll be back,” she said in her best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice.
“You are not the Terminator,” Tony said. “You are too nice.”
Trina laughed. “See you soon, Tony.”
“Bye.”
Tony flipped to a new page and wrote: “I am happy. This is good. This is how two people should . . . be.”
The syllables are wrong, but the words are right. I am happy, this is good, this is how two people should . . . lots of drums . . . be. Naomi will hold this note a long time. Yes. This is good.
Tony looked at the people around him waiting for the bus.
Yes, this is very good.
Trina will be back.
He looked at his hands.
She held my hands.
My hands miss her hands very much.
22
T
rina sneaked through the halls and took stairways instead of elevators to avoid ES and ES2 and found Naini on the seventh floor helping a double amputee wearing prostheses navigate a set of wooden stairs.
“You are doing fine, Mr. Lewis,” Naini said.
The man’s T-shirt was drenched in sweat. “Has it been ten minutes yet?”
“No,” Naini said.
“I’m done,” Mr. Lewis huffed. “I’m toast. I have to rest.”
Naini helped him to a chair, handing him a towel and a bottle of water. “We’ll try again in a few minutes.”
“In a few minutes?” Mr. Lewis wheezed. “You’re
killing
me. Marty never worked me this hard.”
“It could be why you are still here, Mr. Lewis,” Naini said. She smiled at Trina. “You have escaped.” She saw the shoe bag. “And you are carrying a DSW bag.”
“You still have that book you wanted me to read, the one about Art E.?” Trina asked.
“I loaned it to Tina,” Naini said. “What is in the bag, Trina?”
Lovely. Tina, who has been hitting on me mercilessly since she heard I was getting divorced.
“Why’d you loan Tina that book?”
“She is not a bad person when she is not trying to have sex with you,” Naini said.
“She’s been hitting on you, too?” Trina asked.
“I am a sexy Bengali woman,” Naini said. “What man or woman could resist me?”
“You haven’t . . .”
Naini laughed. “No, I have not.” She raised her eyebrows. “Not with someone as ordinary as Tina. Now you, on the other hand . . . will now tell me what is in the bag.”
Trina opened the bag. “Are either of these your size?”
Naini looked into the bag. “I can squeeze into these and wear two pairs of socks with these.”
“Take them both,” Trina said.
“There was a three for the price of one sale?” Naini said.