The Key (3 page)

“I insist. I am so sorry.” His sincerity bleeding through his slurred speech. He began to move away, satisfied his apologies had been profuse enough to warrant his leaving.

“So, you just leave?” her thick accent melodic in the night air.

He stopped in his tracks and twisted around to face the old woman, “What?” he shook his head to clear it, feeling like he was swimming in tar.

“You must come and help me- I do not want your money.” She gestured to the scattered items, her brow taking a proud line. He stumbled back to where she stood holding out his wad of cash. He looked from her hand to her face then shook his head, “This is for your trouble.”

She forced the money back into his palm and said, “You help me then we are even.” As though the matter had been decided well before he tripped over her goods. Blinking at the small woman he could only do what she instructed- gathering her trinkets and laying them neatly in rows. She eyed him curiously from her supervisor position.

After she was satisfied, she pulled on the hem of his shirt, tugging the back. He turned to face her and she held up her index finger, “There is a saying… very common: You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.”

He nodded his head, peering down at her slight form with imbibed disinterested attention.

She jabbed her finger into his chest- hard and furious, “But… can you make a sow’s ear out of a silk purse?” she wagged her finger at him, “That is the question mi bonito.” Nodding her head as though she had just revealed her greatest secret, she held out her hand.

He raised his eyebrows in a question- looking from her hand to her face. She cleared her throat and shook her hand in the air- clearly signifying he should pay her for her amazing advice. Bewildered, he pulled out the wad of cash and placed it into her palm. She counted it unabashedly in front of him then smiled, tucking it into her pocket.

“Now- what do you want?”

“What do I want?”

She nodded again, gesturing to her blanket of goods, “What… do you want.”

His eyes skimmed over the odds and ends, his brow furrowed in a deep V. What he wanted was to go home and sleep for the rest of the day, not swap antidotes with pushy street vendors.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the glint of metal, clumsily he swatted down and picked up a brass key- long and smooth and old in appearance. Fixated, he straightened to his full height and glanced at the old woman. He held it up, indicating what he would take as his purchase.

She smiled, “You made a good buy.”

He squinted at her- fifty dollars for a brass key hardly seemed like a good buy, but he didn’t argue. Instead he put the key in his pocked- running his thumb along the cool metal, and nodded his head once before turning and walking away.

Before he was out of earshot she yelled at him, “Here is one for free: shit or get off the pot.”

He spun around and regarded her- she had a huge, clever smile on her face. He promptly turned away and continued walking, shaking his head at the crazy old lady and her brashness.

And yet, as he ambled down the dirt road to his house, the key in is pocket felt heavy- weighing him down. He thought about what the old woman said: taking something beautiful and making it ugly… a silk purse to a sow’s ear- not that he had anything against pig ears…

Is that what he had done? Had he taken his relationship with Anna and twisted it- cutting her off- making everything seem ugly in the process? He stumbled into the cool beach house and collapsed on the sofa, deciding that he had been thinking too hard. Sometimes a crazy old lady is just a crazy old lady.

And yet….

The Lock

He saw her.

Dressed in a pair of old jeans and a comfortable t-shirt, pointing at the walls animatedly- obviously issuing instruction to a series of painters. Drop cloths and plastic were everywhere; cans of paint scattered over the floor chaotically.

But, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her hair was longer and a mass of curls- the top half of which was gathered with a pencil on the top of her head. He remembered that she used to wear her hair in a similar fashion while in college.

He had been gone for six months but- after seeing her- it felt like twenty years. He drank her in hungrily like a man dying of thirst.

After his encounter with the street vendor on the island, his thoughts could focus on nothing else- the key he obtained seemed to have a life of its own- always finding its way into his pocket. He didn’t want to take their beautiful friendship and make it ugly with his selfishness. He needed to tell her the truth- needed to shit or get off the pot.

He smiled and shook his head- the unexpected phrase from the old lady held a lot of truth in its crass words. He needed to be honest- he needed her to know; otherwise he would always wonder: what if?

He didn’t know how long he had been staring through the window- appreciating the sight of her. However, when she abruptly turned her face in his direction and their eyes immediately locked, he felt all the wind leave his lungs. She stood perfectly still- like a statue. He couldn’t even make out her breathing; consequentially, he was holding his breath.

She was the first to break eye contact, looking away momentarily to answer a concern from one of the staff. When she looked up again it was almost with hesitation- as thought she didn’t really expect him to be there. This time, when their eyes caught- hers were guarded and distant and made his chest hurt with the familiar ache- it felt good.

He watched her as she excused herself from the employees, still watching him through the window. She dipped her head briefly to inspect herself then made a B-line for the exit. He
followed her movements with his eyes, the same graceful sway of her hips- whether she was wearing Prada or Old Navy- she was always stunning.

Her fingers confidently undid the lock and she pulled the door open, her expression still guarded. He stopped directly in front of her, not trying to hide his pleasure at seeing her; not trying to hide anything anymore.

“Hi.” She said, her brow drawing together as though by speaking she expected him to vanish before her eyes.

“Anna-” was all he got out before she punched him in the shoulder, her eyes turning dark and angry. “Anna! Stop hitting me.”

“Why are you here?” she retreated a step, satisfied his presence was bona fide, her voice monotone and severe.

He tipped his head to the side, watching the proud lift of her chin, the set of her jaw. He took a step closer- some selfish need in him wanted to smell her perfume; it had been so long. “Anna- I am sorry-”

“Jake…” interrupting, she breathed out slowly- apparently trying to get a grip on her anger, shaking her head, “First, you act like I have the plague, you won’t return my phone calls, you disappear, and now you suddenly reappear” throwing her hands in the air, “and tell me you’re sorry and expect everything to be ok?” Placing her hands on her hips, she jutted out her chin accusingly, here eyes flashing with resentment.

Sighing, he rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger, “Anna… I-”

“You’re forgiven.”

She jumped forward and, on her tip toes, encompassed him in her small arms, burying her face in his neck and holding him tightly. Stunned, he paused for a moment before wrapping his arms around her and lowering his head- breathing her in. His heart pounded in his chest and he let out a relieved sigh.

“Anna?” A male voice sounded behind Jake. Anna lifted her head from Jake’s chest and rocked to the side to look around her friend. Jake turned his face and scowled when he saw a dark haired man dressed in an expensive suit watching them with anxious interest.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, her eyebrows jolting up. She withdrew her arms from Jake and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the waiting man. Her smile was large and immediate, “Jake-” she paused, looking from Jake’s somber expression to the visage of Mr. Expensive-suit, “This is Ric. Ric-” she turned back to Jake, “this is Jake.”

Ric raised his eyebrows- obviously familiar with the name- and stuck out his hand, “Oh, Jake- I’ve heard a lot about you.” Anna beamed at Jake, her grin happy and carefree.

Jake looked at the hand then reluctantly took it in his own for a short grasp-of-war with the well-dressed Ric; “Funny, I’ve never heard of you.”

Anna laughed and hit him on the shoulder, “Jake- you’ve been gone for six months.” she sighed, shaking her head. She moved from Jake’s side and kissed Ric on the cheek then wiped the lips stick away with her thumb.

Jake’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits at the exchange and his sensibilities were gripped by jealousy… very intense jealousy. Jake cleared his throat and looked away from the couple, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Anna spun to face him, her smile bright and sincere, “Jake- you are never going to believe this: Ric found the key for the chest.”

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but no words came- the key… Immediately, his fingers connected with the brass key and a wave of regret crashed over him.

He was too late.

~*~

Jake was lamenting his decision to have dinner with Ric and Anna almost from the start of the evening. He squirmed in his chair every time Ric touched her or gazed at her with that sickeningly sweet smile of his. He figured this must be his penitence for waiting so long… he lost her, lost any chance.

Jake was searching for an excuse to leave after the first fifteen minutes back at her apartment- she’d disappeared into the kitchen to get herself chocolate milk, leaving Jake and Ric alone in the great room. It would be easier leaving without having to say good bye to them both- seeing them stand as a couple by the door as he departed. He felt like he was going to be sick.

And to make matters worse, Ric the prick was talking about asking her to marry him- about how they had talked about marriage and both agreed it was a good idea and didn’t he think Anna would be well suited to a comfortable lifestyle. Jake fisted his hands and sat on them, trying to keep his temper under control. This guy was a piece of work.

But, just as he was about to make his excuses, Ric smiled smugly- his tongue loosened from too much alcohol- and offered, “You want to hear something hilarious?”

Jake scowled at him and looked toward the kitchen, hoping he would still have enough time to make his exit but wanting to catch a glimpse of her before he left.

“The funny thing is- I just had the key made.” Ric laughed loudly at his joke, his eyes tearing up with humor.

Jake’s mouth dropped open in shock as his gaze shifted from the kitchen to the expensive suit in front of him, “You- you what?”

Ric shook his head and answered though his merriment, “Oh yes.”

Pausing to wipe his eyes, he looked towards the kitchen to make sure Anna was still occupied. Leaning forward he motioned for Jake to do the same.

“I know a very talented locksmith who was able to figure it out- he just made a skeleton key- it appears to be antique so she’ll never know the difference.” Looking smug and self-satisfied, Ric leaned back into the couch- picking up his whiskey sour on the way.

Jake could only stare at him; his mind spinning. This guy was an asshole. Jake’s hand immediately went to the key in his own pocket and his eyes sought out the chest situated at the end of the wall. He stood up abruptly and crossed to the chest; kneeling in front of it, he took out his key and studied it.

Ric turned around in the couch to watch Jake, “What’s that you have there?”

Jake- ignoring the asshole- put the key into the lock and held his breath. What if it doesn’t fit? …..what if it does? He swallowed hard and glared at the lock- wanting to know but somehow too scared to try.

Anna appeared at the entrance to her kitchen, gulping a glass of chocolate milk. Lowering it from her face she smacked her lips together and sighed. Jake, panicking, shoved the key back into his pocket and stood up abruptly. His hands were shaking.

Her brow scrunched and her face fell as she watched him close up- his features and eyes hardening as he gazed at her.

Squinting her eyes she set the glass down on her kitchen table, “No…” she shook her head, “no, no, no, no, no.”

He didn’t look away. He just stared at her impassively. Ric, watching the exchange with little interest, focused his attention back to his drink. Anna crossed to Ric in three quick steps, taking the whiskey sour out of his hand and shoving him toward the door, “Um- I’ll call you later- ok? Bye.”

Ric barely had time enough to stutter out a, “But… what?” before the door was closed in his face.

She spun around and charged at Jake- his face still clothed in a mask of indifference, “No you don’t! Not again!” she shook her head furiously at him demanding that he not close off.

He fingered the key in his pocket and walked around her to the coat closet. She followed him with her eyes, hurt and anxiety pl
aying clearly over her features.

“But… why? What did I do?” she rushed after him, holding her hands out as though she surrendered. He avoided her glare and pulled on his leather jacket, trying to even his labored breathing. He opened her door and disappeared down the stairs.