Chapter 18

"Hi Tom, how are you?" Lori asked me. She looked like shit, relatively speaking, such that she was now merely very attractive instead of her usual appearance as an absolute goddess.

"I take it you’re not going to see Ray this evening?" I asked her. It was Saturday night and I had figured on keeping our recurring appointment. She was dressed in what appeared to be a set of gray sweats underneath a pink bathrobe, so hitting the town did not look like it fit into her plans.

"Sorry, it doesn’t look like I’m going to be able to go out. I seem to have come down with something," she told me through a tired smile.

"You don’t look so healthy."

"I don’t feel so healthy," she told me.

"Do you need anything?" I asked her. "Chicken soup? Hot tea? Orange juice? A witch doctor?"

"I could use some company, but I don’t want you to get sick."

"That’s okay, I can afford to take that risk."

"Well, come on in, then."

As I entered, I noticed a slight scent of cigarettes in the air. "Are you smoking?" I asked. I’d never seen her smoke anything up to this point.

"No, it’s just that I’m so used to the smell that I actually rather enjoy it. I guess that comes with living with a smoker," she said as she went into the kitchen.

"If you say so."

"Oh, I most definitely do. Have a seat, by the way. You might want to use the loveseat, I’ve been lying on the couch, so that might be infected."

"Thanks for the tip," I told her, sitting on the non-quarantined furniture.

"I’m sorry to spoil your evening like this," Lori apologized as she entered the room carrying a glass of orange juice.

"That’s okay, I’ve seen Ray’s band plenty of times before." And they still sucked.

"Thanks for staying with me; I really do like having you to talk to."

"No problem," I told her, relishing the compliment.

"I heard from Andy today," she told me as she sat down.

"Oh really? Is he still coming back in a month?" Andrew had already rescheduled his return twice, the first delay pushed his return back to early November, the second into December.

"No, unfortunately, a couple cello players for the Berlin Symphony Orchestra are ill and they needed an alternate. Andy was in town at the time and Hans finagled a fill-in spot for him on a couple of concerts."

"How’s that going to affect his tour?"

"They rescheduled their dates and now he’ll be coming back here around Christmas time."

"Does his tour always drag itself out like this?"

"No, actually," Lori told me, blowing her nose, "excuse me, sorry about that… actually, this is unusual. Andy is really doing well this time around. I’m happy for him. Then, about two months from now, I’ll finally have somebody to play the cello for me and stink up the place with cigarettes," she said jokingly. "So anyway, Tom, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, work, work and more work. That’s about it. What about yourself?"

"Work, being sick and not much else. Wedding plans are going slowly. Ray and I still haven’t set a date. I suppose sometime in the spring would be nice."

"I thought you wanted to get married as soon as possible."

"Yes, I know, but winter is so depressing and I don’t want to get married in a dreary time of year. A happier time of year would be much better."

"I guess I can see your point," I said, not sure that I did.

"Trust me, Tom, it’s going to be wonderful."

"I’m sure it will be."

"By the way, what’s your friend Dan up to?" Lori asked.

"Well, he’s still doing graphic design, but a local children’s author asked him if he would illustrate a book for her."

"That’s great!"

"Yeah, I’m very glad that happened for him, though he told me several times that I really shouldn’t make a big deal about it. It’s only one book and it’s a very local author."

"It’s a start, though."

"True, I suppose that hooking up with that author could always translate into something bigger down the road. Incidentally, he’s coming to town in a couple weeks; I’m sure he can tell you more about it when he gets here."

"I’ll have to ask him all about it," she told me just before blowing her nose once more. "So what else is going on with you, Tom?" she asked, "Your job is ending in six months or so, isn’t it?"

"That’s the case, yes."

"Any idea what you’re going to do after that?"

"Not a clue."

"Are you going to stay in New York?"

"I’m thinking about it, but I really haven’t decided what I want to do next. I like living here, but I’m also waiting to see what other opportunities are available."

"So what would it take to make sure you stay in New York?"

I thought to myself, "Aside from you?" as I answered, "I don’t know. I guess it would depend on what happens over the next few months. My contract is only half completed, after all."

"So there’s still plenty of time to entice you to stay?"

"I would love it if you did."

Lori picked up a pack of cigarettes sitting on the table. She pulled one out and lit it before placing it in the ashtray. "That’s better," she told me as she leaned back in her seat.

"You have some odd tastes, Lori."

"Is the smoke bothering you? I’m sorry I can put it out," she told me as she leaned forward.

"No, it’s quite alright," I lied, "it really isn’t bothering me."

"Let me know if it does, I know people generally don’t find the smell of cigarettes as pleasant as I find it."

I just shook my head, saying, "You certainly are one-of-a-kind, Lori. Nobody can accuse you of being otherwise."

She leaned back in her seat once again, curling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them while she grinned back at me mischievously. She shivered.

"Are you cold?" I asked her.

"Oh, I’ve kind of got the chills."

"Well, here, let me see if I can help," I told her as I moved over onto the sofa and wrapped my arms around her.

"Thanks," she told me as she settled into my side, "I needed that. I don’t want you to get sick, though."

"Like I said, I can afford to take that risk."

We both sat there for a while, neither of us moving except for Lori’s occasional grab for a tissue. I wasn’t sure what to do next, which was an obvious problem when you are comfortably nestled against a woman you have a great deal of interest in.

I thought about kissing her. I could not help but think about it. It seemed like the best time for it, she was right there, I was right there, but I could never really come up with the answer to the question, "Should I?" I knew the opportunity was as good as any I would ever have, but the fact was, she was engaged to be married. And I had more than a couple qualms about messing with the betrothed of another man, especially when the other man is built like a dump truck. She did say that she hoped I would stay here in New York, but I realized that was a ridiculous rationalization. However, I came to the conclusion that if it was ever going to happen, it was going to happen then, so I leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

Lori’s response was to take a deep breath and recuddle herself against me. She was dead asleep. Realizing this, I was relieved. It meant I did not have to deal with rejection, nor any possible repercussions for what I had just done. Thus, knowing there was nothing to do that required my being there, I slowly moved myself off the couch. Lori leaned down onto her side and curled herself up. I covered her with a blanket sitting on the edge of the sofa before I walked out the door.