Forced to leave the bar -- and its mirrors -- I trailed behind Mr. Wilkes to the stage. It was a small area, raised just slightly above the dance floor. Mr. Wilkes was proud of it, having built it himself. He stood in the middle of the empty stage and pointed out where each musician would play. The house band performed all sorts of jazz, as well as old standards. I would follow his lead when it came to song selection. I was never a big fan of music.
Mr. Wilkes put in another CD. Are the stars out tonight? I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright. Cuz I only have eyes for you… I actually recognized that song from high school. My synchronized swim team did a routine to it. We all dove off sideways, one at a time, just like in the movies. By the time the song’s chorus came, we were under water and our legs were in the air. It was very impressive. We made it to the State Championships that year.
I found myself singing along, quietly, as I followed Mr. Wilkes around the club. Apparently I knew the words. Mr. Wilkes turned around at one point and smiled. He thought I was appreciating the music, I guess. I really don’t know what I was doing. But from the minute I stepped inside that club, I felt I was in a different place; I mean a far more different place than someone should be able to get to just by driving half an hour.
How many will you be do you think? He asked. The club has a capacity of 315.
Your place is perfect, I said. It was the first direct thing I had said to the man since we made our introductions. Of course I hadn’t weighed all that many variables in handing down my decision; I hadn’t asked the price, or discussed possible scheduling conflicts either. I just said it would be perfect.
Wonderful, he said, and extended his hand again. I took it quickly.
Yes, I said again. It was wonderful. A wonderful place. I finally returned to full sentences and said, This will be a truly unique site in which to hold our event. The women back in Pleasant Lake will be thrilled. I continued talking, still holding his hand. We can really make something special happen here. It will entail a lot of hard work and probably some added expense, too. The place could use a little sprucing up before the event, of course.
I saw something suddenly pass over Mr. Wilkes’ face. I couldn’t quite tell what it was, but something had affected him.
You know what I mean, Mr. Wilkes, I said. I am talking about little things: upgrading the linens maybe, just lightening things up a bit. It is just that the people we have coming expect a certain, well, look.
I understand, he said.
Wonderful, I said. Although it was clearly not wonderful anymore. I had made a mistake. Mr. Wilkes’ posture softened and his eyes lost the sparkle they had when we first shook hands.
And then I was annoyed. I simply made a business suggestion. I had no time to hold this man’s hand. The strange fog had lifted from my brain and I was relieved. It was probably just a combination of the unseasonable heat and too much coffee. Mr. Wilkes was just another man acting like a boy.
He walked me to my car in silence. Outside, he held his hand up to his forehead, shading his eyes from the bright sun. My baby looked lonely parked in the empty lot. Lonely and vulnerable.
Nice car, he remarked. I heard an edge to his voice, although I might have been reading into things. The car was special to me. I earned it, to be sure. But my ex-husband hadn’t seen it that way and only gave it up when his lawyer made him. I threatened to go after money and other things I didn’t even want, just to get that car. No one I knew ever had a car like that. People in my town drove Range Rovers and Volvos and BMW’s. But the little red convertible brought me joy; better than sex because it didn’t require the complications of another human being. When I was in that car I had a feeling that at any given moment something great could happen to me.
Mr. Wilkes opened the car door and I climbed in. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had held a car door open for me. I settled into my seat, buckled up and started the engine. Then I looked at him. His face was surrounded by a circle of bright sunlight.
Good bye, he said and gently closed the door.
I imagined him leaning over and kissing me. The picture flew in front of my eyes before I could stop it. I was embarrassed.
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