My Friend Leonard (26 page)

 

A
girl I know from school calls me asks me if I want to have dinner I say yeah, sure, I'll have dinner. Her name is Conner she's six foot two she likes a nice, strong cocktail and she likes to laugh. I ask her where we're going she tells me it's a bar that serves decent food in an outdoor courtyard. I ask her if anyone is coming with us she asks me if I remember her friend Allison. I ask if it's Allison skinny Allison and she laughs and says yes, that's her and I say yeah, I remember Allison. I ask her what time she says eight.

I work all day take a shower get dressed. I think about Skinny Allison on and off. She was tall, as tall as I am. She had long dark blond hair, olive skin. The first time I saw her she was eighteen, but looked fourteen, and in the two years we were at school together, she never aged. She was thin, long thin, delicate thin, fragile thin, thin like a runway model, thin the type that food wouldn't affect, thin that was somehow natural for her, as if her body would gain weight as she got older. I saw her occasionally she was usually with Conner we never spoke. I never tried to speak to her because I knew she wanted nothing to do with me. She was from a nice, traditional Southern family, she did well in school. I imagined she would find a handsome, successful, stable man and live in a big house and have a beautiful family.

Cassius and Bella are sitting on the couch. I stop say goodbye to them they wag their tails and look up at me. If they could talk they'd say go on and leave, Daddy, we're going to have fun tonight without you, maybe we'll eat a pillow or chew our bones or try to catch squirrels or watch TV, go on, Daddy, leave. I give them hugs walk out to my truck drive down the hill to the bar.

I walk into the bar look around. I see Conner sitting at a table. I walk
toward the table Allison is sitting next to Conner they stand as I approach them. I hesitate as I walk, blink a couple of times, try to keep my jaw from dropping, my knees from buckling, my eyes from popping out. Allison is not skinny Allison anymore. She's still thin but her body has filled out, there are curves beautiful curves. Her hair is longer, more blond. She's wearing light blue leather pants a white t-shirt. She's no longer a girl she's become a woman, a gorgeous, voluptuous woman. Men all over the bar are staring at her. I'm staring at her. I stop at the table speak.

Hi.

Conner speaks.

Hi. You remember Allison?

I look at Allison.

Hi.

She speaks.

Hi.

Long time.

Yeah.

How you been?

Great. You?

I laugh.

Been a long couple of years.

She nods.

So I've heard.

We sit, they're both drinking white wine, I order a nice cold cola. I talk to Allison ask her about her life. She's been living in Vail for the last two years, teaching skiing and working in an art gallery. She loves Vail, but wants to move, feels like two years in a ski town is long enough, that it's time to become an adult. I ask her where she wants to go, she says she isn't sure, maybe San Francisco maybe Santa Fe maybe Washington DC. I ask her what she wants to do, she says she needs to figure it out, maybe teach, maybe try to be a painter, maybe go back to school for landscape architecture. She asks me about my life I say it's good, never been better. She asks if it's true I got locked-up I tell her yes. She asks what I'm doing in Los Angeles I tell her, she asks if I like Los Angeles I say more and more
every day. I ask her why it's not on her list of potential residences, she says she just can't imagine living here.

We order dinner they get salads I get a big fat fucking cheeseburger. We keep talking I ask about painting why she does it, she says she does it because when she is actually painting she forgets about the rest of the world, forgets about problems and insecurities, about failures and an uncertain future, about everything she just loses herself and paints. I ask who she paints like, she says she tries to paint like herself. I ask her who she likes, she says Matisse and van Gogh. I ask her why she says because Matisse paints beautifully and van Gogh paints painfully.

When the food comes, I can't eat. Allison intimidates me, makes me nervous, takes away my appetite. I take a few bites of the burger, try to look away from her, try to focus on Conner, try to seem cool and secure and distant even though I don't feel cool or secure, even though I don't want to be distant. What I want is to be next to her, to hold her, to be inside of her, to devour her, to disappear within her, to become part of her somehow, to become part of her. Part of what I feel is purely physical, a desire an urge a desperate clawing need, part of what I feel is something else, something that makes me smile, feel empty and full, makes my heart hurt. We finish dinner. I pay the bill they both thank me, we stand walk out. We wait for our cars at the valet, Conner asks me what I'm doing for the rest of the night, I tell her I'm going home getting in bed reading a book. Allison asks me what I'm reading I tell her Paul Bowles she asks me which book I tell her
The Sheltering Sky.
She smiles says she loves Paul Bowles, loves that book. I tell her I'll give her my report when I'm done she smiles says I'll look forward to it.

Our cars arrive. I ask them what they're doing tomorrow, Conner says she's not sure. I tell her to call me, that I might take my dogs for a walk in the Hills, that they can come if they want, she says cool. We get in our cars we leave.

I drive home and every second of the drive is spent thinking about Allison about how she looked in the first instant I saw her, about how she laughed she has a quiet shy laugh, about her smile she smiles like she's hiding something, about her leather pants her curves about painting I want to watch her paint about her reading I want to watch her read about the
skinny girl that isn't skinny anymore, about what she would look like next to me with me beneath me on top of me about how she scares me she fucking terrifies me.

I get home the dogs are already asleep on top of my bed. I get into bed I stare at the ceiling I think about Allison. I close my eyes I think about Allison. I fall asleep thinking about Allison.

 

I
wake up thinking about her. I try to work I can't work. I walk the dogs I want to go home I'm worried Conner might call I don't want to miss it. I brew some coffee my hand quivers as I drink it. I try to read, the words make no sense. I smoke cigarettes and stare at the wall and think about her. I hope Conner calls I want to see Allison again.

Conner calls we agree to go for a hike in the Hills. I ask the dogs if they want to go out, they jump up and down wag their tails run in circles. I ask them if they want to meet a girl Daddy likes they don't care. I ask them if they want to go bye-bye in the car they start barking.

We meet go for our hike. I let the dogs off their leashes they run away. It's hot I take off my shirt. Allison asks about my tattoos. I tell her they're like scars they remind me of things I've done, of how I want to live and how I don't want to live. Allison says I have a lot of scars. She smiles and she reaches out and runs her finger along the top of my left arm, along a faded black outline, she doesn't speak just runs her finger along my arm, along my arm, along my arm.

We agree to meet for dinner. They're going to come to my house I'll drive us all to a nearby restaurant. They arrive we go to a local Italian place we eat, Conner and Allison drink wine I drink cola. We stay for three or four hours. I don't want to leave Allison I want to sit with her for the rest of the night, tomorrow, all of next week, for the next month, year. The bill comes I pay we go back to my house I have a few bottles of wine in the house for people who want to drink. Conner and Allison open one of them. We sit in the backyard it's a beautiful California night, warm still quiet clear. They drink, we smoke, talk about friends from school where they are what they're doing how they're doing, some are doing well some are disasters some have faded away. I ask Allison why we were never friends at school she laughs and says because you were psychotic and I
was scared of you. I ask her if she's still scared of me, she says you're like your dogs, you appear kind and sweet and gentle, but I don't think I'd like to make you angry. I ask her if that means she's still scared of me she says she hasn't decided yet. I tell her to let me know if there's anything I can do to ease her fears, she smiles says okay.

It gets late two or three. Conner wants to go home. She's drunk I tell her she shouldn't drive they should stay here they can have my room I'll sleep on the couch. Conner wants to leave she walks out Allison follows her. I hear them arguing. I hear car doors open I hear them close. I hear Conner's car start, pull away. I hear a knock I walk to the door open it.

Allison is standing in front of me she speaks.

There's something you can do.

What do you mean?

To help ease my fear of you.

What's that?

She smiles.

Invite me in, I'll show you.

 

W
e have breakfast, lunch, dinner she stays the night again, we spend all of the next day together she stays the night again. She changes her flight so she can stay longer she picks up her bags from Conner we spend three more days together. We take the dogs for walks through the hills. We go to a gourmet grocery store Allison cooks a fancy dinner. We go to the movies sit in the back row hold hands share popcorn whisper to each other. We go see a band sit in the back row hold hands whisper to each other. We lie in bed for hours talking kissing exploring each other we lie in bed and stare at each other, her eyes are the same pale green as mine we lie in bed and we look into each other.

I convince her to stay for three more days. We drive up the coast. We get a room in a beachfront hotel we have plans to walk on the sand, swim in the ocean, sit in the sun, eat every meal outside. We never leave the room. We spend three days kissing touching exploring discovering we spend three days talking whispering laughing. We spend three days falling in love and I fall truly, deeply and absolutely in love with her. I fall in love with everything about her. I love her mind body smile, I love her walk long and graceful her voice soft and reserved. I love how she smokes, eats, I love her accent certain words have a faint Southern twang. I love the books she reads Paul Bowles and Jack Kerouac, the painters she admires Matisse, van Gogh and Michelangelo. I love that she went abroad alone lived in Florence and went to school. I love that she loves my dogs, that she's not scared of me anymore, that she makes fun of me and my past, says I'm nothing like what she expected, that I'm soft and sweet that I'm nothing like the monster she heard about. I love that I have never felt anything similar to what I feel when I'm inside of her, it's calm strength peace fulfillment fearlessness abandon satisfaction it's something I never knew with Lilly have never known with anyone. I love when I am near her I have to
touch her, have to kiss her, have to have my arms around her, have her close to me next to me touching me. I love that when I am with her everything else disappears, I don't think care wonder or worry about anything but her.

We go back to Los Angeles. Allison says she needs to go home. I ask her to stay tell her I want her to stay please Allison stay with me. She has to go home. She doesn't know when she'll be back.

I drive her to the airport.

I walk her to the gate.

I kiss her goodbye.

I'm in love with her.

Please, Allison.

Stay.

 

T
he phone rings I pick it up.

Hello.

My son, MY SON,
MY SON!

What's up, Leonard?

Where the fuck have you been?

Around.

Around my ass. I've left about ten messages.

I haven't checked 'em. Everything okay?

Yeah, but you missed lunch.

I didn't know you were back, didn't know we were having lunch.

Because you didn't check your fucking messages.

I laugh.

Sorry. How was it out East?

No good.

That sucks.

I've decided I'm going to have the entire course fucking torched. Burned to the fucking ground.

Really?

No. Fuck no. But I didn't get on and I'm pissed.

Sorry.

What have you been doing?

Met a girl.

Who?

Her name's Allison.

Nice name. How'd you meet her?

I went to school with her, knew who she was there. She was out here visiting a friend of hers and we all had dinner.

And?

And we had dinner the next night, then she stayed with me for five days, then we went to Santa Barbara for three days, then she went home.

My son, oh my son. This sounds serious.

Maybe.

Are you in love with her?

Madly.

Have you told her?

No.

Why didn't you tell her?

I don't know.

Why'd you let her go home?

I don't know.

Are you ready for something like this?

I feel like I am.

You're over Lilly enough to be with someone else?

I feel like I am.

I feel like I am isn't good enough. If you're going to tell this Allison that you love her, you need to be sure.

Who said I'm going to tell her that I love her?

Are you sure?

Why do you need to know?

I don't need to know, you need to know. Are you ready to love someone, and are you sure about her?

Yeah, I'm ready, and yeah, I'm sure.

I assume you have Allison's phone number.

Yeah.

We're going to hang up. You're going to call her. You're going to tell her that you love her, that you want her to move to Los Angeles, that you can't live without her. Then we're having dinner.

I laugh.

What if she doesn't love me, or she doesn't want to move here.

Then we will have a miserable dinner.

I laugh again.

We're hanging up now, my Son.

Okay.

And you're going to call her.

Okay.

And then you're going to call me back and we'll make dinner plans.

Sounds good.