A soft breeze brought about by the fall blew stray leaves in my direction, a few of them either landing on my lap or else hitting the ground directly. I was reminded of a particular memory from my 12th birthday celebration in which my mom's old, wheezing electric fan had blown pieces of gold and silver confetti onto my face the way these autumn leaves drifted toward me just now; most of it had been found tangled up in my hair—a mess of glossy gold and silver heart-shaped papers—which, I still remembered clearly, my dad had helped remove. I'd sat on the dining table while he had busied himself with my hair, the pair of us looking like monkeys having a lice-picking session. I haven't forgotten how my stomach had ached that night too, full from my birthday cake and from laughing whenever my dad had mimicked a monkey's screeching sounds.
It was a cherished childhood memory, albeit bittersweet in that it simultaneously warmed and panged my heart each time it came to mind, considering the events that followed that fateful 12th birthday: my father left home a week after I had turned twelve years old—and he hasn't returned since.
I crossed my arms and let out a loud sigh as I leaned back on the bench I was sitting on; I willed my mind to set those gloomy thoughts aside and focused instead on what I came to Central Park for. The bench I sat on faced a softball field where a Little League softball game began more or less thirty minutes ago. I squinted my eyes as I watched the field. Sitting close enough to catch a glimpse of the game but far enough so that the crowd wouldn't notice a stranger like me lurking around, I couldn't quite make out the face of the girl I was trying to focus on, but I was sure it was her—a scrawny eleven-year-old with red hair just like mine. With her ponytail glistening even from underneath her blue helmet, she walked over to her assigned spot because it was now her turn to bat. Several parents and children in one corner of the field—all wearing blue and waving tiny blue flags and banners—started to cheer as the girl stretched her arms and positioned herself. Ready to hit, she was motionless as she faced the pitcher, her focus unwavering.
Swift as a bullet, the pitcher threw the ball and Kate swung her bat; the reaction was just as instantaneous—along with her supporters, I gasped in surprise when she failed to hit it. But it was only her first strike, and I calmed myself down knowing she had two more chances to get it right. The pitcher took her aim as Kate was once again motionless, her stance ready; the ball, zooming towards the red-haired batter, slammed loudly against the metal bat and flew into the air, a momentary speck in the sky before it landed back on the field. The opposing team's fielders were now panicky as Kate raced with all her speed to first base, then onto the second—but one of the fielders got hold of the ball as Kate was running towards the third base and I felt my stomach seemingly knot itself as the opposing team threatened to keep Kate from gaining a point.
I found there was nothing to really worry about, however, because Kate managed to run fast enough to slam her foot onto the third base plate before they could tag her there, and now she was speeding back to the home plate as her teammates and supporters, clad in blue, cheered loudly. I stood up and craned my neck, wanting to move closer to get a better view but remembering why I kept my distance in the first place, I held back. Given my distance from the field and the fact that most of the crowd had stood up to celebrate, I barely saw Kate throw her body onto the home plate, screaming triumphantly and raising her fists up to the sky as she claimed the point for her team.
"She's pretty good, huh? Impressive."
I instinctively grabbed my coat, pulling it closer to my body, and sat up a little straighter on the bench in defense of the stranger who made his presence behind me known by commenting on Kate's successful home run. But as soon as the voice recognition clicked and realization sunk in, I knew he was no stranger.
Eli was a lawyer who happened to work in the same building as me; he was one of the associates of the law firm located a floor just below the office I worked in. We met roughly six months ago in the elevator on the way to our respective work areas; he—a newly hired, newlywed man straightening out his sleek, black suit, fumbling nervously on his first official day at work—and I stood side by side that day, not speaking a word to each other (as did everyone else in the crammed elevator) until I was getting off on the 33rd floor and he, having just realized he should've gotten off on the 32nd floor, scrambled out after me and asked where the staircase was. A few more chance encounters on the same elevator, as well as several other lunch rendezvous, soon led to the kind of relationship that he and I had now.
"You weren't answering my calls, Emma." His voice took on a serious tone as he sat beside me.
"My phone died." The lie automatically burst out of me, a divertive tactic to avoid discussing what there was to talk about.
"No, you always keep your phone battery charged so that couldn't have happened." He said matter-of-factly. "You weren't answering my calls on purpose. I stopped by your apartment building but you weren't home, and that's when I remembered how we always seemed to secretly meet up in this part of Central Park— so I took a chance, came here, and I was right, wasn't I? You're here."
"Congrats on figuring it out." I told him dryly, not bothering to keep my sarcasm under control.
"You seem off today. Is everything okay?"
I leaned back and didn't speak.
"You're not going to say anything?"
"I'm sorry I ignored your calls," I finally answered, not feeling genuinely apologetic. "I've been thinking about a lot of things; I was distracted." I was telling the truth this time.
"Well what's on your mind?"
I knew he was going to follow up on that, but I merely shrugged and looked on in the direction of the softball field, my eyes not really focusing on anything.
Eli sighed, knowing it was not going to be easy to try and argue his point with someone as stubborn as I. He'd already tried to crack me open a few times before, but in all of his attempts I only just kept my mouth shut until he finally gave up trying. To think he was an attorney, he didn't seem to be persistent enough; that, or maybe he thought it better to just let me be and not risk losing me by being too pushy—not that I was going to stick around anyway. "Alright then." He faced the softball field, slipping his hand into mine as he looked on. "The girl who played earlier looks a lot like you," he mused. Suddenly I was tense, my hand squeezing Eli's, to which he merely chuckled.
"I was kidding," he added, pulling me along with him as he stood up. "I just meant you both had red hair. I honestly couldn't see her face from here; I'd need my glasses—that and maybe a closer look at the kid could give me a better judgment."
"Ha—right." I forced myself to laugh, so Eli wouldn't get any ideas about my actual connection to Kate. I turned my back on the softball field. "How about we head back to my apartment?" It was another divertive tactic to keep Eli's mind from wandering—from wondering why I seemed so nervous when he mentioned the red-haired girl playing softball, who—for all he knew—was a stranger to both of us. Besides, even if I didn't ask the question Eli would still end up in my apartment, regardless of whether or not I was in the mood to waste my time away with him.
"Then you'll tell me what's on your mind once we get there?" His voice was coaxing once more; a longing for me to open up to him was evident in his eyes, but I couldn't let that happen. I can't.
"Eli, it's nothing worth talking about." It's not worth talking to you about, I wanted to say. We began to take the short walk back to my apartment, which was a building situated just a block away from where we stood in Central Park.
"No matter how silly you think it is, you can tell me about it," Eli said softly, still hoping to persuade me.
"I said no," I told him firmly, freeing my hand from his. He responded with a stiff nod of his head, at this point realizing that it was not wise to keep asking me to spill my precious thoughts out on him like he was my personal diary. "So what did you tell your boss this time?" I asked, changing the subject—finally.
"Definitely not a lie about meeting my client—it's getting overused," Eli answered, quite proud of himself. "For once I'm using one of my sick days, the way you usually do."
"And your other boss?" I meant his wife, Karen.
"She's out of town in a conference that'll last until tomorrow evening. She'll be back on Monday. That's the rest of today and tomorrow all to ourselves, which means we better make the most of this weekend…." Eli held me close by the waist. "This is the longest we've been left alone together, Emma," he began cooing in my ear.
"Keep your hands to yourself, we're in public!" I hissed warningly; he stepped back, chuckling, and spent the rest of the walk next to me, our arms brushing against each other.
We finally arrived at my place a few minutes later and as I searched for the key in my bag, Eli, who had been holding back since I told him off, gently pressed his body against mine and pinned me to the door.
"You smell good today," He mumbled, his lips sneaking up on the back of my ear.
"R-right…." I struggled to fit the key into the keyhole but managed to open the door anyway.
Eli wrapped his arms around me, his hands finding the buttons on my coat and slowly unbuttoning them. "I want to tell you something, Emma…."
"What now?" I drawled mockingly.
"I promise to give you the best experience of your life tonight—" he whispered.
I held a hand up to his mouth, shushing him as I took off my coat and started towards the bedroom. "Are you saying you're pleading guilty to having never given me the best time of my life?" I found a loophole in his statement and decided to tease him with it.
"Okay, that was not what I meant at all," Eli retorted, following me to my room. "Don't go using law jargon on me, not right now when I'm on my day off and trying to seduce you—"
"Unbelievable!" I sat on my bed, laughing as I took my shoes off. "That was seduction?"
"Yes, I was trying to seduce you—if only you'd stop interrupting me." Eli spoke smoothly, as though speaking to an attentive crowd in court. "Now will you let me finish?" He shrugged off his coat and eyed me inquisitively.
"The floor is yours," I gestured at the space between us and raised an eyebrow at him. "As you were saying?"
"I thought since I'm spending tonight at your place, I want us to take our time to really get to know each other."
"Don't we already know each other?" I interjected.
"Well," Eli said, smirking slightly. "Here's a deal I wanna make with you…"
"Should I be nervous about this, Eli?" He only laughed in response, ignoring my uncertainty.
"I will make love to you as I've never made love to you before; it won't be like one of those quick sessions at the office. If you let me, I would really want this to be the best night for both of us…."
"And what's the catch?" I felt there was something else Eli hasn't said yet.
"Maybe you can tell me what's inside your head this time. You know, trust me with your secrets? I want you to know you can trust me, Emma. I just felt like it's only me who's been doing the talking lately." Eli walked over to me, the lanky and blond lawyer looking down at me. "I'd also want to know what you're thinking and how you feel."
I closed the gap between us by pressing my body against his, my arms wrapped around his waist.
"So what's the verdict, Judge Emma?" He asked, licking his lips as he waited for my response.
"Right now I'm not so sure," I murmured slyly, my hands toying with his belt buckle. "You did say you were staying the night, though, so won't you mind if I think things through while you make love to me?"
"I won't mind one bit." Eli nodded, his gray eyes gleaming in anticipation. "I'm all yours."