Sunlight slants oddly on the man in the cream suit so as to make his entrance seem backlit dramatically and his features blunter, ruddier. It pours in glowing red through the swinging door, the green and red glass. The only waitress on the slow midafternoon shift glances up from the dark mahoghany counter mildly and for just a moment the sunset catches in her eyes.
"Welcome back, old man. Been a while." she says, and, "Having a drink?"
"Yes, please, Dolores. It certainly has." Her name is Emmy. She keeps smiling.
"Your usual?"
It takes the man a full minute to ponder the question. He isn't as old as he looks. His hair is still mostly brown and his jaw mostly full.
"No... no, I'm coming off the stuff this time, I swear, Felicia." If this surprises her it doesn't register on her face. She isn't as young as she looks. Her slick ponytail is dyed auburn and her cheeks retain a fraction of their former color.
"What'll it be, then?"
"Just tea, thanks. Black." For the first time he looks up at her and their eyes lock for too long and then she shuffles off to the brewer like it didn't happen and brews him some damn tea. Her hand shakes. "So, what have you been up to?"
"It doesn't matter." he says, "Because it's all over now." He's looking past her and the walls and everything beyond them all at once somehow.
There's another brief moment of silence, and the absence of the ticking cuckoo clock that once graced the pastoral wallpaper is felt acutely. The tea is ready. "That's silly..." she says quietly.
"Any plans now? You've got to keep... doing things... with your life, you know?" A few vague hand gestures accompany the sentiment. "I think, Edna, you of all people should know what I ought to be doing next." he says with elaborate informality.
She spills a little bit of the tea and it wells up on the counter and before either one of them knows it it's lining the edge of his fine cream pocket. The realization seems caught in dim suspension and when it ends all of a sudden he's getting up, he's pushing in his chair, he's walking away, "I'm sorry, Professor-"
He's looking deliberately at her, and smiling for the first time in months. "Are you coming, Emmy?"
