The rain came out of nowhere. All day Collins had been admiring the blue sky, basking in its endless splendor. He tried to do that more often now- appreciate the immaterial things around him and joy in life. Today, though, joy had been hard to come by. Every corner he turned, Collins imagined that he saw a wisp of black hair or a glimpse of brightly sheathed calf. He walked and walked, even when the sun dimmed and water drenched him.

Collins realized it was getting dark and changed his route toward the Life Café. He chose a booth in the back and ordered a tea, waiting in painful silence.

"Sorry I'm late."

Collins jumped. He'd been so absorbed in his own miserable thoughts that Katherine's initial arrival had gone unnoticed. She wore a light black sweater over the same green sundress, but the rain had flattened her hair and made her resemble more of a drowned cat than a tiger.

"Two beers," she called to a passing waiter.

"Oh, thanks but no thanks. I have a-"

"They're for me," Katherine said, looking at Collins archly.

"Oh."

So much for being a kitten.

"How are you holding up?"

Katherine removed her sweater. She was extremely pale for someone who'd been in Africa for years- white as milk and lightly freckled.

"As good as can be expected, what with finding out my best friend is dead."

She said this matter-of-factly as her beers arrived, and took a long swig of the first.

"You seem…"

"Okay?"

"No; composed." Collins didn't want to belittle the woman's suffering, but she certainly was no longer the shocked and tearful woman of that afternoon.

Katherine shrugged her thin shoulders.

"Death doesn't scare me. I went to the hotel and just thought, for a long time. To Angel, life was this grand adventure. I assume she saw dying the same way. I'm only sad for me, that I couldn't say goodbye."

Collins blinked away tears. She was right.

"It was AIDs," he said. "We both had it, which made things easier; but hard too."

Katherine nodded. "Did she suffer long?"

"Not long."

She sighed. "Overseas I saw so many people who lived in constant agony- a slow death. Was Angel happy?"

"Yes; both of us were."

"Good."

And then, unexpectedly, Katherine laughed.

"You are such her type."

"Oh?"

"Ironically enough, Angel hated flamboyant men. She liked them deep voiced and strong."

Collins smiled at the compliment, and at the pleasant memories that surfaced because of it. "Tell me about her in high school. I've always been curious, but she didn't talk about it much."

Katherine took another sip of beer. "That's because of Tai Williams."

"Who was he?"

The name sounded familiar, but Collins couldn't remember where he'd heard it. The memory nagged at the edges of his mind, like something dreamt but not seen. It was almost like déjà vu, and he inwardly shrugged.

"A boy who was different. Tai played in the school band, excelled in school- especially art. But he had little to no friends, especially after an incident at the end of his freshman year that would traumatize him for a long time. Tai fell in love- with a boy who seemed to share his affection, loved him for the first time…then exposed him to everyone; ripped off the closet door, so to speak, and pushed him out into the open. Took his virginity then laughed about it. Tai became a complete social outcast. This was a small town, the suburbs, a close-knit Catholic community, and no one understood. No one approved. He tried to talk to his parents, but they were sickened by him. For two years he was without any companionship whatsoever; he was taken to therapy, forced to try medical treatment…

Then one day a girl moved to town. She had been home-schooled her entire life and was finding out the hard way that the world didn't revolve around her and people didn't care- except for one."

No wonder Angel had never talked about her adolescence. Collins lowered his face to his hands. He was more in awe than ever at the ability Angel had had to influence those around her with optimism and hope. Tears fell from his eyes- Collins was overcome with sorrow and joy, all at once. A soft hand touched his briefly, fingers calloused at the tips. He realized that this one show of comfort probably had taken a lot of effort on Katherine's part. Collins was calmed, and grateful.


"Mimi! Roger!"

Maureen pushed her way through a group of women in cocktail dressed to throw her arms exuberantly around the couple. Joanne quickly followed, briefly excusing herself and her girlfriend to the irked lawyers. Symphonic music played from strategically placed speakers around the spacious apartment, a quiet background to the murmur of conversation and clinking wine glasses.

"….and you should have been there! The Bahamas were beautiful, Mimi, just beautiful. So many bright colors and amazing food…"

Joanne smiled at the silent Roger. She was disconcerted to see that he looked thinner than the last time they'd met, about a month ago, and pale. Mimi looked healthy, if underfed. Had she lied about finding a paying job? The two of them looked malnourished. Maureen didn't seem to notice- big surprise. Her stream of chatter seemed to pass through one ear of Mimi's then out the other. The younger woman looked extremely uncomfortable, and Joanne herself cringed at the outfit; an attempt to look professional, with far too much cleavage and fishnet to execute the look. Mimi would have been better off going with a simple strappy dress, Joanne thought. Then it occurred to her that this piece of clothing might not have even been available. She blushed in sympathy.

"Where's Mark?" Joanne finally asked. Roger shrugged.

"He disappeared sometime earlier today. I don't know where he went, but I told him about the party."

The extreme comparison between his home and Joanne's made Roger feel incredibly embarrassed, although no one had brought up the subject. He looked around, eying the creamy carpet and mint green walls, tables stacked with hor'dourveshe didn't know the name of, and the classy, well-dressed guests. It was all so much.

Finally Maureen stopped talking. Whether to let someone else have a turn or to take a breath, Roger didn't know. Before he could comment on the splendor of the party, Joanne asked pleasantly, "How's the job, Mimi?"

Roger could almost feel her muscles clenched. He looked at the drink in his hand, not wanting to meet anyone's eye.

"Oh…it's great, Jo. My manager is really nice."

"Macy's, right?"

"Right."

"I'll have to stop by and visit sometime. What's your department?"

Mimi waved offhandedly. "They move me around a lot. We're a bit understaffed."

The women continued to banter, thankfully no longer about Mimi's employment. Roger ground his teeth together. Or lack thereof. Why had she lied to Joanne in the first place? Before she'd left for vacation, the lawyer had offered to help Mimi find a job, but she'd declined, saying she'd already found a permanent position. Roger sighed. Mimi was proud- probably more so than him- and stubborn. Joanne was already paying for Mimi to take nighttime college classes. Even that was unnecessary in Mimi's eyes, and doing more would have been unbearable.

Maureen downed a flute of champagne.

"I'm so glad you guys could come. I've been bored half to death."

It was true. God, if one more of these worshipers of The Man commented on her leather pants, or her too tight silk shirt- with the attempt of being polite but so obviously showing the sneers behind their fake grins and raised eyebrows- Maureen would slaughter one with a quick swipe of her beauty parlor nails. Of course Joanne took offense- she was always so sensitive.

"These are my friends, Maureen. I'm sorry they're not quite avante garde enough for your taste."

"These people wouldn't know good art if art shoved its dick up their ass."

"Were you not there when we went to the opera?"

"Oh, excuse me. The opera." Maureen laughed again. "These people can try all they want to-"

"I'm one of these people." Joanne's teethed were clenched, and the veins on the side of her neck were protruding. She was about to grab Maureen's arm, excuse them from Mark and Mimi, hiss that they needed to talk about…

No. Joanne was tired of pulling Maureen from her crass words and bad behavior.

"Pookie…"

She ignored her girlfriend, turned around, and lost herself in the crowd.


"The thing that makes me saddest is that we didn't get to talk…before. It's almost like all the things we could have said and remembered and promised exist somewhere over our heads – a lost conversation just floating there, in the stars."

Collins thought that this spiel would have been even more touching had Katherine's words not been slurring together. Though he'd stuck to the iced tea, she'd upgraded from beer to wine. He tried not to laugh at the bread crumbs that stuck to her dress and little pieces of that wild red hair. At least her stomach wasn't empty.

"We had lots of time to talk, especially at the end."

Katherine was about to comment when a woman approached them. She was petite and had probably been pretty once, but stress and exhaustion had wrung her out and left her dry, worn looking and lost. The woman held a baby in her arms.

"Excuse me sir," she began timidly. "Could you hold him please, while I go the restroom?"

Collins nodded slowly and took the baby. "What's his name miss?"

"Jacob- after his father."

"And yours?"

"Annabel."

"Do you have a place to stay, Annabel?"

The woman shook her head quickly, biting her lip against the tears that were ready to spill from big blue eyes. Katherine had to hold back her own. It was like Annabel and Collins were the only two people in the room, in the world. They spoke quietly- Collins with a practiced calm, and the young woman with sorrow.

"After you finish in the bathroom I'll give you an address. I'll be there tomorrow; we can talk."

The young woman nodded, still not smiling, and kissed her baby before walking away. Collins stared silently at the child in his arms. The boy cooed and gurgled, smiling a toothless old-man grin. Collins gazed up at Katherine and his eyes were wide. She couldn't read the look there, the depth and the emotion. What was he trying to say? She would have given anything to understand.


Mimi and Roger finally escaped from the tense couple, after Maureen ran after Joanne. They eyed each other nervously, neither needing to say out loud that a scene was probable, even inevitable.

"Are you hungry? We might as well stuff ourselves while we can."

Mimi sniffed the air. It did smell good.

"Alright. Let me go to the bathroom first."

She kissed Roger on the nose, feeling herself finally smile at the twinkle in his eyes. Where was the bathroom? She finally noticed a cracked door, noticing a sink inside.

"Oh! I'm sorry."

Mimi had accidentally knocked a woman's drink. It didn't spill, luckily, but the statuesque blonde frowned. She mumbled another apology and slipped into bathroom, not before hearing the woman say to her friend, "What is she wearing? I didn't know it was Halloween."

The blonde's friend replied one word that seemed to seep up from under the door and fill the bathroom, making Mimi feel claustrophobic and sick.

"Slut."