"But a week must pass; only a week, in Anne's reckoning, and then, she supposed, they must meet; and soon she began to wish that she could feel secure even for a week."
Alfred was perched on the back ledge of the lake house. His feet dangled just over the surface of the water. Upon his lap was a sketch pad but the pages were blank. Charcoal was held in his hand while he tried to reach one of the biggest decisions he will ever make before moving charcoal to the paper.
Arthur rolled onto his back. Al immediately took that as an invite and dropped himself down onto his master's stomach, making Arthur groaned and shove the heavy cat down onto his thighs instead. "Bloody cat," he grumbled. "Can't you see I'm trying to read?"
Al just rolled onto his back like Arthur and tilted his head back enough to see Arthur raise the letter to the light.
Written upon it were the words he had been longing to hear without realising it;
I want to meet you. For real this time.
How?
Pick a place. I'll be there. I promise. Tomorrow, what do you say?
Alfred. It's not tomorrow for you. You'll have to wait two years.
I don't care. I'll wait. Go to the restaurant tomorrow and I'll be there. I'll be two years older but I'll be there.
What will you do all that time?
Think of you. And work out every day, get in shape, pray I don't lose my hair...
Are you sure?
I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I've lost so much time already. I don't want to lose any more with you.
See you in two years, then.
See you tomorrow night. Where would you like to go?
As if like magic, the spring in Alfred's step returned along with the goofy grin that refused to leave his face. Arthur said yes. They were going to meet up – probably this time. It was two years but he could wait that long! He could! Just for Arthur he will. He'll work out, and fix up a place for them both to live, and –
He was jumping ahead too far but he couldn't help it. Alfred was giddy and everyone who walked past him could see that. It was a yes! A yes! Maybe he should buy a ring and get hitched too! That would be a surprise for Arthur and how could he turn him down after two years? Al would live with them both and maybe they'll get a second cat to keep him company.
Ah, he was getting ahead again!
Alfred opened the door to the 'IL MARE' restaurant and stepped inside. He felt out of place instantly. There were diners dressed in their Sunday best while Alfred's jeans had paint stains of them. He would have to remember to get a suit in those two years.
The hostess looked up from the reservation book and smiled in the typical greeting way. "I'm sorry, but we just received our fourth star and I'm afraid a reservation at this time will be extremely difficult. When were you hoping to dine with us?"
"Two years from tomorrow. September 15th, 2006." Alfred grinned.
The hostess paused, giving Alfred a look of surprise. Seconds went by until she realised that he was not joking around and was being serious. "We should... be able to accommodate you, sir."
Arthur hanged up the brand new suit from his wardrobe door and brushed his hand against a sleeve for the fifth time to ensure it was completely clean of dust. This day would have to be perfect. Nothing can go wrong. He had the suit. He had the time. Maybe he should trim his eyebrows a bit and do something with his hair?
No, no, no. He wasn't going to fuss over this. Arthur had to pull it cool and take it easy. It was one little date. He had been on a date before. This was no different – who was he kidding? This date was going to change everything. He didn't want to mess it up!
What would they talk about? Arthur didn't have much of a personal life outside Alfred's letters. Maybe he should smuggle in Al to lighten the tension? No, no. That would be bad news if Al escaped.
He took a deep breath and held his hand on his stomach that was feeling queasy. One small step at a time, he told himself. He had to go to work. That will distract him. Then he can worry when getting dressed. Yes, work first then worry later. Good plan.
Arthur resisted the urge to run along the corridor. Since he didn't want to waste time, he ended up doing an awkward jog to the locker room. In five minutes, he'll be gone. Then he will just have to get the train, pray it came on time, and walk to his flat. Then he'll have time to wash, dress, and maybe do something with his hair before leaving.
So much to do in such little time! Maybe he should have asked for a later time. No, he would still be worked up – he'll just have more to get worked up in.
"Kirkland!"
Arthur groaned and skidded to a halt. He turned around to see Ludwig jogging after him. He expected to get told off for running but Ludwig paid no attention to that.
"We never got the daily bloods from the floor."
"What? But the interns were supposed to –"
"They screw up." Ludwig grumbled. "If we take half we can get it done pretty fast."
Shit. "Right," he muttered. He would have to be quick though so he didn't miss his train!
"Come on! Come on! Damn it!" Arthur checked his watch again but only 10 seconds had passed since the last time he looked. He stamped his foot down on the platform and looked down the railways for any sign of the train.
He didn't have time for this! He needed to get home now to keep to schedule! He couldn't be late! He just couldn't!
Arthur's door bounced against the wall with enough force to close itself. The Briton didn't notice. He paid no attention. He couldn't even see it because he was too busy tugging his uniform over his head. Blinded, he crashed into a small table and swore loudly when his big toe caught on the leg.
Al backed away to avoid being stepped on as he watched his master – dance? – tumble? – move around the hallway and fall back into his bedroom.
"Shit, shit, fuck, bollocks!" he cursed endlessly, tugging off his trousers. If he was quick, he could get a 3 minute shower and then get changed. He would have to miss out on doing his hair. "He's waited two years. What's another half an hour, right?" he muttered.
The 'IL MARE' restaurant was only a few feet in front of him yet whenever Arthur went to approach the door; he would turn and walk across to the ice rink instead. Nerves were getting the better of him.
What if Alfred changed in those two years? Would he still look the same? What if he didn't have the same interest in Arthur as before? What if he decided to come purely to break up? What if Arthur did something stupid and completely humiliated himself in front of Alfred? What if –
His hands gripped onto his coat and he took several deep breathes. Alfred would be sitting in there now this very minute. What if he was thinking the same things? Maybe he was worried Arthur wouldn't turn up? He could be getting ready to leave this very second and –
He was such a mess!
"Come on, Arthur," he whispered. "It's a date. One little date. You'll have fun. You'll laugh and joke and talk about all that has happened. Maybe then you'll make plans to meet again or... or maybe you'll offer to take him to yours and..."
He dropped to his knees and held his face in his hands. He was not ready! He thought he could do this! This was nothing short of torture!
But Alfred had waited two years. Two years just to meet Arthur. Arthur couldn't let him down. He just couldn't. It wouldn't be fair and how was he going to explain himself to Alfred in the past if he messed this up? 'Oh I'm sorry but I was too scared to go and see you so I stood you up'. No. That wouldn't happen. He'll do this!
He stood back up and took a few more deep breaths then walked over to the door. His hand was shaking when he reached out and yanked the handle towards him.
Immediately, he tried to locate Alfred but there were too many people and pillars in the way. The queue in front of him moved and he walked over to the hostess.
"May I help you?"
"Yes," Arthur said, breathlessly. "I have a reservation. Kirkland? Or Jones, I'm not sure which name it's under."
The woman examined her book. She looked from the page to Arthur then back to the page then to Arthur again. "Oh! You're the-" she stopped herself and then smiled brightly. "Follow me."
Arthur was surprised to find the table was empty. Alfred wasn't there. Maybe Alfred was running late too?
"I hope you'll forgive me, but I can't help asking..."
"Yes?" Arthur removed his coat and placed it on the back of his hair before settling down. He straightened his tie and tried to clean off the dirt on his trousers from when he was on the ground. Everything had to be perfect.
The hostess eagerly responded, "This reservation is sort of... legendary. It's been here longer than-most of the staff. There's always been intense speculation about who made it, and why, and if you'd actually show up. Some of the crew even have bets going..."
Arthur blinked and looked around. All across the room, waiters were sneaking glances at him. Chefs were peering out from behind the kitchen door. He suddenly felt self-conscious. His cheeks were burning red.
The hostess must have noticed for she quickly apologised. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - I'll send the waiter for your drink order right away."
"Thanks..." Arthur unfolded his napkin and placed it onto his lap. His hands rested on the edge of the table, trying to resist the urge to fidget. The waiter came over and Arthur didn't even notice until a glass of champagne was placed in front of him.
"Complimentary," he said in the corner of his mouth. "And good luck!"
"Thank you..." Arthur said weakly, taking the champagne.
Arthur's glass was empty. He refused another refill and could see the staff watching him and whispering to one another. The hostess shooed them away but he could still feel their staring boring into him.
Where was Alfred...?
Diners were lingering over dessert and chatting intimately across candlelit tables. The night was pulling in and couples were coming and leaving until only a small handful remained in the restaurant.
The empty glass was still sitting in front of him along with a couple of others. He didn't want them to be cleared away. It covered up the empty view in front of him. The suds had all dripped down to the bottom of the glasses. He watched them expressionless but it soon came too much to bear.
Alfred pushed back his chair and stood up. Everyone was watching him gravely, not in bothering to cover up their stares. Arthur didn't care. He pulled on his coat and left without a single word.
You weren't there.
Alfred stood at the mailbox and read over the words Arthur had left behind. "Fuck..." he said loudly. "Dude, I'm sorry!" How could he have missed such an important date? Maybe something had happened to him. Maybe he was caught up in a project. Maybe he forgot to write it down. He must have had a good reason not to be there but couldn't think of any on top of his head.
He scribbled down a reply and stuck it back into the mailbox.
I don't get it. Something must have happened. Look I've got two years. I'll try to fix it. Give me a second chance. I won't screw up. I promise.
Al snuggled up against Arthur. His master hadn't left the bedroom since arriving back from the lake house. He didn't even greet Al and didn't say a single word all day. He just curled up in bed silently and Al was trying his best to cheer him up.
"Stupid how much it hurts..." Arthur whispered, making Al's ears twitch. "I didn't realise how hard I had fallen." Al nuzzled his face against Arthur's cheek. "... maybe he does deserve a second chance."
Meet me tonight at my place. Just come. I don't care about anything else. Just be there. Please.
Arthur curled up on his sofa. The T.V. was off so there was no sounds to drown out the possibility of having someone knock on the door. Al was curled up in front of him, giving no choice this time as Arthur was using him like a living teddy bear. Al didn't mind. He liked licking Arthur's face without being pushed away.
He didn't dress up this time. In fact, he was in his pyjamas. His fingers ran through Al's thick fur again and again and again. Having the cat's warmth against him was comforting.
The clock on the wall ticked by on and on.
And on. And on.
And on.
Al looked over to the clock. Though he could not tell, it was gone midnight. He looked down at Arthur's sleeping face. The cat's ears flattened against his head and he rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes.
I'm sorry, Alfred. It's too late. It already happened. I'm not upset. Well, I was at first. But now I just feel stupid - for forgetting how much a person's life can change in two years. And for expecting yours not to change. For expecting you to wait - to run in place, to put your life on hold, for me.
But I can do it. I can wait for you. I know I can. I wouldn't just forget...
Maybe you did. Maybe wherever you are 'now,' you're busy, and happy, and living so fully in the present that the dinner date you made two years ago just... slipped your mind. The way we forget impossible fantasies when we outgrow them, when we get on with our real lives.
Alfred brooded over the letter. There was no way Arthur was being serious. Or was he...? Alfred was so sure that he could wait two years but if his future self never turned up then maybe...
Are you saying I should get on with my life?
Arthur helped wheel a patient to the waiting lounge. She thanked him then wheeled herself over to her husband and daughter who hugged her tightly with tears in their eyes. Arthur watched them with a sad smile.
I'm saying... I think we both should.
"No, no, no!" Alfred whimpered, scribbling out his reply. "Damn it, Arthur. Don't do this! We can try again! I don't care how many times it takes. I will get to you! We'll be together! I promised!" He slammed his letter into the box and bit his bottom lip. "Don't give up on me..."
PLEASE WRITE BACK.
Alfred returned to the mailbox every day. The flag never moved and his letter remained inside. But it wasn't alone. Letter after letter was left behind with it. They kept piling up, never taken out, never read, and never answered.
