Page 77 of Come Back To Me

I stand up to go outside with him. The traffic is thick, rush hour. I kick at his last cigarette butt with my boot as I wait for him to light up. Eventually I can’t take it anymore.

“Ferdinand, tell me where he is.”

I put both hands on my hips like I can intimidate a six foot four bull of a man. He blows smoke out of his mouth and for a moment his face is lost behind the cloud.

“Your mother named you after Ferdinand the bull, didn’t she?”

His eyebrows jump at the sudden change of subject, but it just occurred to me that she must have and I felt the need to ask.

“Yes,” he said.

“Because you were huge or preemie?”

“Preemie,” he says, frowning.

I nod. “What a prediction.” Then I drop my hands to my sides letting my shoulders droop. That’s how I really feel: droopy.

“I’m sorry I never got to know you before,” I said. “I had—have issues.” I sit down on the wall outside David’s old building and stare up at the sky. It’s getting ready to rain, I’m going to get drenched.

Ferdinand sits down next to me, sighing deeply.

“I never liked you,” he says.

I look up at him. “You knew I’d hurt him.”

“Yeah,” he says. “David sees the best, I see the truth. And you had that look of panic in your eyes the whole time you were with him.”

I nod. That was true. “I love him very much,” I say. “I just wasn’t good at love back then.”

“Why not?”

I look at the street, a couple is crossing a few feet away—they remind me of David and me back in the day.

“I didn’t have anyone show me until David and then it scared me off. When you’re unhealthy, healthy things are frightening.”

“Are you healthy?” He looks at me and I resist the urge to look away.

“No,” I tell him. “But, I’m getting there. I know what I need to do.”

“Find David,” he says.

“That’s part of it, yes. We’re still married, for God’s sake. Something has to be done one way or another.”

He stares at me long and hard. “All right,” he says finally. “I’ll give you his address. But, you have to promise me something.”

I nod, vigorously.

“No more games,” he says.

I cross my heart. Ferdinand shakes his head as he texts me David’s address.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mumbles.

“Thank you, Ferdinand,” I say as I stand up. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

I start to run toward 1st Street, but he calls after me. “Yara! That address is for a houseboat.” I hold up my hand to show him I’ve heard him and I keep running.

I run to Ann’s flat—apartment—and fling open the door. She’s sitting by the window watching the traffic as she does every day at this time.

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