Page 26 of Blue Umbrella Sky
“I’m good. Too much and I’m jittery all day long. And I already had a cup at home.” Billy finished his eggs. “So, you put out an extra mug this morning for Corky?”
“Yeah.” Milt looked off into the distance. He kind of wished Billy hadn’t brought the subject back up. He’d almost forgotten it, but like forgetting for a moment in a sleep-addled state that Corky was gone, his faux pas this morning cut deep. “You think you’re over somebody.”
“And then you roll over, expecting them to be next to you in bed,” Billy said.
“Exactly.”
Billy gave him a gentle smile. In light of what Milt knew of Billy’s feelings toward him, he thought the smile was kind. “You know what youcoulddo?”
“What?”
“You could allow yourself to, say, leave out a mug for Corky in the mornings. Or set a place at the table for him.” Billy leaned a little closer. “What would be the harm?”
“That would be crazy. People’d glance in at me through the window and call the loony bin so they could send out men in white coats with butterfly nets.”
“That’s a lovely image. Not the men in white coats, but the part where I see you through the window, setting a table for two. That reminds me of a scene fromRear Window. You seen the movie?”
Milt nodded through a mouthful of eggs. “Love it. One of Hitchcock’s best, in my humble opinion.”
“You remember when Jimmy Stewart is spying on his neighbors and he sees a woman all gussied up? She’s at her dining table, set for two, and she’s talking away to someone, laughing, maybe even pouring some wine. And then you realize she’s by herself. Did you think she was crazy?” Billy asked.
“No. I thought she was desperately lonely.”
Billy said nothing. He finished his coffee. At last he walked over to Milt’s picture window and stared outside. He became almost a silhouette in the bright sun, and Milt had a weird sense of déjà vu.
“I’m alone. But I’m not lonely.” Milt began to gather up the dishes and then began rinsing them and then loading them into the dishwasher.
Billy turned. “Okay.”
“You don’t believe me.” Milt felt a little punch inside. He perceived it as anger, irrational, but anger nonetheless.
“You’re projecting, Milt. I never meant to imply that.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I just thought it might be nice for you to remember him in a simple way, like putting out his coffee mug in the morning. Instead of looking at it as an antidote to loneliness or insanity, you could choose to simply see it as a gesture in his memory, a way of making yourself feel a little closer to him.”
Milt thought of the orange mug in the cabinet. Could see it in his mind’s eye. And he thought Billy, really, was awfully nice to make his suggestion. When he thought about it objectively, it wasn’t so crazy or pathetic. It was actually kind of sweet.
Still, he didn’t know if he actually wanted to implement doing something like that.
Silently, Milt finished loading the dishwasher, made the determination that it was full enough to justify running it, and then pressed the appropriate buttons to begin its cycle. He washed out, by hand, Billy’s blue ceramic casserole dish, and then set it on a tea towel to dry.
He looked over at Billy. “What do you have on tap for today?”
Billy smiled. “Taking a little hike with you.”
At the mention of the word “hike,” Ruby’s ears went up, more erect, and she hurried to sit by the door. She glanced back at Milt, expectant.
“Would you look at that? I think Ruby here has learned a new word.”
“You up for it?”
Milt nodded. “It’s been a while since we’ve been out.”
ONCE THEYwere a little way up on the Goat Trails, with the broad plain of the Coachella Valley spread out below them and Palm Springs proper bathed in golden light, Billy turned to Milt. “I’ve been putting off talking to you for a while. I have something I want to say.”
Milt frowned. “That sounds ominous. Hang on.” He pulled his hooded sweatshirt over his head and tied it around his waist. “I didn’t expect it to be this hot.” He looked at the flaming orb above them. “Old Sol makes all the difference….”
