Page 19 of Mr. North
Thalia takes her cell phone out of her purse, tapping quickly. She gets up and comes to sit down beside me on the couch. “I posted this photo on Instagram a while back,” she says, showing me her phone. It’s a shot of Thalia and me standing outside a bar back when there was still snow on the ground. We’re both wearing hats and scarves, grinning into the camera. This was the night Thalia tried to knee David in the junk for hitting on her. The band actually played well that night, and the two-for-one margaritas at the bar got the better of us. We were pretty wasted by the time we went outside and took that photo. There’s no caption, only the photo. It’s been months since I’ve checked social media accounts, so I didn’t even know she’d posted it.
“He saw this,” Thalia says. “He asked about you. Who you were. How long I’d known you. I told him, and then I didn’t think anything else of it. Last week he emailed me and asked for me to arrange for you to come to play chess with him. His idea, not mine. I was shocked, but I agreed. It’s been so long since he’s shown an interest in meeting someone he doesn’t know that I just agreed right away. I still don’t know why he asked me to do it. All I know is that he’s a good guy, Beth. He’s a solid, good person. He’d never do anything untoward to make you feel uncomfortable, and he’d never do anything to hurt you. Beyond that, it’s been eighteen months since I’ve seen him face-to-face, and even then that was through a glass door. I was being selfish, too. I wanted to hear how he’s doing from someone who’s seen him recently and in person.”
“Eighteen months? God, Thalia. Is he mad at you or something?”
Sadness pours off her in waves. “No. Maybe. We still speak on the phone. Email all the time. He’s…he’s just Raphael . There’s no other way to explain it. If you keep going to play with him, I’m sure you’ll figure that out for yourself,” she says quietly. She bites on her bottom lip. “Will you still go?”
“I don’t know,” I grumble. “It would make me feel better if we could meet somewhere on neutral ground. A coffee shop, or, I don’t know…somewhere other than his apartment. The place is pretty overwhelming.”
Thalia pulls a face. “That’s not going to happen,” she says. “Public places are impossible for Raph. He’s recognized everywhere he goes.”
“What about here, then? Surely he could make the effort to come here. I know it’s not exactly the Ritz Carlton, but it’s also not a dirty, rat infested hole in the ground.”
“I know, Bee. I love your apartment. You know I love hanging out here with you. I can guarantee Raphael doesn’t think he’s too good to come to your place. I can promise you that. It’s just…he doesn’t like to risk traveling through the city. I know he’s not going to go for it. Just…please. Please keep going over there. I know he’ll be less stuffy the more time you spend together.”
I should say no. This whole situation was weird to begin with, and it just got a whole lot weirder. Despite the secrets, Thalia’s been so good to me, though. She came and looked after me for weeks when my father died. She’s stayed up all night studying with me when I’ve needed the motivation and the support. She’s consistently been a good friend to me, even when she’s been inconsistent in every other area of her life. I grab the pillow beside me and hug it to my chest, resting my chin on top of it.
“Yes. Yes, I’ll keep going. But on two conditions.”
Her eyes shine brightly, filled with relief. “Of course. Name them.”
“You have to get him to stop calling me Ms. Dreymon.”
“He’s gonna complain.”
“I don’t care. It makes me feel old, not to mention on edge.”
“Okay, I’ll make it happen. And the second condition?”
“No more money.”
“Beth!”
I hold up my hands. “I’m serious. He’s your friend. He’s one of your closest friends by the sounds of things, even with the whole refusing to meet with you in person thing. What kind of asshole would I be if I took money from him now?”
“You know he’s not paying me, right? That whole cut thing was just to make it seem more above board.”
“It doesn’t matter. I won’t take a cent from him. It’s too weird, Thalia. Just…no .”
She looks disappointed, but she nods. “Fine. I’ll tell him. He’s not going to like it, though. He’s not going to like it one bit.”
