Chapter 41 Kal
41
KAL
Eyes on the floor, I observe my breath. I feel the officer’s attention on me, but in my mind, Miz and I are alone, at the café beside the Elilly Hotel. Through the officer, and in different words, Miz is saying the same thing she said to me that morning. Except this time, neither of us has the option of walking away from the conversation. Not without serious repercussions. We have to see it through.
“I was so hurt,” I say, speaking to the side of Miz’s face. She grips her thigh slightly and slowly raises her eyes to meet mine. My anger melts away like butter. “I was so hurt at first,” I say softly. “But after a time, I agreed with her. I rescinded my proposal, and we took our time.”
I feel as if we are really looking at, not through, each other at last.
“We just dated. Enjoyed being together without pressure.”
“I see,” the officer says, losing what little interest he had in this behind-the-scenes exclusive, this outtake that was never filmed. To him, it’s irrelevant. But to us, this chance we never had to not be forced to rush is everything. Can we still do it? we ask each other silently with our eyes. Can we backtrack and put that part in? Meanwhile, the officer flips mechanically through the red binder of recent, real mementoes of our short-lived happiness. He opens the envelope that I had put on the desk: photos of the wedding-eve party. I feel my throat tighten. That was the one night where Miz and I had been 100 percent in total sync, body and soul, husband and wife. What I now consider a preview of what may be possible for us, years down the line, I suppose.
“I don’t see your mother or father at either of your ceremonies,” he says to Miz, presuming the pics to be our second wedding in Ethiopia. “Why?”
“They didn’t know I was getting married,” she says simply.
The officer sighs. His shoulders sag, and he drops his hands on the table. Too many twists in this case for his speed, perhaps? “And why might that be?”
“They have this very…complicated relationship, and I didn’t want any of that around mine. What’s theirs is theirs, you know, and what’s mine is mine. They know about him, of course. And they like him.” She smiles at me. My eyes widen at this new information. They know? Miz gives me a tiny nod. We have a lot of catching up to do! This time, she nods emphatically, eyes wide.
“I noticed you were limping slightly,” the officer says to Miz, interrupting our telepathy and trying to return to doing this by the book. He turns to me. “What happened?”
I smile. “Went too fast, too soon.”
Miz gives me a thumbs-up. “Ma’am,” the officer warns.
Physical contact is prohibited, but I extend my hand to her, as a peace offering. Let’s get in trouble together. “Pushed too hard, tried to do too much too quickly,” I continue.
Miz accepts my hand, sending a current of warmth spreading through my entire body. The officer slaps his file folder shut and pushes his chair back loudly. “All right, we’re done here.”
Miz abandons her chair and lands herself on my lap, hugging me tight. I touch her everywhere all at once, as if to confirm it is really her, that she’s back in my arms. “Egypt,” I say, kissing her palm, surprising myself with a voice from the depths of myself, like Cleopatra is her given name. “Thou knew’st too well my heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, and thou shouldst tow me after. O’er my spirit thy full supremacy thou knew’st.”
“Oh!” The officer gasps. We turn and look at him, almost surprised that he’s still there. “My favourite! You know the play?” he says, beaming, his entire demeanour transformed into that of a regular person with emotions and passions.
Miz and I look at each other in wonderment. Unbeknownst to us, we were in the presence of a closet romantic! “He was in it,” she says proudly, and adds with a bit of sass, “It’s in the files.”
“What a small world!” he says, clapping his hands. “I’ve attended the summer shows in the park ever since I was a boy! It was my life’s dream to be on that stage.”
“Well, my guy can tell you all about jumping on your dreams,” Miz says, cupping my cheeks. “Can’t you?” After planting an unabashed, unauthorized kiss on me, she retakes her seat so I can regale the officer with everything he has ever wanted to know about the training, the rehearsals, the productions. In short, the life. Information I would never have guessed might be the key to our success today. After about fifteen minutes of this, the officer reluctantly, but much more pleasantly than earlier, ends the interview.
“I’m very sorry to have missed your performance,” he says, extending his hand.
I shake it firmly. “Remember, it’s never too late to go for it.”
“I’m going to be giving a lot of thought to you two,” he says, as he shows us out.
Miz pauses at the door. “Uh, is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Thanks for coming in,” the officer responds, already dissolving back to his official, unreadable persona. It’s a bracing reminder that just because we had a few minutes of friendly informality does not mean that Miz and I are safe from our case being denied.
“Did he just…was he just playing us?” Miz says once we are outside, looking just as puzzled as I feel.
“Impossible,” I say, snaking my arm around her waist. “No one could play us but us, baby.”
She snort-laughs. “Goof!”