Chapter 8 #2
Scar took the plate of food into Tally’s office. Her desk was a disorganized mess. It was a major contradiction to everywhere else in her life. He put the plate down on a filing cabinet as he walked around to look at her piles of paperwork. One stack had braille punched onto a thick piece of paper and an inked page stapled behind each. Interesting. The machine at the corner of her desk reminded him of the fax machines he’d seen in his youth.
Unlike those machines, there was no screen or number pad. All of the instructions on it were in braille. After turning it on, he picked up a piece of paper from the stack that didn’t have the braille marks. He had to wonder how someone who was blind knew which direction to feed the piece of paper. For that matter, what happened if the piece of paper was two sided?
He fed the paper into the machine. The first paper did not come out the bottom as he expected but instead looped through a rolling scanner before coming out the back. Inside the machine whirred, and he heard a series of clicks before a thicker piece of paper was ejected out of the bottom feed.
Following the pattern Tally had already started, Scar stapled the two together, careful to place the staple in the very top left corner where she had the others. As the dinner staff started getting ready to reopen their doors, Scar worked to help organize her desk. He’d watched her get more and more frustrated as the week passed and she’d been unable to complete the necessary tasks required to run her business.
The entire time he worked, his eyes kept glancing up at the plate with the salad and sandwich she’d made for him. He hadn’t eaten yet that day. His body was used to fasting and being around good smelling food usually didn’t tempt him. But he wanted to try her food. The food she’d made for him .
“If you’re hoping for a free meal, you’re SOL, asshole. I only give free food to my friends.” Her words from that first morning in her apartment echoed in his mind.
People said that the eyes were the pathway to the soul. Scar couldn’t argue that he could easily read people’s intents and emotions through their eyes. Tally’s eyes were, for lack of a better word, dead . They were inanimate, fake. They could no more tell him what she was thinking than what she was feeling.
And yet, that did not make her any less expressive. If anything, it made her more expressive. Tally didn’t do things like nod her head or shake it. The little visual cues and idioms that people did naturally, having picked up on as kids, but that didn’t make her emotionless. Watching Tally’s expression was like watching a child’s in a way. Kids didn’t know to hide and it was refreshing to see her openness.
Something had been different today. He didn’t know how to describe it except to call it the way she looked at him, which he knew was inaccurate. It had been the way she defended his presence to her best friend and the utter certainty that he would not harm her.
Without him having to say a word, without her seeing the sincerity on his face, she’d understood.
Scar knew the food Tally had given him was clean. He’d watched her prepare the meal and she wouldn’t have the standing she did with the health department if her kitchen wasn’t kept so perfectly sanitary. He’d been given food before. Jenna had been trying to get Scar to eat for years and yet he’d resisted that food. Sissy knew better than to offer him food, but she did get him water and would get annoyed when he didn’t drink it in front of her.
His eyes fell on the sandwich.
He turned away, continuing to clean up Tally’s desk. To his surprise, a laptop was underneath all the paperwork. He supposed using a laptop was no different than learning to use a cell phone, but he still found it impressive.
The noises from the kitchen and dining area picked up as time moved on. Scar finished up organizing her desk, turned off the braille machine, and was still fighting with himself about eating Tally’s food when he heard voices coming down the hallway towards the office.
“…have time for this, Mark.” That was Tally’s voice. While annoyed, she did not sound afraid or in pain.
Scar made a running jump. His boot hit the brick wall of the office, and with a mighty push, Scar was able to reach the four inch square support beam up above. He used the momentum of the jump to swing himself up and over. His boots hit the beam just as the office door opened to reveal Tally and Mark, her boyfriend.
Crouched precariously above them on his hands and feet, Scar scowled at the man. He worked in IT with Tally’s best friend’s husband, Tom. Based on their social media history, Tally and Mark had been dating for approximately two years.
Scar couldn’t find anything wrong with Mark, per se. The guy didn’t mistreat Tally in any way, as far as Scar could tell. But there was something about the man that Scar just did not like.
Maybe it was how he let Tally work long, stressful hours and then let her walk home at night alone. From what Scar had deduced, Tally had not told Simone about the attack the week before. Which meant there was a high possibility Mark didn’t know either. So if Mark didn’t know that Tally could fight, why was he not outside Tally’s restaurant every night to drive her home? Even if it was out of his way, even if it was past his bedtime, even if it cut into his schedule, why was he not there every single night for her?
Scar would be.
From his place above them, he listened to their conversation:
“I know you don’t have time to talk to me, Tally. You never have time to talk to me. I’m starting to feel like I’m dating myself here, baby.”
Tally’s hand rested on the side of her desk. Her head tipped slightly as she then started to feel around it. After a moment, she brought her other hand up too. “I know I’ve been neglecting you, Mark. I am sorry, but I don’t know how to fix it. Until I get certain things handled here, it won’t change. I understand if you want to take a break from this relationship?—”
“That is not what I am saying,” Mark insisted. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing?”
Tally had walked around her desk in a complete three-sixty and was now touching the stacks of paper Scar had organized for her. “Um, just looking for something.”
Mark snorted. “Hilarious,” he said dryly. “Fine, if you won’t talk to me now, will you please let me get you after work and take you to my apartment? We can open a bottle of wine, talk, and then go to bed.” He walked up behind Tally, wrapping his arms around her waist. Scar watched as the man pressed a kiss to Tally’s cheek. “I miss you, baby. I am trying to be supportive, but I really miss you.”
Tally sighed. She stood straighter, taking her hands off of her desk, and leaned back against him. “I miss you too,” she said softly. “And we do need to talk about our future, Mark. I’m sorry for being such a bitch. You deserve better than me.”
“I deserve you , Tally. We’ll figure out our schedules and create something that works for us.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “Will you come over tonight?”
“Mark, you know it’s hard for me to be at your place. I’d much prefer to go to mine?—”
“I’ll clean up!” he swore. “I promise.”
Tally’s face scrunched, but she still said, “Fine. I’ll try to be done by eleven-thirty.”
“Awesome.” He turned her face to kiss her on the lips. “I’ll be waiting with bells on.” Then Mark walked out of the office.
Tally let out a long sigh. She clicked her tongue several times but her head never moved directly up at him like she’d found his hiding spot. She did however find the plate of food on the filing cabinet. She reached out for it, frowning when her fingers discovered the full plate.
Sadness like Scar had never seen before crossed her face. Like she was mourning the loss of the uneaten food. Scar felt a pang in his chest like he’d taken a blade to the heart at the sight of her dejected expression.
Tally took the plate with her as she left the office, closing the door behind her.
* * *
[WiseWave620: Oh fuck! I don’t even know if you know about Jenna. Shit, man. Why can’t you just be here when we need you?]
[WiseWave620: Jenna was diagnosed with late-onset multiple sclerosis. She claims it’s not a death sentence, but you should see Steel. It’s like he’s being burned alive from the inside out. I can’t imagine Steel without Jenna. The universe sucks sometimes.]
* * *
By the time Mark was pulling into the parking lot of The Unseen Palette , Scar was entering Mark’s two bedroom apartment. He lived in a fancier building towards the heart of Atlanta on the fourteenth floor. Scar had stopped by the apartment earlier in the week to look into the sort of man Mark was and he had not been impressed.
In a word, Mark was a slob.
Scar completely understood Tally’s hesitation to come to Mark’s apartment. In comparison to hers, Mark’s was a sty.
Looking around now, Scar could see where Mark had attempted to clean to keep his promise to Tally, but the man had failed miserably. Rather than placing his shoes on the rack by the door, the shoes were by the rack. A pillow was still on the floor next to the couch and the remote control for the television was on the couch. The bed was made but the comforter was too large for the mattress. A wet towel was on the floor in the bathroom. From the water droplets still in the bathtub, Scar could only assume that Mark had just showered prior to departing to pick Tally up. None of the chairs in the kitchen were pushed under the table and the odd angles of the chair legs could easily be caught by a foot or a shin.
Shaking his head, Scar started picking up all of the tripping hazards. The man could do his own fucking dishes, but would it kill him to put the knives somewhere Tally’s hands couldn’t accidentally brush them on the counter? Maybe this was why Scar did not like Mark. It wasn’t that he was a bad guy, he just wasn’t the right guy for Tally.
* * *
[WiseWave620: Did you know Tessa and Bear had their baby? They named her ‘Julia’ after you.]
* * *
Tally kept her cane in front of her as Mark guided her into his apartment. She really wasn’t sure about coming over, but he’d been so insistent and she really did feel guilty about the state of their relationship. She needed to find a way to break up with him gently. Her argument not to do so before his birthday was becoming flimsier.
Before or after his birthday, it wasn’t fair to him to string him along. She needed to come clean about the fact that she wasn’t in love with him and didn’t believe she ever would be. She cared about Mark too much to be dishonest, and blaming her busy schedule was the coward’s way out. Yes, it was nice to have someone, but he could still be her ‘someone’—just a friend ‘someone’, not a lover ‘someone’.
Tally was shocked when she was able to walk into his entryway without coming across a shoe, coat, or sock on the floor. “Wow, you really did clean up.” She hoped her chuckle took away any criticism he might take from the statement.
“Um, yeah…” His voice trailed off, but there was a hint of confusion in it too. “I guess. I mean, I cleaned but… I guess I cleaned more than I thought I had?”
Tally didn’t know what that meant. He’d, what, subconsciously been cleaning? Sleep cleaning? Didn’t he know how much he’d cleaned his own apartment?
Tally heard Mark’s footsteps change from the carpet that covered the entryway, living room, bedrooms, and hallway to the linoleum of the kitchen floor. “So weird. I could have sworn I’d left… And where’s my… Oh, there it is…”
Tally took careful steps as she headed towards the living room. She knew approximately where his furniture was, but it had been known to shift over the years. Using echolocation, she was able to find the back of the couch without walking into anything and then used her hand to guide herself around with the intention of sitting. The lamp at the end table had a cord that she’d tripped over before, but she couldn’t find it with her cane. Using her ears and tongue, she found the lampshade and then guided her fingertips down to the base of the tabletop lamp to locate the plastic cord. Squatting, she followed the cord all the way down, discovering it was now tucked between the table and couch with it spiraled around itself like a snake under the table to the in-floor plug.
It was so surprising that Tally made a nondescript sound.
“What is it?” Mark came out of the kitchen. From the tinkling of glass, she knew he was carrying wine glasses. But she did not hear the swirl of liquid and wondered if he was bringing the entire bottle out for them.
She had no intention of drinking that much tonight.
Tally stood up. Even with the cord out of the way, she still walked carefully around to the front of the couch. “I’m impressed with how much you’ve cleaned up. I really appreciate it.”
Mark cleared his throat as if embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah, I guess. I just…” She heard him place the wine glasses on the wood coffee table. “Apparently, I guess I cleaned up more than I usually do?”
It still sounded like a question, like he was as surprised as she was that his apartment was so clean. But if he hadn’t cleaned up, then who?—
Realization hit Tally as the cork popped out of the wine bottle. She jumped more than normal, not paying attention enough to Mark’s movements to realize what he’d been about to do.
“Oops, sorry. I should have warned you.”
“No, it’s fine,” she insisted. Her heart was racing like the cork had been a bullet. She turned her head, clicking her tongue. The wine being poured into the glass did not distract her or overwhelm her ears as she searched.
But she couldn’t find her mystery man, nor could she sense him. The scent of the wine did overpower her nose and she couldn’t detect that hint of metal she’d come to rely on around her mystery man.
Was he here? He had to be, but why would he be? How did he even know where Mark lived? How had he gotten into Mark’s apartment? And fuck, was she crazy, or had he cleaned Mark’s apartment?
Mark picked up her right hand to guide the wine glass stem to her. “Here you go. It’s that Barolo Serradenari by Giulia Negri you like so much. I picked it up this evening after I stopped by the restaurant.”
Tally bit her tongue against telling him that she had known that as soon as he had uncorked the wine. The aroma of plums, violets, and tobacco was quite distinctive. She took a slow sip, savoring the hints of licorice and sweet spices. “I appreciate it.”
Mark sat back on the couch, pressing his side up to hers. “I’ve missed this, you know. We haven’t just ‘hung out’ in a really long time, Tally.”
She couldn’t argue with that, because it was true. “I know, and I am sorry about that. You’re a really good friend, Mark, to be so patient with me.”
She both felt and heard Mark’s hesitation. “‘Friend’? Is that all I am to you, Tally?”
Tally switched her wine glass over to her left hand and reached forward to touch his thigh. “Do you love me, Mark? I mean, truly love me?”
She heard the swirling of liquid like he was spinning the wine inside the glass. “I… want to love you. I feel like I could, if given enough time.”
“We’ve known each other for three years, Mark. That’s longer than most marriages.”
“But most of that time has been spent apart! That’s what I wanted to talk to you about tonight. I want you to consider moving in here.”
Tally nearly dropped her wine glass. “ What ?”
“Think about it, Tally. We never get to see each other. You’re up too early and out too late and I’m working towards that promotion I told you about. But if we were living together then we’d actually be able to see each other.”
Tally did not feel like this was a good time to point out that she would never see him. Her sense of humor would likely fall on deaf ears right now. “Mark, I don’t think moving in together will help us.”
“Then what do you suggest, Tal? Frankly, unless you hire me at your restaurant, I feel like we’ll never see each other!”
She knew he was being sarcastic, but it actually wasn’t a bad idea. At least she trusted Mark like she did Simone.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Mark. I feel like we were better off as friends. Do you think you would be able to go back to being friends? Just friends?” she clarified.
Mark shifted on the couch next to her. She felt him lean forward and then the light clink as he lowered his wine glass to the coffee table. He didn’t sit back up, though, and a quick click of her tongue confirmed her suspicion that he was hunched forward with his elbows on his knees. She heard him take a deep breath.
“I don’t know, Tally. I’m almost forty-three years old. I thought I’d finally met my forever girl when I met you.”
Tally clicked her tongue to locate the exact distance to the coffee table and then put her wine glass down. She looped her arm through Mark’s and took his left hand between her two. “And the one thing I didn’t hear in that argument was that you love me. Mark, you shouldn’t have to settle for me. Neither of us should. I truly believe that you and I were better as friends.”
Mark raised his left hand, keeping hold of her right to bring the back of her hand to his lips. “Are you sure? Sex with you is pretty great.”
Tally laughed. “I can’t argue with you there, stud.” Sobering, she added, “But there needs to be more to a relationship than great sex.”
“I don’t know…”
She detected the teasing note in his voice. “Behave.” She nudged his shoulder with hers before resting her cheek on him. “I want us to stay friends, Mark.”
His lips pressed against her hair. “We will always be friends, Tally. I’m just sorry we can’t be more.”
In that, she agreed. “Me too.”
“So, um, have you ever heard of breakup sex?”
Tally sat up, pushing him away as she laughed. “You rascal! I am not having sex with you!” And not just because she suspected they were not alone.
Simone might have a point about her not thinking clearly, because she really should find that fact disturbing. What was wrong with her?
Mark chuckled. “At the very least, will you stay for a bit so we can catch up on things and talk like we used to?”
“Absolutely.” Tally stood up. “But first, I need to use the bathroom.”
“Oh, um, I might have left my bath towel on the floor. Let me go?—”
“I got it,” she assured him. If what she suspected was true, that bath towel would not be on the floor. But then, why would Mark think that someone else had cleaned his apartment? Only an insane person would.
Which led Tally back to her possible insanity.
However, she planned on testing her theory. From the other times she’d been in Mark’s apartment, she knew that there was a table in a small alcove in the hallway with some picture frames on it. She accidentally bumped into it on her way to the bathroom.
A picture frame fell to the floor; its plop was muffled by the carpet.
Since Tally was never one to pass up an opportunity to pee, she did use the bathroom facilities. Sure enough, there was no towel on the floor as Mark thought there might be. She was careful when stepping on the bathroom rugs around the toilet and by the vanity.
Upon exiting, she used her hand on the wall to guide her back to the alcove. The picture frame she’d knocked on the floor was no longer there.
“Mark, did you come back here?”
His voice carried down the hall from the living room. “No. Did you need me to?”
“No,” she answered hastily. “Just thought I heard something.” She turned in a circle, trying to find him. Her nostrils flared slightly. In a low voice, she said, “You’re there. I know you are. I always dread coming over here because it never fails that I trip on something. As odd as it is for me to say, thank you for breaking in here and cleaning up.”
It was slight, but she felt a shift in the hallway. Almost like a confirmation that he really was there.
Turning around, she headed back into the living room.