Monday, August 7, 2017

What Type Of Man (Part III) - Foundation

     From the moment she smiled the ground beneath my feet felt more stable.  
     "Tabitha, this is..." started Jules.
     "You can call me Tabby," she pleasantly interrupted.  "Jules told me about you.  I like your suit."
     "Thank you," I said feeling a strange rush of blood to my face.  I couldn't figure what was throwing me off.  Was it her brown eyes?  Was it the infectious smile?  Was it the curls?
     Montreal seemed to be moving further away as we spoke.  
     "Shots!!"  Yelled an unrelated voice in the background.
     "Sounds like a good idea...for later...before we go to the motel."  I motioned between Tabitha and myself.  The slick smile cut across my face as I shot a quick look at Jules.  "But, seriously, do either of you want a drink?"  I asked getting my footing back.
     Before Jules could open her mouth to scold me Tabitha laughed.  I smiled back and walked to the bar.  Jules followed.
     "I thought you were going to be nice," she said through her teeth, "not asshole nice."
     Her green eyes were burning through my skull trying to light my soul on fire.
     "Jules," I said taking a deep breath and leaning on the bar, "if I treat her like something gentle that might break then she might just break.  She doesn't want to be treated different.  She doesn't want to be treated special.  She wants to be treated like everybody else.
     "I don't even know what is going on in her world.  You said it yourself, if she trusts me she'll tell me.  I could be some cardboard cutout of a human being or I could be me.  I think I can make her smile for a little while and forget what the world is putting on her.  I don't know if some cardboard cutout could that."
     "If you hurt her..."
     "That is not the type of man I want to be, Jules."
     "May I help you?" Asked the bartender.
     "Three kamikazes please.  Drinks not shots."
     "Coming right up," she said walking away.
     "She won't break," said Jules staring at the bar.

     "I know she won't, Jules."  I said trying to figure how I knew.  Was it the brown eyes or was it the infectious smile?

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