Read Online Blink by Rick R. Reed - Free Book Online

hurries away, giving a little wave.
    I watch him go with something like longing.
     
     
    T ONIGHT I’ M meeting my friend Jules for dinner at one of our favorite spots, a little Greek storefront on Chicago Avenue in Evanston: Cross Rhodes. Jules lives nearby, coincidentally on the same street I lived on when Carlos came to my apartment that fateful—or not—night so long ago.
    Maybe walking here after picking her up outside her building on Sheridan Square is the reason I want to tell her about him. Now that we’re settled at our table, glasses of red wine before us, pastitsio for Jules, and a bowl of avgolemono and a feta, cucumber, and tomato pita sandwich for me, I ask Jules, “Is there anyone in your life that you only met briefly, but who left such a lasting impression that you never forgot them?”
    Jules laughs. Her laugh is tinkling. The words “liquid silver” come to my mind when I hear it. It’s one of the reasons I was so drawn to her back when we were younger, a decade or so ago, when we both toiled for an office products catalog, me as a copywriter and she as a proofreader. There’s an easy conviviality between us that makes her one of my best friends, even though she’s a good twelve years older.
    “Are you serious?” She takes a sip of her wine and pushes back her mass of salt-and-pepper curls. “Or are you just trying to punk me by acting all philosophical? That’s so out of character for you.”
    “Yeah, yeah. I’m serious.” I take a bite of my soup and put down the spoon. I launch into my story about Carlos, about how we met lo these many years ago and how I’ve always thought our brief encounter, had it not been for a phone call from my mom, could have changed the course of both of our lives.
    “Oh, you know, you’re such a smartass that I sometimes forget what a softie you are. That’s such a romantic notion—two lovers separated by circumstance, a fleeting moment that changes everything.” She laughs. “Cue the swelling orchestra; find the soft-focus lens.”
    “You’re making fun of me.”
    “No, honey, I’m not.” She pats my hand. “I think it’s sweet.” She pushes her glasses up on her nose a bit. “I wish I had a story like that to tell. But you know me—one cheating bastard of a husband for twenty years and then date roulette.” Her eyes and smile widen simultaneously. “Did I tell you I’m thinking of getting a cat?”
    “No, and I think that’s a good idea. Want me to come with when you pick one out? I know a great no-kill shelter on the west side.”
    “I’m still toying with the idea. My luck, I’d get one, fall in love with it, and then meet Mr. Right, who would be, predictably, allergic.”
    “Then he wouldn’t be Mr. Right.”
    Jules grinned and nodded. “Good point. But tell me more about your Mr. Right. Or Right Then . What made you bring him up?”
    “I saw him today.” I took a bite of my sandwich, chewed, and then revised. “Well, I didn’t actually see him . I just saw his look-alike. Funny thing was, I saw this guy on the ‘L,’ just like when we first met.”
    “And you never take the ‘L’ downtown anymore.”
    “I know. Right?” We eat in silence for a while. Jules refills our wineglasses. “Seeing that guy, though, got me to thinkin’.”
    “Uh-oh. Never a good thing. Have some more wine.”
    “Oh, shut up. Would you think I was crazy if I said I thought I might do a little online research and see if I could find Carlos?”
    “Sweetie, I already think you’re crazy. I thought you were crazy when we worked together down on Van Buren. It’s what drew me to you.”
    “Okay.” I roll my eyes. “Let me rephrase that. Would you think I was any crazier , then? Basically, do you think it’s a bad idea? Stirring up the past and all that.”
    Jules scratches behind her ear and then shrugs.
    “I don’t know. A selfish part of me wants to tell you to just, as Queen Elsa sang so beautifully, to ‘let it go.’” She