Tony Scott - Along Came COVID - Love and Loss in the 2020 Pandemic

Faith opened the door, turned on some lights, threw her coat on the arm of the couch, then planted herself on the couch with her legs under her, a familiar pose. Josh commandeered a barstool. Brian strolled over to the teak desk and began removing drawers, making grunting noises.

“Aren’t you going to help me?” Brian asked.

She shook her head. “I wasn’t planning on it. I wasn’t planning on you being here tonight.”

“You’ve been such a pain about this.”

“Chlamydia? Affairs? Condescending attitude? The way you treat all of us at rounds? I haven’t been a pain.”

“I didn’t give you chlamydia! Now that you have spilled the beans, he knows about it,” gesturing to Josh.

“I didn’t get it from a toilet seat, numbskull. We both know you’re the one having the affairs.”

“I don’t have chlamydia. There isn’t anything wrong with me.”

“Do you have any concept of how many times I’ve heard my patients tell me their men said exactly those words? You’ve heard those words too, idiot!” She turned her head away from him. “Just get your things and go!”

“Can you help me with this?”

“I don’t think so. Use your hand truck.” She held her place on the couch. Josh stayed on his barstool at the kitchen counter like a buzzard waiting for its prey to die.

When Brian was finished, he turned to her at the door, “I’ll come another time for the desk, chair and bookshelves.”

“You don’t get the bookshelves. I bought them, remember?”

“I’m taking them. Everything is community property. I want my half.” His face was red.

“Call before you come.”

“Bitch.” The door slammed.

“Is he always like that?” Josh asked.

“No. Yes.” She didn’t look up. “He was always a little like that, but he has gotten worse. In the last few months, especially since the chlamydia, he has really gotten impossible to get along with. It’s like whatever I want or ask, he takes the other side. I finally got to where I don’t have any meaningful conversations with him. He used to always run with me, but he stopped that a year or two ago.” She wiped more tears.

“Did he ever hit you?”

“No. There were a couple of times I thought he might. One time I slipped out of the apartment just to end a fight. I don’t even remember what we were fighting about, but he went to the bathroom and I left and went for a run. When I got back, he was in bed.”

Josh moved to the couch to sit next to her, but she moved over, not the response he expected or the one he wanted. She wasn’t ready, he guessed.

“You need to go,” she said without looking at him. “I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”

“No problem,” he said getting up, slipping on the jacket hanging on his barstool. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t say anything else as he left. At home, he couldn’t sleep. He tried to read, but couldn’t concentrate. He could feel the hot knife in her heart and the two liters of beer in his belly.

Josh sat in Padilla’s at one of the back tables nursing a large mug of Negra Modelo, a basket of chips, and a dish of cheese dip. He had flipped through weather, texts, and news headlines on his phone when it finally rang.

“Sorry, I’m on my way now,” breathless Faith said.

“It’s OK. There might not be any beer left when you get here. It’s draining away fast.”

“There’d better be! I need a little. Is anyone else coming?”

“No. I didn’t ask anyone.”

“If you want to order, you can. I should be there soon enough. I’m already in the car.”

“Tamales and rice?” he teased.

“Hamburger and French fries.” A raspberry followed.

The waiter knew what to say, “Blue chicken enchiladas and a Mexican Flag? Do you want the other Negra now?”

“Yes and yes, Julio.”

Through a wide grin came, “Bueno.”

She soon flew in the door, sat, looked at the liter of beer in front of her, looked at Josh, and let out a big breath.

“Hard day?” he asked.

“Not really,” she answered. She took a huge pull on the beer. “Just got busy right at the end.”

He lifted a rose from its hiding place.

“A yellow rose.” She looked at it, looked at Josh, and got misty and flush.

“I’m sorry,” he said, panicked by the reaction. “I didn’t mean anything serious or complicated by that. I’ll take it back.” He reached for the rose.

“No!” she said, retracting the rose. “I’ve not been listening to you. You have been telling me that you are—”

“I’m sorry,” his alarm refusing to silence. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I may have sent a signal I didn’t mean to send.”

“No!” she blurted again. “I haven’t been listening to your signals. It was my fourteen-year-old sister who helped me know what you were signaling the night after my birthday party. I want to have a relationship with you. I don’t care what Haley or Ricky or anybody else thinks or says. I didn’t understand the yellow rose last time. I want this, Josh, I want this. I didn’t recognize it before.”

Josh’s elation and the intimacy of the moment was shattered by a stocky figure who rose from a distant table and approached. “What do you think you are doing here?”

“What are you doing here, Brian?” Faith’s voice was tremulous.

“Now I understand,” Brian announced to the entire restaurant. “This street runs two ways. Now we see why I don’t have chlamydia.” All eyes were turning. “I can’t believe this.”

Josh stood and offered to shake Brian’s hand, squeezing between Brian and Faith. Brian backed a step, withholding his hand.

“I suppose he has a key to our apartment,” his disgust spattering into Josh’s face. “I borrowed a truck. I want to come get my desk, chair, and bookshelf.”

“I told you, not the bookshelf.”

“Actually, I do not have a key to her apartment,” Josh said.

Brian remained indignant. “I suppose you have slept in my bed?”

“Actually, no.”

“I suppose you have screwed my wife!”

“Actually, no.”

Faith said, “It’s really none of your business anymore, Brian. You signed papers, remember?”

The food arrived and Josh sat back down, the three words blinding him.

“If you’ll give me a key, I’ll go get my things,” Brian hissed, holding out his hand. “I need to get Peter’s truck back.”

“You’re not going in my apartment without me,” Faith said. “How about Thursday night. That’s the next night I’m at home.”

“How about now,” Brian insisted. “I need to get a move on.”

Faith looked at her watch. “Eight thirty?”

Brian exuded contempt. “Whatever.” He walked straight for the door.

Faith and Josh both took a deep breath. Julio had approached, attracted to the noisy situation.

“Is everything fine?” Julio almost whispered.

“It will be,” Josh said. “We’ve got it under control.”

Faith reached over and took Josh’s hand, “Can you come with me?”

“Absolutely. You shouldn’t do this alone. He scares me a little.”

“He’s getting worse,” she said.

“I wonder if there are other things going on in his life. Maybe the chlamydia woman is making life difficult.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “What’s more, I don’t care. Isn’t that awful?”

“No, I don’t think so. His problems are his problems. We face ours, we make our lives happen, we deal with our issues. He has to deal with his. It is up to him to pick up the pieces and make something of his life.”

He watched her wipe a tear, then, “I’m sure you deserve better than that.”