Truthful, Beating Heart

Chapter Three

"Hi Tony..." I said, hesitantly. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in...years."

"Yes it has been a while," he replied. His voice was still too cheerful for the situation, and it made me suspicious. "I saw the accident on the news and I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Uh, thanks," I said, but it sounded like a question. There was an awkward silence between us and I said, "Was there something else?"

"Not really," he chuckled, "We knew eachother so well as kids, I guess I didn't know that it would be this...hard to talk." 

I turned my head away. "In case you haven't noticed, things have changed," I said bitterly. 

I wished, for about the millionth time in two days that I still could see, because I wanted to see his expression very badly. There was a loaded silence and I started to feel a little guilty about being so short with him. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood a bit, I said, "So, how have you been?" I didn't really want any company, nor did I trust him but he seemed to appreciate the change of subject. 

He replied, "I've been good. What about you?" I think he said the last part more to be polite instead of actually being curious but I answered anyway.

"Up until the accident I was really good. Now I'm just I'm adjusting to...you know..." I gestured to my face, unable to say it outloud. 

I was suddenly struck by curiosity. What did he look like? An idea popped into my head, and before I could talk myself out it, I hesitantly asked, "Could you please come closer?" 

I heard him shuffle to my side. I put out my open hand near where I guessed his face was. He seemed to know what I was trying to do and he led my hand until it rested against his cheek. I brought my other hand up to the other side of his face and I tried to visualize what he would look like.

His jawbone was defined and it was surrounded by smooth skin. The stubble from his last shave tickled my palm. His cheeks were soft and his nose felt like something a celebrity would kill to have, straight and turned up slightly at the end.

"I've only seen this in movies," I confessed, with a ghost of a smile. I hadn't smiled since the accident.

 I felt his full lips shift into a grin and there was a gentle expulsion of air from between his lips as he laughed. It made me smile wider. His eyes were closed but his long eyelashes reached out and brushed my fingers. His hair was cut short to his head but it was long enough that I could tell it was curly. I asked, "What color is your hair Tony? Is it still blonde?" He laughed again, a subtle movement of air past my fingers, and said,

"I can't believe you still remember that hair. But no, it's brown now." I felt like I could see his face. I almost felt like I had my eyes back. Almost, but not quite.

"Thanks." I said, pulling my hands away from his cheeks.

"For what?" 

"For coming, for letting me see you, for making me smile. Take your pick." I smiled in his direction, not knowing if he was looking or not. His finger brushed my cheek and I froze. I was not trying to open up an invitation. We were pals as little kids and I did want to be friends again, but I couldn't let him see that was what I wanted. I didn't want to set myself up for a fall. He ditched my when we were younger. Nothing would keep him from doing that again.

"You still have the same smile," he said. I smiled wider and momentarily forgot my inhibitions about him. For the first time in two days, I felt something other than crippling sadness. I felt almost happy. 

Tony told me softly, "You know, when we were younger I thought for sure that we were in love and we were going to get married." He chuckled, clearly embarrassed. "But I guess it was just a little crush," he said. To my horror, my heart rate picked up a little bit, and that range machine gave me away. Beep. Beep. Beep...beep...beep. I managed to calm myself down, though I could tell my cheeks were still red.

His fingers pulled away from my face and they touched my unruly brown curls. Then he said, "I see that your freckles are still around," he tapped my nose and then he said, to my surprise, "and you still bite your lip when you're nervous." I immediately stopped chewing on my lip and blushed deeper. The machine's beeping speed picked up again, and I had a harder time slowing it down. 

I heard the crinkling of tissue paper and he said, "Here. I brought you some 'Get Well' flowers."  He set them in my hands and I lifted them to my nose very carefully, not wanting to ruin the moment by poking myself in the eye with a stem, even though it wasn't as if it could do any more damage. The flowers smelled wonderful. Like summer days and cool nights at the lake. Hikes in the woods and the buzz of bumblebees and camping out. I touched them with my finger tips, gently and the petals felt like thin, perfect velvet.

"Thank you, Tony. I'm sure they're beautiful. I just wish I could see them." I gave a pathetic smile. 

"But now they can be any color you want them to be," Tony said. "You can see the best, or worst parts of them. You just have to see with your heart," he paused, "and then trust it."