Counterpoint

Chapter 3

Thomas

   I am not quite certain as to what possessed me to invite Alexander Hamilton into my home, but as of this very moment it is beginning to trouble me. Was it an act of sympathy? Of pity? For the first time in several years I am uncertain as to what I am feeling. From the moment I stepped through the doors of that gas station and laid eyes on a distracted and seemingly anxious Hamilton everything else froze. Why did it all begin to feel so insignificant when I laid eyes on Hamilton looking so pathetic and miserable in a gas station that he had no reason to be in?

   Martha had once said that I have a kind heart and when I choose to listen to its urges that I become the kindest of all the men on this Earth. She truly did have a way to make even the most uncertain of men feel that they were on a mission entrusted to them from the very heights of heaven. She had been a God sent in my life and I had cherished every moment with her, but it hadn't been enough to keep her here on Earth. It seems that the Lord had finally realized that one of his kindest angels had fallen from the sky and he took it upon himself to reach down and reclaim her.

   I close my bedroom door behind me and take a deep breath before walking further into the room. It has been almost three years since Martha has passed away. I am uncertain as to what caused my late fiance to reappear in my thoughts, but now that she is here it is difficult for me to banish her from my mind. My computer is flashing and the familiar tones of a Skype call ring through the air. I sigh softly before walking over to my desk and sitting down in the chair and accepting the call.

   "About time you answered your call Jefferson." Gilbert Marquis de Lafayette scolds me from his seat in his room on the other side of an ocean. "This is about the third time that I have tried to call you this evening. Have you been trying to avoid me?"

   "Don't be ridiculous." I reply in french. "I was preoccupied this evening that is all." 

   "Preoccupied?" He repeats slowly. "What exactly was preoccupying the time of the great Thomas Jefferson?" There is a grin on his face as he looks at me and I already know where his train of thought is taking him. 

   "It is nothing romantic I assure you." I roll my eyes. "It isn't even friendly." 

   "Ah," he says with a laugh. "This must surely have to do with monsieur Hamilton." I say nothing as I tap my fingers along the surface of my desk. "Oh," He smirks. "It does." 

   "The biggest pain in my ass is currently staying down the hall in his own room for the night." 

    "Wait," Lafayette leans back in his chair as he stares at me with puzzled eyes. "Are you telling me that Alexander Hamilton is in your house with you right now?" His hand drifts as he speaks as if he is plucking the syllables and their very meanings out of the air. "How did that happen?"

   "I invited him."

   "Yes, obviously you smart ass, but why did you do it?" He turns his head slightly as he continues to look at me with suspicious eyes. "What exactly happened between the two of you to bring this strange cohabitance to fruition?"

   "He was stranded at a gas station with a dead cellphone, and apparently there was a major gas leak at his apartment complex and the entire building was emptied. It was raining and he couldn't sleep in the gas station so I offered him a place to stay for the night."