Nodding, I reached for it. "Yeah. It's pretty much the only lead I've got."
He let out a bark of laughter, which startled the dog. "Lead? You sound like a god
damn secret agent."
"Yeah, well," I said, tucking the card into my pocket. I realized after I'd started to
respond that I didn't really have an answer, so I just let it hang.
"People put way too much effort into these damn holidays," the man grunted, sitting
back on the stool behind the counter. "In the wrong way, too."
I was on the verge of walking away, but for some reason, I didn't.
"What do you mean?"
He crossed his arms. "When's the last time you just talked to him, spent time with him?
Instead of wandering all over creation looking for some book that probably doesn't exist."
"I can't," I said, immediately feeling defensive. "He's been working late. He's very
busy."
"Hmph," he replied, his brow furrowing. "I'll stand by what I said."
"Well, thanks for your time." I left quickly, trying to shake off the uncomfortable
feeling that his words left me with.
Just talking to him, spending time with him, that wasn't enough. He got plenty of that
from me already. He was my entire life. Didn't he know that?
You know he doesn't. On some level, you know he doesn't understand. How completely you belong to
him. You want to tell him, but you're afraid to confront it yourself.
Coward.
***
I sat in front of my sketchpad, morose, clutching the pencil so hard I was surprised it didn't snap.