The Other Side Of Midnight

“Whoa, is that you, Autumn?” he asks, coming to a stop a few feet in front of me.

“Hi, Joe,” I greet without slowing my steps.

“You’re looking hot, babe.”

“Thanks, Joe. Have a nice night.”

“Sure thing, babe. Sure thing,” he calls as I pass him by.

For a few seconds, I don’t hear his feet moving on and I can feel his eyes boring into my back, but then gravel under his feet crunch as he heads away from me. I exhale the breath I’m holding. As I get closer to his caravan, I hear his wife sobbing.

She is a pitiful creature. When I first came to live in this park, I used to try and give her the courage to leave him, but I quickly realized it was no use. She was and presumably still is hopelessly ensnared by him. No matter how many times he betrays her, or beats her up, all he has to do is buy a bunch of flowers and grovel, and she will instantly forget the malice and hurt, and melt into his arms again.

Once I get into my caravan, I text Larry to say I’ve arrived back safely. Then I get out of my borrowed plumes and into my comfortable clothes. Then put my headphones in and call Sam.

“About time you called,” she says. “I’ve been waiting to hear the latest about Rocco Whatshisname.”

“Well, Rocco Whatshisname is actually a Count and he took me out to dinner tonight.”

“What?” she screams in my ear.

I wince. “Will you not do that please. I’ve got my headphones on.”

“Sorry,” she says, not sounding sorry at all. “Come on, give me all the gory deets.

“Well, he took me to the Four Seasons—”

“Wow!” she breathes, impressed. “Was the food amazing?”

“Absolutely. I even brought home dessert,” I say as I pull the red ribbon from the handle of the black carrier bag. Inside is another black box.

“What kind of dessert?”

“Chocolate fudge cake,” I reply as I open the box. It’s almost like a kit inside. There is the chocolate sauce in a little plastic container, a smaller container of cream, a small bag of chocolate shavings, a thinly sliced strawberry, and a small container of ice cream.

“Good for you. Now tell me what happened? What was the date like?”

“Well, it’s hard to say.” I place the chocolate sauce in the microwave oven, snap it closed, turn the dial to seven, and switch it on.

“Well, the hell kind of answer is that?” she demands impatiently.

“I mean, I’ve never had a date like that. It’s like surreal. Almost like I dreamed it all.”

“Have you been drinking, Autumn?”

I carefully put the slice of cake on a plate. “A little bit. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Larry opened a bottle of champagne this evening and I drank a glass on an empty stomach. Perhaps it’s just that. Yeah, that must be it.”

“Listen, I’m going to hang up if you don’t tell me what happened. I can’t make heads or tails here.”

The microwave pings. As I lay the strawberry slices next to the cake, pour the warm chocolate sauce over the cake, sprinkle the chocolate shavings over the cake, and scoop the ice cream on to the side. I try to tell her about my date, but she is right even now I sound jumbled, confused, and incoherent. I take a photo of my cake and send it to her.

“You sent me a photo,” she says.

“Yup, my cake.”

“Very nice,” she comments.

I take a fork and scoop up one end of the cake.

“So you like this guy then?” Sam asks, and my fork freezes in the air.

The question is like a whisper in my head. It makes me see the truth. No, I don’t ‘like’ him. I want him. No, even that is too tame. I crave him… desperately.

“Yes, I like him,” I tell Sam. “A lot.”

I put the morsel of cake in my mouth. It crumbles then melts on my tongue. I close my eyes and I see him. His eyes.

“Look, I gotta go, I’m supposed to meet Bianca for late night coffee and I’m already late, but I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Have fun,” I say.

I pull my headphones off my ears and go outside. It is cold and still. I sit on the chair and eat my dessert. It is delicious and utterly decadent. The chocolate is so dark and pure it leaves a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. There is no one around, but the creatures of the night scurrying around quietly, so I lift the plate and lick the last remnants off.

Like a feral animal.

Chapter 15

Rocco

I stand in the shadows of the trees across the field from her caravan and watch her lick the plate. She is so unspoiled it is almost unbelievable. She puts the plate back on her lap and stares directly in my direction. I know she cannot see me, but it makes the blood in my veins pound harder. I don’t move a muscle. A small raccoon appears in the underbrush close to me. I am so still it walks right past me.