VIII. Stray Cats
I waited in the courtyard while Lindy finished getting ready. I told her the whole pee production was just deliriousness from working so much, and the fresh air would be medicinal. She was obviously skeptical but left in peace to primp.
I laid in the grass facing the sun. The narrow spot between two sectors of garden wasn't exactly conducive to sunbathing, but I squeezed between the flower barriers regardless.
I heard the sporadic sound of the fence opening then shaking closed, and shoes tapping on the gravel walkway. People entering and exiting the complex likely noted the oddity of my presence, but said nothing.
In any small town this scenario would have caused some sort of raucous. Either the residents would chase me away with a broom, or scoop me from the garden and invite me in for meatloaf and beer. This was the city though. Wanderers fell asleep in courtyard gardens sometimes. No big deal.
It was less than twenty minutes until Lindy walked out of the apartment.
"You ready to go Laur?" she said from the stoop. I sat up a bit startled from my garden bed, leaving a Laura-size imprint in the patchy grass. I walked over to her.
She was wearing clean looking casual jeans and a gray v-neck t shirt. Her light brown hair sat on her shoulders, still slightly wet, but it air dried in a way that others may spend hours with products and electronics to achieve. She wore thick framed black glasses and her face looked subtly sunburned from the race.
We took a cab to a tapas restaurant downtown, a few blocks northwest of the Magnificent Mile. Beyond us clusters of credit card traffic and congregating tourists were awing all day and everyday over the idyllic window displays.
We sat outside underneath a big red umbrella, and the sounds of angry horns and cars accelerating with the stop and go traffic resonated on the patio. Lindy ordered a water with lemon, after debating for minutes about whether or not to get sangria.
"It's really good here," I said.
"In a bit perhaps," she squeezed the lemon into her water.
We ordered the waiter's recommendations; marinated artichokes, Spanish potatoes, smoked salmon fillet and Galician grilled octopus sauteed with paprika.
"Lovely. Thank you," said Lindy, as the waiter set down a basket of warm bread.
I felt out of it. I was sitting low in the chair craving some ice cold hose water. I looked at my glass disappointingly.
"You look so tired," said Lindy.
"I am tired. It's more of a state of being than a state of mind though," I said.
"So you're always like this?"
"No. I was kidding. I just didn't sleep last night."
"What were you doing?"
"Nothing really...relaxing. I just can't sleep sometimes, that's all," I said.
"Did you go out?" she asked, not to be patronizing, but she seemed to be just curious in general.
"I mean, sort of. With Cait. Nothing exciting though."
"Oh, with Cait," she said, this time the statement was loaded.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Mom just told me about her that's all." She dipped her bread in olive oil and ate small bites.
"What did she say about her?" I was defensive a bit but couldn't help it.
"She just said it was a weird experience meeting her, and that it was random that you two lived together.. She just worries about you, you know."
"Okay well mom and dad just showed up at my door before graduation without telling me. Cait didn't know they were coming. They didn't even call me or knock!" I said.
"Laur, she was passed out naked in a corner of bottles, and there were stray cats all over your apartment. It wasn't the best of impressions." Her tone was light but I could tell she was actually quite serious.
"We were cat sitting!" I said.
Actually, we weren't cat sitting, but we'd left the front door open all night. Cait had made homemade tuna sushimi and saki earlier that day, a recipe she saw on Martha. She was skeptical of the sushimi, but drank every last drop of the saki. Three stray cats had wandered into the apartment and were feasting on the food left on the counter. Cait passed out in 'empty corner' and woke to my parents, whom she'd never met, standing in the filthy living room.
"Well why on earth was she naked in the corner?" said Lindy, just as the waiter set down the plate of artichokes. He laughed a little at our conversation.
"Oh I'm so sorry," said Lindy, "I think we'll be taking that sangria now!
"Good idea!" he said.
I really didn't know why she was naked. It was just another part of her ridiculousness that couldn't be explained.
"She has narcolepsy," I said.
"I notice you always say what you think I want to hear."
"That's not true."
"Again, that'd be the appropriate thing to say," she said.
"Well if it makes you feel better I do it to everyone."
"Scary."
I put an artichoke on her plate.
"Eat this, it's delicious."
The waiter came back and set down the white sangria with assorted fruit in the bottom of the large bowl glasses. It was imperceptibly strong.
"But really Laur, about your friend Cait..." said Lindy.
"Can we just get off this topic already?"
"Okay just one last thing. They're only worried about you because they don't want you to be distracted by anything that would jeopardize your job."
"They have nothing to worry about, she's been a good friend to me."
"You met her at a bus stop, Laur."
"So? We graduated from the same school. Is there a list of approved meeting places that I'm not aware of? Why does that matter?"
"It matters."
"Fine. We met in class. Does that make you feel better? Either way she's my friend."
"You can't just make up stories. It doesn't change things." It was an ironic thing to say. She kept alluding to surface subjects, unaware of how much more complicated they were to me.
"Well... pointing out my failures doesn't change the fact that they've happened," I said.
"Woa. Let's not over dramatize. The point is, you should get some more sleep."
"You could have just said that."
The waiter came over to us and set down the Spanish potatoes, salmon and octopus dishes.
"We're gonna need a pitcher of this," said Lindy, holding up her half finished glass.
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