Wishes (Short Story)

Guest Post by George Arthur Davis

The salesman sees her examining items on display. He recalls they once were lovers until she revealed she had another lover she loved more than him. She drifts towards him and will soon reach his station. He braces himself mentally for the encounter because she is still his only love. She looks at him then after a double take asks.

"Michael is that you?"

He stutters. "Yes. It’s me. How are you?"

"I’m fine."

She still looks good, even better than the last time he saw her.

"Shopping?" He inquires.

"Not really, I’m just window-shopping. You work here?"

"Yes. Floor manager." Then off her questioning gaze. "I gave up the starving artist thing," he says to satisfy her curiosity.

That is how he met her in Rittenhouse Square Park; he was attempting to sell a painting to her and then convinced her to pose for a portrait. And then, in the privacy of his apartment, she posed partially nude and later modeled nude after they became lovers.

"You stopped painting?" She asks.

"No. I just stopped trying to buy food with my paintings."

She smiles.

He does not see a ring on her heart finger. "How have life been treating you?"

"No complaints, and you?"

"Other than not being a starving artist, I’m okay."

"That’s good."

He glances at the wall clock. "I got lunch in a minute," he says, "would you like to join me in a goblet and sandwich?"

He recalls it was their thing when they were lovers to enjoy a glass of wine with a sandwich and a bowl of fruit.

She hesitates with an answer.

"Just to go over our old time together," he says.

"Well. Okay."

Not seeing the ring encourages him to believe that the guy who got between them as lovers is no more in her life. She has not stopped being in his life, and he wish, he can no longer wish she would return to being in his life.

They eat their sandwich in a slow pace, share grapes from a bowl, while sipping wine during their conversation of their time together until her announcement that sadden him to this day, but encourages him to ask her. "What did he do, leave you?"

The question surprises her and her expression tells him it did, and he stares at her finger. She sees his stare and understands his question.

"We’re married," she tells him. "He is having the ring replaced for a more expensive one like he promised me."

He looks into the crowd of restaurant patrons to avoid letting her see him holding back tears.

"Well, it has been nice seeing you but I have to go now to meet my husband."

"Yes. Sure. Of course," he mutters in a sad manner.

He watches her leave and tears flow to his chin. He still has her portraits but he will always wish he had her. END

George Arthur Davis born in Philadelphia PA (presently resides in Tampa FL); recipient of the Community College of Philadelphia Fall 2001 Judith Stark Creative Writing Award for Script work; Third Place in Scripts – Tampa Writers Alliance 23rd Annual Writing Contest; Black Short Stories Editor's Pick: Fiction Writers Platform Editor's Choice Award and Number One Most Read Story; http://gadavis-writergeorge.blogspot.com