“Here. This is for you.” The bartender places a clear drink down on a coaster in front of Kiki.
“Me?” She surveys the faces around the bar. No one makes eye contact with her. “Who from?” But she’s speaking to the bartender’s back.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
Kiki turns. The man standing on her right is tall and strong. His curly ginger-gray hair is gathered into a ponytail. She considers lying, but he doesn’t seem threatening. “No, I’m not waiting for anyone. Are you?”
“No.” He grins shyly. Kiki gets the sense that he’s unsure what comes next. She resists the urge to help him out. He gestures to the barstool next to her. “Do you mind if I join you?”
Instead of answering, she gestures to her mystery drink. “Is this from you?”
“Yeah.” He has a nice smile. It reaches his eyes, which are kind. “Do you like it?”
“I haven’t tried it yet,” Kiki confesses. She takes a sip and frowns. “What is this, club soda?”
“Yeah.”
She pushes the drink away. “It’s good for water, I guess.” Club soda? She’s not sure who this man is, but his game is not on point.
He shrugs an apology. “I told him to bring you over what you’d been drinking.”
“Well, you don’t know if I was drinking water because I like it or because I have to,” Kiki says. He shifts his weight from foot to foot. She takes pity on him. “Why don’t you sit down?”
“Because you didn’t invite me.”
Kiki smiles for the first time. “Consent is important.” She gestures to the chair. “Go ahead. Knock yourself out.”
“I’m William,” he says, offering a hand.
She takes it. “Kiki.” His hands are warm. His grip is firm but not crushing. There is a gentleness about him that she likes. “Nice to meet you William.”
“Nice to meet you, Kiki.”
…
People flow in and out of the crowded bar. She keeps getting jostled. But the food is good, and as long as she stays close to the wooden rail, she can eat without getting too annoyed at the hip patrons streaming past her into the dining room.
A voice calls out, “Hey!”
Kiki turns. The man who spoke is good-looking in a rugged way and well-dressed, like a Viking in a Brooks Brothers suit. She digs his vibe.
He grins. “Mind if I join you?”
“Sure,” she smiles. “I’m Kiki.”
“William.” He shakes her hand. “I hope this doesn’t sound creepy, but I spotted you across the room and I had to know who you were.”
“That doesn’t sound creepy,” she says. “Actually, I get that all the time.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You do?”
She nods. “In fact, a man almost died for me in New York. He didn’t look before crossing the street, he was so intent on meeting me. I watched him through the plate-glass window. He almost got hit by two cars. He rushed into the diner, to my table, apologized and told me I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He had to follow me to know who I was. He said he never did that kind of thing but asked if he could get my number and take me out.”
“Did you give him your number?”
“No. He was creepy!” They both laugh. “So, see? What you did was not creepy.”
He cocks his head. She likes the way he looks her over. “If I asked for your number, could I take you out?”
She turns away to sip from her drink and think about it. Her eyes cut back to him. She smiles. “I might like that.”
…
Kiki feels the bass throb. Its frequency vibrates deep at the base of her throat. The drum line kicks in and she throws up her hands, swiveling her hips to the beat.
An arm snakes around her waist from behind. It feels delicious, but she’s here alone. She turns to smack the stranger.
He grabs her wrist and smiles. A halo of curls dance around his face. She’s no longer angry as he says, “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. I didn’t know how else to meet you.”
She laughs, shocked and delighted by his boldness. “Maybe buy me a drink next time?”
“I’ve tried that,” he says. “You were mean to me that time.”
She tilts her head back. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?”
In response, he grabs the back of her head and kisses her. The intent is strong. The execution is gentle. Everything else slides away and she is here now, with him. He lets air slide back in-between them and flicks a finger against her cheekbone. “Hi. I’m William.”
…
They meet over and over again. Every time they pretend to be strangers. At first it was a game. They started playing it after William confessed one night that he’d never been much of a player.
“You’ve never picked someone up at a bar?” To Kiki, it seemed incredible that he’d never done something she’d made an art of in her twenties. “Do you want to pretend we don’t know each other next time we go out? You can pick me up?”
He had considered her proposal. “That might be fun.”
“Who do you want me to be?” She flipped through a mental catalog of the type of women he might want to pick up. “An icy beauty? A wounded dove? A rock-n-roller? A Russian spy?” She had lots of costumes. She liked the idea of being someone else. “I’ve got lots of wigs. Do you prefer blonde or pink hair?”
He kissed her forehead and told her, “I prefer you.”
“Me?” She’d laughed. Then, she realized that he wasn’t kidding.
“Yeah,” he had confessed. “I mean if you want to dress up you can. But I don’t need that kind of fantasy. I mean, I love your mesh bodysuit, but if I met a woman and that’s what she went out to bars in just to pick people up . . . I think that’s kind of creepy and sad. Don’t you think so?”
“I guess.” She had scratched his bearded chin and kissed his sweet lips. “So you want to go out and pretend to pick me up? As yourself?”
He kissed her back. “Yes. Is that okay?”
Her eyes shined. “Of course.”
…
Twenty years later, their charade is still fun. Only now, it’s not a game.
Every morning, William wakes up to a brand-new day, a new life. Just as his father and his father before him did after dementia set in. And like those men―who lived their lives fulfilling obligations rather than their hearts’ desires―he’s finally given himself over to himself.
Kiki doesn’t mind reintroducing herself to William over and over. She knows that they are bound together, even if she’s the only one who remembers all the adventures they’ve had.
Every day is a chance for them to fall in love all over again. Each night, whatever angel is assigned to William descends and wipes his memory clean. Sometimes he’s surprised to find her in bed with him. Other times, he’s overjoyed. But he’s never scared. He takes it as it comes. And Kiki gets to decide which story she’ll tell him, what life they’ll live out.
“I didn’t get your name last night,” she may whisper as his legs entwine themselves around hers.
“It’s William.” His name and how he loves her are two things he never seems to forget.
“Sweet William.” Her hips tilt to welcome him. “Nice to meet you.”