Waiting for Sunday

chapter 15 - the art of oasis

Felix has just stepped into the break room, where his coworker Kevin is already standing at the coffee maker, when his phone rings in his pocket. The name on the caller ID makes his heart kick to life in his chest, and Kevin must notice, too, because he winks at him. Felix just shakes his head, politely flipping him off before stepping right back out into the hall.

"Hello?"

"Felix, thank God," Lillie exhales. "I mean, hi. Hi."

A short thrum of panic shudders through him like a plucked violin string. "Hi, Lillie. Are you okay? What's going on?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just—I'm sorry, this is so sudden—do you have plans tonight?"

It's not the direction Felix was expecting this phone call to go. He adjusts his stance, leaning his shoulders back against the wall, trying to manually infuse himself with coolness, calmness, collectedness. "Besides cleaning and probably messing up a few recipes I found online? No. Why?"

"There's this thing my professor wants all of us to go to, a gallery opening? I was gonna go with Mira, but we're not on the best terms, and Moses went back to Tennessee yesterday. It just...it would just be kinda weird if I showed up by myself, I think. So I was wondering, maybe, if you're not busy..."

A smile creeps across Felix's face. "You want me to come with you?"

"If you can. If you want to."

"Gee, I don't know," Felix says, his voice taking on a gently sarcastic tone. "I thought we were supposed to be focusing on the curse situation, and I just don't know how a gallery opening would help us achieve that goal..."

"Felix, really?"

"You might even call it somewhat of a distraction, and you know, I don't really have time to spare for distractions these days..."

A cough of laughter. "Felix."

"But for some form of payment, I'd consider it."

"Payment? Are you serious?"

"Get drinks with me afterwards," Felix says, "or I'm afraid I can't make it."

A pause. "I had no idea you could be this infuriating," Lillie says, but Felix can hear the grin in her voice.

"They're on me, of course. The payment is your presence."

"Infuriating," Lillie repeats, and laughs. "Fine. Deal."

Felix hangs up, rests back against the wall. He's remembering what he said to Reina last night, what he promised, and he's remembering the sound of Lillie's laughter in his ear.

It's one night. It's only one night.

It isn't exactly cold, but as close as Atlanta gets to cold, a chill just ripe enough to nip at the skin on Lillie's face, a temperature almost comfortable to stand in if it weren't for the frequent gusts of abysmal wind.

Lillie stands just under the navy blue awning of the gallery, waiting for Felix. Through the window behind her is a little capsule universe of gold chandeliers and women in shimmery long dresses and people competing to hold a champagne flute in the most elegant yet casual way possible. She can hear the faint swell of an orchestral quartet, a hum of jubilant laughter. She wonders how many from her cohort are already here, but turns away from the window, not wanting to look. Out here it's chilly, yes, but it's still quiet and light without the weight of expectations. She'll linger here as long as necessary.

"Lillie!"

She turns at the sound of her name to find Felix jogging to meet her, the street behind him a blurry white kaleidoscope of car headlights. A silver sedan with a ride share light on the dash peels off the curb and melts into traffic.