the best part of me

one

—— "AND YOU ARE?" I say to the woman, my eyes catching her striking red lips. She laughs, and I watch as her red lips move. They are enchanting, almost, blending with her matching red dress but also standing out from her immaculate teeth, the only discrepancy a slight crooked canine.

"Julia — Jules — Nell Fitzgerald," I raise an eyebrow, and she laughs again, that sultry goddess laugh. Her laugh causes me to clutch at the bar to steady myself, my knees turning to liquid when she stares at my hand gripping the the bar, then winking at me.

I clear my throat, releasing my grip on the the table. "We're on a middle and last name basis, already?" I smile earnestly, but I can't remove the flirtatious tone in my voice. "Well, Julia, dare I say that your name is beautiful?"

"I was hoping that you'd think that my last name is displeasing so you would replace it with yours," she winks, again, and if I didn't think so highly of myself and equate her constant winking to the fact that she was flirting with me, I would have thought she has an eye problem.

Julia stares at her wristwatch before groaning, a small frown gracing her features, "Fuck me!"

"Not so fast, Julia Fitzgerald," I smile coyly, swallowing the lump that seems to have grown in my throat. "At least let me take you to dinner first."

Julia's mouth twitches, pulling to the side. "Oh, hell. What do I have to lose?" She nod her head at me, and I take that as my cue.

We walk to my my 1941 blue-grey Chevrolet in silence, the only sound brash music curling out from the club into the night sky. "My name is David Halliwell, Julia."

"David Halliwell," she tests the name on her tongue, tilting her head from side to side, deliberating. "Suits you."

I laugh at her response, her brutish and unforgiving ways casting a spell over me. It seems as if her outwardly manner had ripped up my confidence and assertiveness into shreds and she is the one taking the lead. To be very honest, I am OK with that.

"Where to, Julia?" I stop in front of my car, keys in hand.

"Drive me away into the sun where nobody knows our names," Julia says jokingly, but I sense a bit of seriousness in her voice, and a bit of sadness too, "somewhere nobody we know will be able to find us." She grins after this, like her small moment of seriousness never existed.

"Well, David Halliwell, where do you think that place would be?"

"I don't know. Honestly, my first thought would be Vegas." I confess, which earns me a grin from her. "Where would you go?"

"I think San Francisco," of course we both thought of America, I think, because everything happens in America. "I've heard it's pretty there."

By now we are sitting in my car, an easygoing aura between the two of us. "I'll take you to San Fran one day, Julia. It's a promise."

———

The child stares at the old man, a confused expression flickering on her features. "David — you — barely knew this Julia. Why would you promise her things that fast?" It seems, to the child, as stupidity. She would never promise strangers that she would take them to see the ember of a sun in San Fransisco, it seemed like such a brass and brazen thing to do.

"Ah, you seem to forget that I was infatuated with her." The old man speaks with an air of importance as he says this, a knowing smile growing on his face. "I thought you wanted to hear this story. I guess you do not—"

"I do!" The child huffs, arms flinging across each other as she crosses her arms, "it's just that you were very stupid about it. So continue!"

"Let me think then, child!"

———

I gave Julia my house contact, and my address. She had asked for my contact but pointed out she liked writing more.

"You're going to write love letters to me, Julia Fitzgerald?" I quip, and she rolls her eyes, showing me her pearly whites and that crooked canine. She pulls open her door and gets out, before pausing and turning to me. She stares at me for a moment, before saying:

"I might."

She slams the car door before leaning through the open window, which she had opened to stick her head out of and pretend we were in a romance novel or a romance-comedy film. "Goodbye, David Halliwell. I'll see you soon." She then presses a kill to my cheek, and I can feel her red lipstick pressing a stain on it it.

When she leans back, she looks at her mark on me like it's artwork. She looks proud of herself. My cheek is burning from her touch, a tingly feeling rippling through me.

"You'll write, won't you?" I say hopefully, maybe a little too hopefully.

She nods. "Of course I will. You promised that you'll take me to San Fran." As she goes up her path, I pull off, thoughts of her on my mind, already formulating a plan in my head on San Fran.

———

"I mean you said you were in love with her but come on! Really?"

The man waves a hand dismissively, chuckling to himself. "When you fall in love you will understand. You are young, and you have so many opportunities to seek, people to love, and things to lose."

She ponders over this for a moment before nodding to him. "OK, continue the story."

———

Julia does write, yes, thought it was a few three months later.  I open the letter, anticipation running through me like a race-car, tearing envelope so roughly that I rip some of the letter.

I read it many times, each time a hazy feeling of being wanted going over me, like a wave of warm water I'd felt when me and my parents had gone to Blackpool when I was a child. Thrilling—

———

"Do you have the letter with you?" The child asks eagerly, jumping up. "Well, show me them!"

"Don't rush me, child. Besides, your mother is here. I'll show you the letters the next time I see you." The man stands up slowly — his bones are failing him, and he knows that. Arthritis, you see, "To leave you hanging, these letters are very exciting, I promise you."

The child groans but picks up their coat, watching her mother come up the path and open the door with her key.

"Are you ready, kiddo?"

———

—— THE AUTHOR'S THOUGHTS: first chapter yay! I'm so exited to introduce everyone, but so far you've met David, the grandfather, Julia, his lover, David's daughter and her child! I want you to find about David's past, but alas, that's a tale for another day.

Love, E.

QUESTION: What do you think the child's mother's — or David's daughter — name is? Leave suggestions!