elliot edwards and the pursuit of finding oneself

four

a pair of milkshakes and chili cheese fries, three servings of chicken strips and one and a half cheeseburgers later, megan decided to go home. i don't blame her. it was already almost seven and she had to walk back home in the dark since she knew i'd stay all night if i had to. unfortunately she already had friday night commitments with her mom (chinese takeout and mtv).

"i'm suprised you've held out this long." chuck admits to me at seven thirty-two. "it's worth it. i've waited my whole life. i can wait one more day." i responded. just as my hope began to deteriorate at eight-o-three, the bell above the door jingled.

i no longer felt the need to turn and go wide eyed every time somone came in. it was dinner time by now, and a few couples sat clustered around me, leaving all the stools taken but the two on either side of me. that was until a man who smelled of clean linens and foggy air sat beside me.

he first removed his hat, placing it in front of him, next his scarf, laying it over his thigh, and then his coat, draping it across his lap with his big hands littered in rings of all sorts. his hair was dark brown and messy with loose ringlets desperate to form, and when he rolled up his sleeves i saw his forearms being rested on the table.

as i looked closer i saw that the arm closest to me only had one tattoo, while the other was much more decorated in comparison. alice read the tattoo on his bare arm. my lungs deflated like baloons, and i couldn't bare re-filling them as chuck came closer. "hey harry, the usual?"

"yeah, thanks kid." he resonds. an accent. harry had an accent. as i muster up the courage to speak i say "you aren't from around here are you?" as an excuse to look him in the face. "no, i uh... i moved here from england when i was sixteen." he says before finally looking over at me. at first it was a glance, but his bright green eyes did a double take at the sight of me.

mom was right about his eyes, and he looked exactly like the painting she supplied. "why would you ever wanna do that?" i joke. "i'm a writer. apparently new york is where you outta be for that sorta thing." he tells me, examining my face even closer. "a writer. anything i'd know?" i ask him.

"unfortunately not." he states. "do i know you?" he asks. "no. sorry for bothering you." i say, turning back ahead. "no, no. you weren't. you jus' look familiar tha's all." he tells me, giving a friendly smile. a wave of relief washed over me and i turned back to him.

"is that why you're looking at me like that?" i ask. "you just remind me a lot of someone." he tells me. "someone good?" i say in a questioning tone. "only the best. she's the love of my life." he states comfortably. "is that her name there then?" i ask, motioning to the tattoo. "yeah. it is." he answers.

"are you meeting her here?" i ask, despite knowing the answer. "you're very curious." he says smiling. "i'm a writer too. it's in our nature." i state. "a writer? anything i'd know?" he asks me, copying my question. "i'd be concerned if you did. you would've had to have broken into my apartment and read my journals if you had." i reply.

he laughs. he looks younger than i expected him to be. suddenly i think of what it would've been like for him to raise me. would i have his accent? or if i grew up in france, would i speak french? (or at least better than i already do. french class in freshman year wasn't very effecive.)

"so are you meeting her here?" i ask him again. "no... m'not. s'been eighteen years since i ever met her here. didning solo." "divorced?" i ask, once again, knowing the answer. "no, never married." he states. i muster up the most painful face i could fake successfully and ask "did she die?"

"no, don't worry. but she's just as gone." he says sadly. "tell me about her then." i suggest. "it's alright." he states, turning away. "c'mon. it's my birthday. i spent the whole day waiting for something more exciting than the chili cheese fries here." i tell him.

just then chuck comes into view with harry's 'usual' (chicken strips with a side of ketchup, ranch, and chili cheese fries.) "oh, and a cherry coke please." he tells chuck. "coming right up." says chuck from behind the counter. "cherry coke. me too." i tell him. "always been my favorite." he tells me. my heart ties itself into a knot. we have the same favorite.

"so it's your birthday then." he says. "seventeen." i tell him. "what's your name?" he asks. i contemplated telling him a fake name for no reason, but soon enough he'd see my nametag when i began working, so i decided against it. "elliot." do i tell him my last name? "elliot edwards." i add.

he studies my face intently. i didn't want to directly tell him he's my father before i had all of my questions answered just in case he bolted, but i didn't want to lie to him either. "and you are?" i ask. "harry. harry edwards." he states slowly. "creepy." i say slower than he said his name. he snaps out of his trance and chuck gives him his drink.

"do you by any chance have any birthday cake?" harry asks. chucks eyebrows scrunch up in return. "uh... there's half a red velvet in the back." he states. "we'll have two slices. it's on me." he tells chuck while keeping his eye contact on me. "thanks." i say once chuck leaves.

"who are you elliot edwards?" he asks me. "i'm me. what else do you wanna know?" i ask. "seventeen you said?" he questions. "yep. right on the dot." i confirm. "still live with your parents?" he asks. "yeah, with my mom. never knew my dad."

"mum?" he inquires. "elle. works at the hospital down the road." i tell him, fearing my cover would be blown if i told him her name was ellen and that i was adopted. "school?" senior year, public school." "university?" he asks. "early acceptance to columbia. partial scholarship." i tell him.

for a moment i pondered if he knew that i was his son, if he knew from the moment he layed eyes on me. maybe that's why he wanted to know about me and my future, because he cared. maybe that's why he's been so kind, and maybe that's why he didn't reject all of my questions. but it's not like i could ask.

or maybe thats secretly what i wanted. for him to know all along instead of me having to tell him. but at this moment, all i can say is that it's probably all in my head. but what i do know for sure is that harry, my dad, is sitting next to me smiling, and that my parents are a great example of cheesy, epic love, and that i am in awe of everything that has unfolded before me today.