How She Was

"What do you mean you don't eat meat?"

"I don't know how to be any clearer than that."

She had a point. "Do you... do you eat fish?"

"Is that meat, Gary?"

"I mean, not... no, not really."

"It's flesh."

"It's sea meat, I guess."

"Which is meat."

"Kind of." Now her salad and her eye rolls and her pauses made all sorts of sense. "Jeez, Kay, I wish you had said something, I wouldn't've brought us here."

"It's fine."

"Since when do you not eat meat?"

"Since a long time, Gary. You haven't seen me in a long time."

It was true. I hadn't seen her in a long time, which is what prompted this whole thing. The day rolled around where, well, it was our anniversary, or not really but it was the anniversary of the first time I'd seen her. But I'd told her that story, about that day, she knew how important it was to me so I couldn't phone her then, I had to wait a while. I should've phoned sooner. But boy, I'll tell you, it was good to see her when I did. She walked into that smokehouse the way she always walked. Kay has this really auburn hair, I mean this sunset hair, this freckled skin and these dark eyes that too many people think are cold. I like them. They were mine once. She's got character, Kay, and I know people mostly mean that as a nice way of saying ugly but I don't mean that a bit. When you see her you really notice her, you're glad that different people look different, and she's one of those. God put his mark on her.

"So... how's tricks?"

"Do you mean work?" She knew I did. "Work's fine, it's been a little hectic since my promotion but—"

I stopped halfway through the rib. "You got the promotion?"

"You have sauce on your chin."

"I didn't know you got the promotion." She shifted her eyes, lifted her brows, shrugged in that I don't know what to tell you kind of way. Ooh, I remembered that. She would do that all the time. No, thank you. "Is it what you wanted? I mean I know you wanted the job, but is the job what you thought it would be?"

She prodded at her walnuts and gorgonzola or whatever the heck was on her plate. "It's fine."

"Well, you're just leading a fine life aren't you?"

"Gary—"

"Everything's fine. Everything's fine. Everything's fine, haha!" She gets real quiet when I do stuff like that. Or when I did stuff like that. Just sits there and stews at me. I was reverting back to my old habits, but so was she so I guess that made it even. Made it a clearer thing why we didn't stick together, at least in my mind. "Sorry," I said to her. "Sorry."

"It's fi..."

I smiled at her. "You can say it." She smiled back, and that was nice. "I just wanted so much to catch up with you, hear how things are going down your way. Details, you know? That's all. Maybe I'm not entitled to lots of details which is fi—haha, which is OK, but still. How are you?"

It felt like we passed the hump. I wiped my mouth and licked my thumb while she prepared her response. I saw there was more silver in her hair. She'd always had a strand or two, but I could see more now, at the roots. She was dying it. Thought I saw a little rash on her neck, too, but I could've been wrong about that. Kay, she just looked at me there, her little mouth almost shaking it seemed, like her tongue and teeth were doing all sorts of work behind the scenes. I wanted to tell her that it was OK to cry. I kind of was hoping she would tell me the same thing.

"Enough about me," she finally said, "I want to hear about you. How are you? How's the book?"

So I told her how things were going, that the general nature of things was pretty good, I felt like I was on the up-and-up. I was done with my book and had even gotten some parties interested in it, was meeting with one of them later on in the week in fact. She said she was happy for me.

I finished my half-slab, she ate a bit more of her salad. We never got back around to how she was, or why she stopped eating meat in the first place. People change, I suppose. Leaving that smokehouse all I knew is that she said she was fine. I'll have to go by that I guess. I shouldn't have waited as long as I did. I really shouldn't have.