By Tess Callahan
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Extra info for April & Oliver
She blinks. ” April shifts in her seat, feeling heat behind her eyes. “Let’s eat,” she says. ” Patterns of cold cuts, neatly arranged on doilies, adorn the table in the family room. April ignores the sandwiches and pastries but eats the olives one by one, spearing them with a toothpick until the bowl is empty. Beside her, Oliver spreads mustard on a roll as Bernadette arranges a dainty salad on her plate. April feels Oliver’s eyes on her but doesn’t look up. She’s not afraid of breaking down anymore.
I’ll see if I can’t scrounge up an extra ticket for the season opener. ” April doesn’t feel she can promise anything at the moment, nor imagine herself paying attention to basketball. ” He kisses her, on the lips as usual. It’s not a sexual thing exactly, more like a provocation. The ash on his breath stirs her craving for a cigarette. “Try not to break too many hearts on the road,” she says. He smirks and trots down the deck stairs. She can leave, too, she thinks. Just slip away without saying good-bye, Al-style.
He remembers one of her visits. He doesn’t know why it comes to him now, inside the tunnel. The studio was dark except for a single light illuminating a maze of sheet music scrawled in faint pencil, notes so quick and urgent they were indecipherable to anyone but him. His fingers ached from hours of playing, but he didn’t stop. The composition was all but there when he heard the click of the door. He didn’t know what time it was, only that she was late. It was always that way. The songs came in the pressured moments of waiting, his hands straining to keep pace with his mind.
April & Oliver by Tess Callahan