Free I Knew You'd Be Lovely by Alethea Black Page B

Fridays, and Bandera was always crowded in a way that made him feel part of the throng rather than separate from it. Not that he would have minded being alone. By this point, the anticipation had escalated to a low-frequency ringing in his ears, and after a long day, he sometimes had difficulty understanding what people were saying.
    Tonight it was the opposite of when he’d come with Daphne. It seemed he couldn’t drink enough. He ordered a gimlet, then a vodka tonic, then a martini. He was hoping to discover the elixir that would clear his mind, sober him up. Nothing did. It was a mistake to have admitted to himself that he hated his work, and now that he had, he couldn’t take it back. He could see with painful clarity how he’d wound up in this predicament. He’d enjoyed the study of law, but the practice of law had less to do with John Rawls and more to do with filing BlueBacks. Law school had been the classic intellectual sanctuary from certain practical considerations. Then it had ended, and he’d needed to make a living. So here he was.
    When he was young, perhaps because of the premonitions,he’d wanted to be a magician. In a box somewhere in his mother’s attic there was even a photograph of him in a peach tuxedo, holding a black hat and a pack of cards, grinning. As a teenager, he’d told his secret ambition to his mother, a woman who lived as if she’d come of age in the Great Depression rather than the 1950s. “Dreamer,” she’d muttered, under her breath. But Felix had heard. Some mornings he wondered if he’d become a lawyer precisely because it was the least dreamlike thing he could be.
    There was Daphne. She was sitting at the other end of the bar, with what must have been her boyfriend, a surprisingly preppy-looking guy in a St. John’s lacrosse shirt. Felix rose and ambled toward her, sliding his glass along the polished brass countertop.
    â€œHello, Miss Edmunds,” he said. He could see the lacy outline of a black bra through her blouse. “And how are you this evening?”
    â€œBug off, buddy,” said the boyfriend.
    Felix was eager to correct the impression that he was a suitor. “We work together,” he said. He thought, but did not say:
I’m her boss
.
    â€œWhoop dee do,” said the boyfriend. Daphne was plucking a cherry off a toothpick with her dark fingernails. “Leave her alone,” he said. “You’re not her type.”
    Felix looked at Daphne. The minx lifted her shoulders and let them fall, as if to say:
You’re not; what can we do?
    Of all the—“Look, pal,” Felix said, straightening to his full height.
    The boyfriend laughed. “Look? Yeah? Look where?”
    Felix checked himself. It wasn’t worth it. None of it was worth it. He walked back to his stool and grabbed his coat, tapping his forehead in a quick salute.
    â€œSee you ’round,” he said.
    He was too drunk to drive, too agitated to sit still in a cab. So he decided to walk. As he swayed his way up the freeway on-ramp, he realized why no one walks in Los Angeles. All these drivers, swerving and honking, in a hurry and angry about it! It was as if they were all late for somewhere they didn’t want to be going in the first place. Why didn’t they just go somewhere better?
    Then it hit him. That’s what he would do. He would change his life. It wasn’t too late. He had money in the bank; Janet had a good job; he didn’t have to sit at a desk growing bitter like Daphne—clearly she was more bitter than he’d first imagined. He could switch careers, take a risk—he wouldn’t have to become a magician, but he could do something he enjoyed more than practicing law. Heck, at this point, almost anything would satisfy that criterion. He picked up his pace. He felt more surefooted. Maybe this thing wasn’t something that would happen
to
him so much as something he would