Cleopatra and Frankenstein(89)

“Where have you been, hombre?”

Lying on the ground, where Thor had clearly discarded it in favor of the more entertaining plaything of a prostrate Santiago, he spotted the pulpy green form of a half-masticated lizard.

Santiago took his time burying the lizard under a pile of sage and brush, placing a single white flower on top of the small heap. Luckily, Thor was so intrigued by this behavior that he stayed close underfoot. Clouds were darkening the sky when he did make his way down, the puppy squirming in his arm. He reached the bottom of the trail to find Anders leaning against the car with his shoulders slumped, his entire body deflated. At the sound of their approach, he jerked his head up and met Santiago’s gaze. Then he did something Santiago could have never expected. He burst into tears. The dog sprang out of his arms and raced over to Anders with a bark of delight. Anders dropped to his knees and buried his face in the golden fur.



Anders did not move to turn on the engine as they sat side by side in the dark car. Thor, finally tired out, was curled in the shape of a croissant on the back seat, snoring softly.

“I love her,” Anders said quietly. “I know I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Santiago nodded slowly.

“Maybe you just think you love her because she’s the one person you can’t have?”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t feel like that.”

“Cleo’s a special person,” he agreed. “But she’s not the woman for you.”

“But what if she is?”

“She’s not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because if she was, she wouldn’t be married to Frank.”

“What should I do then? What would you do if you were me?”

“Let her go. She needs to heal. So does Frank. He can’t take more pain right now. You know he was the one that found her?”

“Jesus. He did? Is he okay?”

“He won’t be better if you come and declare love for his wife. Pretend it didn’t happen. Let them both move on, whatever that means for them.”

“I just want to talk to her.”

“I know, man, I know. Talk to me.”

Anders rubbed his eyes roughly with the back of his knuckle. “Do you think she really wanted to die?”

“She told me she wanted change.”

Anders exhaled heavily. “What a way to go about it.”

“She’s young. Remember when we were twenty-five? The things we did? We were loco.”

Anders traced the wheel with the flat of his hand. “I get wanting things to change. Why do you think I’m in this insane town?”

“I thought you loved LA!”

“I don’t hate it. It’s just … I’ve been asked if I need a shaman recommendation like three times since I moved here, man.”

Santiago sighed. It was true. People in LA took spiritual smugness to a new level.

“What about Yaayaa?” he asked.

“Yaayaa?” Anders snorted. “She just wants me to put her kaftans in the magazine.”

“I’m sure that’s not—”

“You know all those models fuck each other, right?” he continued. “They don’t really want a man around.” He exhaled. “Unless they need to borrow a big car.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

Both men began to laugh. Anders turned in his seat so he was facing Santiago straight on.

“And what about you?” he asked. “What’s going on? I thought you might hit me back there. Not just because of Cleo.”

“I’m changing, man.”

“I see that.”

“All this time, you treat me like I’m just the—” It pained him to say the word aloud, but he must. “The fat friend. The sidekick. But I have feelings. I feel a lot.”

“Nobody sees you like that, Santiago. Except, maybe, you.”

“Don’t tell me it’s in my head. I know what you all think about me.”

“That’s what you’ve been saying to yourself all these years? Wake up, man! You’re so successful. Everyone’s raving about your restaurant. And you’re charming, you’re deep. Yaayaa wouldn’t stop talking about how thoughtful you were. It pissed me off, honestly.”

“Yeah, I’m the guy women like to talk to, but that’s it. They don’t see me as a lover.”

“Well, do you ever ask anyone out?”

Santiago had to concede that he did not. He had been with women, but the last time he had been in love was with Lila. He was a young man then, sixty pounds lighter. Lighter in every way.

Anders searched his face with unusual tenderness. “You know I miss her too, right?”

Santiago nodded.

“In truth,” Santiago said, “I am afraid.”

“No shit. We’re all afraid.”

“You’re not. You’re the donjuán.”

“Oh yeah, I’m doing great. Forty-five. Unmarried. In love with my best friend’s wife. You didn’t even want to stay with me.”

“That’s not true.” Santiago shifted in his seat. He hated to lie.

“It’s okay, I get it. The worst part is, Jonah won’t come. I sent him a ticket and everything.”