Isabelle

Harrison sat quietly in the dimly lit bedroom. Legs crossed, cigarette tenuously suspended by two fingers over the arm of his recliner, he stared straight ahead, deep in thought. Smoke tingled his nostrils and weaved its way through the dull air like a charmed snake. His eyes were fixed on the flickering flame of the candle on the distant end table, but his thoughts were fixed on her. Where had she gone? How long had it been since he last saw her, since he last smelled her raven locks, since he last felt her head nestled near his heart? Since she left, the days ran together, indiscernible. Every meal tasted bland, and every song was in a minor key.

She had no reason to leave, he thought. All her needs were met. His hands were always gentle. His affection for her was immense. Her devotion was clear and true. Each day she saw him was as bright and new as the first. The more he tried to reason these things, the deeper he fell into depression.
Lifting his head, he stood and stretched. Perhaps the company of others would ease the pain of his loss. He removed his overcoat from the rack and headed out the door.

Harrison found himself in a dimly lit bar. A light dangled lazily above each worn wooden table. The upholstery was faded and wrinkled. He could make out the sound of squeaking tennis shoes on a basketball court coming from a television mounted high in the corner.

A three-piece jazz band played softly on the other side of the room. The oaken bar had a glossy finish, with a tarnished brass fixture bolted to the front of it. He ordered his usual rum and Coke, feeling no inspiration to try something new.

There were as few patrons as one would expect at seven-thirty on a Thursday evening. Two young men and what appeared to be their dates, all dressed in jeans and T-shirts, hovered around an old pool table. They gave occasional hoots and wails as the balls clacked against each other. A handful of young professionals in casual business attire sat at the opposite end of the bar, muttering and chuckling softly as they drank shots and martinis. A lone middle-aged man swirled his drink, pretending to pay attention to the game that was playing overhead. The bartender quietly wiped down the bar and cleaned a few glasses, waiting for his shift to end.

All this mildly amused Harrison, but not enough for him to introduce himself to anyone. He didn’t think that anything was wrong or distasteful about anyone in the room - he just didn’t feel like socializing. But wasn’t that the point of going out in the first place?

As he sat staring at his glass contemplating his own heartbreak, the tinny ding of the door diverted his attention. At the entrance of the bar stood a woman draped in a damp, black overcoat, shaking the rain off her umbrella. As she gently brushed strands of wet black hair from her cheeks, Harrison could see her stylish red dress framing her shapely legs. She approached the bar, sat down next to him, and removed her overcoat. Throwing her crossed arms on the bar, she pouted playfully, mocking his sullen demeanor. Harrison forced a small smile, acknowledging her irresistible charm.

“Why so glum, chum?” she asked, her head swaying to the gentle sounds of the jazz trio.
“Just felt like getting out. It’s a little too quiet at home.”

“Oh? I thought Isabelle kept you pretty busy. I figured that’s why you stopped coming here.”
“She left last week.”

“What?! I thought you were gonna be together forever. Do you have any idea where she could have gone?”

“I have no idea where or why, really. That just goes to show - you don’t really know what you have until it’s gone. The apartment feels so empty now.”

“Yeah, I bet. Still, eight years was a good run, dontcha think?”

“Sure. It was a good run.” Harrison lowered his eyes at the thought.
“Is that why you asked me to meet you here? I could’ve met you at your place.” Cynthia’s warm brown eyes sparkled as she spoke.

“No. The place still smells like her. That would just feel wrong.”
“I see. Well, y’know. They have powders and sprays that can get rid of that.” As she waved her hand, the sweet smell of her perfume tickled Harrison’s nostrils.

“That’s not funny. I get the feeling that you never liked her much. Is that true?”

“Of course not. I liked her, and I know how much she meant to you. I have to admit, though, I may have been a little jealous at times at the attention you gave her.”

“I tried to give you equal attention. I never meant to ignore either one of you. I love you both, just in different ways.”

“It’s cool. I kinda liked being ‘the other woman’. It felt dangerous.” she joked.

“What makes you think you were ‘the other woman’?”

“Oh, come on. She was a part of your life long before I was.”

Harrison looked at her skeptically, and thought for a moment. Perhaps he had been feeling sorry for himself for too long. Perhaps, he thought, it was time to let go. Besides, it was likely that Isabelle would not return. He didn’t want to betray the memory of his lost love, but couldn’t ignore the opportunity sitting before him. With a sigh of resolve, he lifted his head and turned to the beautiful woman wanting his attention. “Hey, whatduya say we get outta here?”

They stepped outside and walked slowly down the street. The rain had stopped, and the street glistened in the moonlight. Trees dropped the last remaining raindrops they had collected overhead. The air was fresh and new. Finally, Harrison felt a sense of serenity. He tightened his grip on Cynthia’s hand, as she put her head on his shoulder.

In the distance, the faint silhouette of a dog came into view. Backlit by the full moon, the silhouette skulked around a nearby tree and sat for a moment. Then, upon seeing Harrison and his companion, the dog charged toward them. Harrison didn’t know what to think. He instinctively stood in front of Cynthia to protect her from the assailant. Harrison stood still. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The dog leaped at him, nearly knocking him over. Its face illuminated by the streetlight was dark and slick. Its coat was frizzy from the rain. Its tail wagged frantically.

“Isabelle! You crazy girl! Where have you been?” Harrison was so relieved that his black Labrador had come back. He cupped her ears in his hands and petted her intensely.

“Great, my competition has returned,” Cynthia joked and rolled her eyes.

“Ha ha. You know you’re my number one girl, Cynthia. I’ll always love you.”

“I know, hon. I’m just teasing. I’m glad she's back. But seriously, we need to do something about that smell.”

“Oh, I know. She’s definitely getting a bath tonight. No telling where she’s been.”

The trio continued leisurely down the street, Isabelle prancing gleefully, sticking close to her master. Cynthia once again rested her head on Harrison’s shoulder.

“I think it’s your turn to pick the movie tonight, babe,” said Cynthia.
They turned into the stoop at the apartment complex’s entrance. Isabelle shook herself off, as Harrison opened the door for both of them.