Elena
By Kenneth W. Anderson, Jr.

She stood in the kitchen entry, wanting him to notice her as he walked through the front door. Her black dress exposed her smooth sun-washed shoulders and the hem gently teased her long shaven legs. Her long thick black hair draped over on one side of her shoulder and she played nervously with the ends, her fingers twisting and twirling.  She pressed her red lips together. They were dry and her empty wine glass sat alone on the white linen table. She walked over to the window and parted the curtains.  The moon was low and as she opened the window doors, the cool evening breeze rushed in and embraced her dress, pressing the silk hard against her breasts.
Elena glanced at the clock on the wall.  Earlier in the day, wonderful anticipation had poured over her body.  Her thoughts had dived into a pool of watery kisses and deep caresses.  Now, in the dimly lit room, the thin hands of the clock slowly turned and doubt seeped into her heart, its roots tangling and twisting with each tick of the passing night. Her head turned towards the door and for a moment, her green eyes were lost in a trance, as if she were trying to will the door to open. Lapso meowed from the kitchen. He was hungry.
“My poor Lapso,” she sighed.
She walked over and picked up the fat feline. Lapso meowed again as Elena cuddle the cat to her face.
“He’s not coming,” she said to her faithful companion.
The cat brushed his face against her nose as Elena slowly walked over to the table and blew out the candles.
Several days later, Elena found a note pinned to her door. He wanted to meet her tonight at La Tortuga in the Plaza de Nuevo for dinner. He asked for her forgiveness and promised to explain.  She took a deep breath and opened the door of her apartment.  Lapso came running towards her, crying.
“Lapso, guess who’s not dead?” She said, still looking at the letter.
The cat brushed up against her legs. She walked over to a chair and sat down and the cat jumped up into her lap. His large eyes looked up at Elena, searching her face for an answer.
“Should I see him?” Elena asked.
Lapso meowed and Elena smiled at her poor little kitty.
“Yes, I know you are hungry. I am too.”
She stood up and lifted the cat into her arms, holding him close to her bosom, and turned towards the clock on the wall.  She still had time. The sun slowly began to fall from the sky and soon the sound of bath water rushed through walls and overwhelmed the small apartment.
The Plaza de Nuevo teemed with people.  Couples walked by, hand in hand, and the lights and the music floated above their heads. Elena made her way through the crowd and reached the café. She quickly spotted him, but before she could wave, he quickly walked over to her. Diego kissed her on the cheek. His kiss was cold and she could smell cigarettes.
“Come, come, sit here,” he said smiling.
He pulled out a chair. Elena took of her coat and looked around. Men and women sat close to each other, whispering, stealing glances, holding hands, touching faces.
“You hungry?” Diego asked as his hand shot up, snapping his fingers.
“Of course you are!” he continued before she could respond.
“The food here is excellent!
Elena noticed that there were two half-empty glasses on the table. She started to speak, but he quickly interrupted her.
“And you must be thirsty too!”
He grinned at her.
“A glass of wine or perhaps a beer?”
“Where were you?” Elena asked.
“I…,” Diego began to answer, but stopped as the waitress approached their table.
“The Senorita will have a margarita and I’ll have a beer,” he said.
The waitress nodded and started to walk away.
“Wait, no,” he quickly grabbed the girl’s hand. “Instead of the beer, bring me another Anise with lots of ice.”
He slowly let go of the girl’s hand and then glanced uneasily to Elena. 
“I love this place,” he said.
He turned his back to Elena and gestured towards the crowd.
“This place has so much life!  Did you know that Lorca and Picasso use to come here?  All the important people come here.”
“I’ve never been here,” said Elena.
Diego turned around and finally made eye contact with her.
“Really? Are you sure? I thought you’ve been here with me. Yes, last month, you and I sat here at this very table.”
“No, I would have remembered.”
There was a moment of silence between them.
“What happened to you?” she asked.
“I was called unexpectedly out of town, working.”
“I called your office and they said you took the week off,” she said.
Her eyes slowly began to search his entire face.  There were dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks were pale and he had not shaved.  The waitress returned with their drinks and Diego quickly grabbed the glass.
“I had a meeting with a client outside the office,” he said, taking a quick drink.
He motioned for her to take a drink too.
“And there was no phone?” She asked, ignoring his gesture.
“Que va! Am I on trial here?”
“No, I just thought you would call,” Elena replied softly.
He took another drink and then set the glass aside and reached out for her hand.  Elena quickly pulled away.  She stared at the glass in front of her. Drops of water had started to form on the outside and a single drop quickly raced down the side of the glass.   
“We agreed to take things real slow, right?”
It was more like a statement to her than a question.
“And to be understanding of each other’s time commitments.”
Elena turned uncomfortably in her chair and her hands fell into her lap. She began to press out a wrinkle in her dress with long deliberate strokes.
“Listen,” he continued. “I told you from the very beginning, that at times, I’m very busy.”
“Yes,” she replied, now looking down at the floor.
She noticed a small black smear on her white high-heels.
“I’ve got a very demanding job, and finally I have the chance to make a lot of money.”
“I just thought…,” Elena began, but the rest of the words were lost in her dry throat.
“I promise it isn’t going to be like this all the time,” he said.
Another waitress walked past and Elena looked up and caught Diego’s eyes momentarily follow the young woman.
“Things will eventually change,” he said, quickly smiling at her. “Trust me.”
Diego’s thin voice echoed in Elena’s ear. She stared at him and let her thoughts wander out of the café. She returned to the previous evening:  lying alone in her bed, her cold body trying to find warmth in the blankets and Lapso stretching and pulling before finally settling next to her feet.  Her dark bedroom was quiet, but outside she could hear the gentle tap, tap, taping of rain, and in the restless distance, the faint sounds of music and a woman’s laughter.