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After about a year, waking up wasn’t a novelty anymore. Though he’d gone more than enough years without a lick of sleep to ever take it for granted. Especially on a day like today.
Joey sighed, readjusting the sheets around him. Red was still asleep, snoring softly, as per usual. He’d thought he’d find it irritating at first, but it was a reminder she was there. Even when it was too dark to see, or when he couldn’t feel her immediately. She was there. It meant more than he could ever tell her.
He couldn’t help but smile as he reached out, wrapping a lock of her hair around a finger. God, this never felt real. He’d stay like this forever if he could.
Though, he’d still better get up sooner than later. He had a lot to get together, after all.
It was a special day.
Well, for the guests at the lounge, anyway. The only thing he was doing any differently was putting on a red suit jacket instead of the usual black. Though to be fair, he thought he looked quite sharp in it.
Joey sat down at the piano, stretching out his fingers. Soon, the place would fill up with happy couples, and a few that weren’t so happy. They’d make chit-chat over wine and their meals. Maybe there’d be a proposal or two. Or a break-up or two. He’d play for them all, though. It was what he did.
And it wasn’t like he had anyone special to spend the day with. Not now, anyway. Not anymore.
He couldn’t help thinking about the woman he’d met a month back. The way she’d looked at him. All that love and heartbreak. All that life they’d shared that he couldn’t remember anymore.
The tables were nearly full now, heads turned his way in anticipation. Guess it was time. Joey took a deep breath, holding his hands over the keys.
Maybe this next song would be for her.
She probably came here too often.
Rosa squeezed a glove around the rose in her hand, running her thumb down the bumps on the stem. At least today she had an excuse to come, though it was pretty deserted in this part of the cemetery. Most of the graves were over a century old, with chipped, faded engravings that were hardly readable anymore. But even if this one was blank, she wouldn’t forget where it was. Not after that night.
Ugh. The cold always made her head hurt. But she wanted to be here. She had to be.
Rosa bent down, placing the rose in front of the headstone.
He was still alive, back in another time. Happy, she hoped. But this was for what they’d lost. For herself.
She stood back up, her lips turning up into a smile.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Joey.”
She was late.
Rosa ran down the street, trying to hide the card she’d bought inside her jacket so the rain wouldn’t get to it, a grocery bag in her other hand. It was already getting dark, and she was hardly the only one trying to get home at this hour. Or maybe they were going out.
She sighed, though with the speed she was walking, it was closer to a gasp of breath. They couldn’t afford to go out. At least not this year. But Joey wanted to do dinner anyway. Dinner she was late for.
Great.
Rosa pushed into the apartment building and then took the elevator up. Hopefully, he’d be okay with it. She’d never exactly done this before. Well. Rosa stopped at the front door, sighing. It was now or never.
Joey was lighting a few candles when she walked in, a stained apron still hanging from his shoulders. And, permeating the air, was...
“Oh my God, it smells amazing,” Rosa said, looking around. “Have you been cooking?”
“Oh,” he said, looking up in surprise. “You’re, uh…”
“…Late?”
He glanced down at his watch. “Huh. So you are. Guess it works out.” Joey shrugged off the apron, tossing it to the side. “Turns out, if you haven’t cooked in eighty-odd years, you forget how long it takes. Hope you’re in the mood for pizza.”
“Pizza?” Rosa walked over, putting the grocery bag down. “What you made didn’t turn out?”
Joey scoffed at the suggestion. “No, of course it turned out. All I got done was soup, though. I wanted to make sure we didn’t starve.”
“Thanks. I, um… I brought cake.” Rosa pulled out the slightly damp card in its envelope, holding it out. “And this.”
Raising an eyebrow, Joey took the envelope, pulling out the card. “‘Happy Birthday Grandma’?” he read off the cover.
“What?” Rosa’s eyes widened in horror. “No, that can’t-“
“I’m kidding,” he said, breaking into a grin. “Thank you. I, uh…” His expression faltered as he looked away.
“Joey.” She took his hand, and he squeezed back, tight.
“Come here,” he whispered, pulling her in.
He was warm and solid as she wrapped her arms around him, his shirt slightly onion-scented, face pressed up to hers.
“Happy Valentine’s, Red,” he murmured, breath warm against her ear. “I hope it’s the first of many.”