“What can I get you?” the bartender of Rendezvous asks as I flop down on one of the stools.
“Jus-st a Black R-Russian.”
“You don’t look like you’re here to drown your sorrows in booze,” she says, placing the faceted glass before me.
I shake my head.
I’m taking the first sip and thinking about Vienna when the bartender re-emerges with a newspaper in her hand.
“What’s your birthday, buddy?”
“W-why?”
“Because I’m going to read you your horoscope.”
“Those th-things aren’t tr-rue.”
“What is truth, anyway?” She shrugs. “It’s all about belief. You believe a man is God and he is. So, when is your birthday?”
And I tell her the date just so she’ll let me have my one drink in peace.
But today I’m not that lucky.
The bartender reads, “You’re going to find your soul mate today. Don’t let them go, as these people rarely come in your life.”
I pause the glass close to my lips, and instead of drinking it, I place it down. “Wh-what did you s-say?”
“Did you meet your soul mate today?” She grins.
“I d-didn’t jus-st meet anyone. I fucking pr-roposed to s-someone.”
This lady has some kind of magical power of pulling words out of my mouth. She arches an eyebrow, urging me to say more, but she doesn’t know I hate speaking. I have already said too much.
“The stars are in your favor, kid.” Her hand fiddles with a four-leaf clover necklace around her neck. “Whether or not you want to grab the chance is up to you. It’s humans who make this horoscope a truth or lie.” She taps on the newspaper a few more times before thankfully leaving me in peace.
Throughout the entire drive to my home, the bartender’s words ring in my ears, her clover pendant flashing before my eyes.
Is this some kind of sign? Since when did I start believing in all this nonsense?
I drive past Zander’s home. There’s a faint light shimmering in the gazebo of their fairy-tale estate. They must be having a romantic dinner. As Rose is the epitome of an introvert, my brother would have brought in all the bells and whistles, possibly including a fine pianist, the best Italian, and flowers from their own garden.
Mixed feelings of happiness for my brother and the anguish that I’ll never experience the same love bombard me.
I finally park outside my cabin.
I stumbled across this beauty one evening while strolling in the woods near by Zander’s estate. It was nestled among the trees, and the sunlight filtering through the clouds made it shine somehow. My insides were filled with a childlike giddiness of finding some hidden treasure, and the tranquility of the place spoke to me. It was as if I could feel its heartbeat and it drew me in.
I wasted no time in contacting the real estate agent, Henry. When he told me the name of this place, Hermit’s Paradise, I was hit by a bittersweet feeling.
As apt as it is for me, I’m not a hermit by fucking choice. When you live under the shadow of two perfect older brothers, your imperfections shine much brighter.
My brothers are the real businessmen, and it’s because of them our company stands. I’m just a guy with a medical degree who goes into the technical nitty gritty. I’m certainly not an irreplaceable part of our company like them.
I clench my fists around the steering wheel, then pull my phone out from my jacket. I quickly skim through my emails. My brothers don’t know that I’m the emergency contact to put out any fires that may arise in our business. If I can’t lead, I want to at least be the good soldier who holds down the fort from the sidelines.
Thankfully, nothing has happened in the past hours. I finally get out of the car and clomp toward the deck.
My mood is much darker than before as I flop down on the patio couch, with no desire of going inside. I grab one of the water bottles from the table and gulp down half of it. Finally, my head hits the cushioned back. My thoughts, which have been intermittently drifting to Vienna, now fully focus on her without traffic or disturbing bartenders to distract me.