I feel so far removed from that person on the cover, and buying this copy feels like an act of defiance. That maybe somehow I am still her, the woman on the cover. I finished mourning Andy a long time ago, but I never stopped mourning myself.
I look up, and see Dean just a few paces away from me, thumbing through jazz albums. He has a record tucked in the crook of his elbow. I walk over to him, holding the album out for him to see.
“Want to know a secret?” I ask.
“What?” His voice is gentle and soft, not rushed and harsh like it usually is.
“That’s me.” I point to the picture.
“It looks just like the back of your head.” Dean’s face breaks out into a grin, certainly because it’s painfully obvious it’s me in the photo to him. The smile lines on his face are generous and worn in, and they make him seem more human than I ever thought possible.
“There used to be so much drama online about who this photo was of. It was me the whole time.”
“I’m sure.” Dean looks back to the jazz albums.
“It was on my wedding day,” I tell him, and that gets his attention.
“How does that make you feel?” Dean asks.
“It makes me feel exposed.” I admit. “Knowing that a million people have seen this picture. But I told Andy he could use it.”
“How doesthatmake you feel?” Dean breaks into a smile again, pulling out a Frank Sinatra album.
“Hey, now. You’re not my therapist,” I laugh, tucking my album under my arm.
“But I could be,” Dean offers, holding out his own album for me to look at.
“I don’t think so.” I take the album from him, looking at a dazzling Frank Sinatra, complete with fedora hat. “Is this what you’re getting?” I ask, handing it back to him.
“I think so. Are you getting that?” Dean asks me.
“I think so,” I nod. “It’s a gift from me to you.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
We make our way to the checkout counter, and I pay for both of the records as Dean promises to buy me coffee afterwards at the shop next door. While Dean waits by the door, Ronnie places the records in separate paper bags and hands me both with the receipt. I thank him kindly. Dean goes to feed the parking meter while I go next door and order two cafe au laits.
I know I shouldn’t drink too much coffee—it always makes my chest hurt and my anxiety worse, but I’m craving something bitter. I sip on it slowly as if it’ll make a difference. I watch Dean come into the shop, looking around for me, and when he spots me, his face lights up.
Any Man Who Is Not Afraid by Andy McKinney
She never did learn to
program her computer
She wasn't any handier with
the TV remote
She was sure she'd been an alien in another life and she had been waiting for her calling for years
There was no time to waste,
the future was short
She had a flair for endorsements
and appearances. She excused herself and demanded cash
