Alone Amongst Everyone

   Alone Amongst Everyone

   By Annie Littlewolf

Celeste scurried along, carefully picking her way through the dirt-packed ice and snow on the sidewalks. 

Everyone was hurrying, eager to get somewhere inside, out of the blistering cold, even if it meant into a crowded bar, or into the lobby of a hotel. Except for her. Celeste was alone; she was always alone. Even in a crowd, she was alone. Even with two people, she was alone. It was the way it was. She had accepted that. 

So she continued walking until she reached her bus stop. Climbing on, she paid her fare and found a seat near the back. A man was sitting there, with a wool coat on and a scarf around his neck, wool hat on his head - leather gloves and rubber boots. He said hello to her. She smiled wanly at him, and ducked her head. Not the time to start getting social. Not at 48 years old. A lifetime of being alone had taught her enough of how to do this. He said it again, as if he thought she had not heard him, so she got up and changed seats. She’d rather him think her rude or arrogant or something than make an attempt to be friendly - she just couldn’t. What does one say after “hello”? Was there some kind of small talk necessary? Or could she just leave it at that? She didn’t know and it was best to just not have to learn it on the fly. 

The bus sliced through the slush and snow easily enough, and finally arrived at her stop. She climbed down carefully, and to her horror, so did the man who had said hello to her. She quickly turned and headed towards her apartment only to hear him call out to her. 

“Ma’am?” 

She walked faster, risking slipping on the ice, rather than have to talk to someone. 

“Ma’am, please....,” he said, walking quickly behind her.

He had caught up to her. Oh dear. Oh no. 

Slowly she turned towards him. She kept her head down. 

It was New Year’s Eve, and Celeste never could understand all the big fuss. Parties, too much drinking, the COUNTDOWN. Dear Lord, spare me this nonsense; it happens every year, regularly, and it seemed a waste of time to her.

He spoke again. “Ma’am, it’s New Year’s Eve, and getting close to 11pm. I’m alone, and it seems like you are too. Would you like to accompany me to a small restaurant, perhaps for a drink - just to welcome in the New Year?”

Celeste spoke. “Thank you, but no. I prefer to be alone.” She turned and continued on her way.

“Ma’am, I’m asking as a favor to me - this is the first year I’ve been alone on New Year’s Eve, and I feel so terribly lonely. I can promise that if we just sit at a table, share something to eat, perhaps a drink and just talk, I will not bother you ever again. That’s all I am asking.”

Celeste kept walking, but slowed down a bit. Maybe this was God’s way of slicing through her own loneliness. She stopped and looked at him. He appeared a little older than her, was dressed nicely and didn‘t look like what she imagined a stalker would look like. Shaking her head to herself, wondering if she had lost her mind, she found herself saying “Okay - an hour together - and I pick the place, and that is the end of it. Those are my conditions.”

He smiled at her and introduced himself as Jackson Delaney. He asked her name and she obliged, Celeste Forrester. She forced a small smile on her face and they walked together until they saw a neon sign on a restaurant window.

She asked “how does this look?” And he answered that it looked just fine. He opened the door for her, and she entered. The place was full of good smells - onions cooking, something else with cinnamon; but the best part was that it looked very full, so she felt safer.

They were escorted to a table for two, and she unwrapped her coat and put it on the back of her chair - he did the same. When he removed his hat, she saw a full head of dark brown hair, a bit on the long side - and she watched as he removed his glasses to wipe off the fog on them. She found herself thinking that he was a very nice-looking man. He had a short beard and mustache, both touched with flecks of gray - so at least he was somewhere close to her age.

“So, do you want to tell me why you are alone this New Year’s Eve?” She asked, bluntly.

His eyebrows knitted together and his shoulders sagged just a bit. He lost his engaging smile. But he finally spoke.

“My wife asked for a divorce last year. I was taken completely by surprise, but she insisted, so we divorced. We had two daughters together, both grown now and on their own - and finally one of them told me the Big Why for the divorce. My wife worked in the film industry, here in New York, and she had begun an affair with one of the directors she worked with. I don’t know if she felt guilty about it, or rather just wanted to be with him, and my daughter didn’t know either. Each year, we made a point of celebrating New Year’s Eve in particular, because we married on January 2nd. And so, this is the first year I’ve been alone since graduating college and I just could not bear it. I keep wondering if I did something wrong or was this just totally her. I guess I’ll never know.”

Celeste was touched by his honesty. “I’m so sorry. Do your daughters live close enough to come keep you company?”

“No, they both live on the west coast now, and they have their own lives. Besides, I don’t want to burden them just because I feel so lonely, What about you? You’re alone tonight, also.”

“I’ve never been married, never even been in love. I’m used to being alone, and I hope it doesn‘t hurt your feelings for me to be honest, but I prefer to keep to myself. Too much pain out there, as you have made obvious. My parents have died, I have no siblings, so I am very used to being alone.”

She added, because she saw that he looked distressed, “But this is an unexpected thing for me, and to be truthful, it doesn’t feel bad.”

He smiled.

They ordered some appetizers, and a bottle of wine. And sat quietly across from each other as they nibbled and sipped. It grew a bit louder in the restaurant, and they realized it was getting near midnight. Jackson ordered two glasses of champagne and when the bells sounded, they clinked their glasses together, and said Happy New Year.

Celeste stood up to get her coat on, and he assisted her. He put on his own coat, hat and scarf, left some bills on the table, and when he turned around, she was gone. He went to the door and opened it, but didn’t see her anywhere.

She was gone. She had warned him. 

He caught the next bus and headed home. Maybe next year, he thought.