The Setting Sun

The table of the corner café was set for three. The yolks of eggs atop untouched croque madames paled in color to the slowly rising sun. Peter sat alone, sipping coffee and staring into the brilliant sliver coming over the horizon. Time passed as he waited for his travel companions to arrive. Usually Madeline arrived first, only having to walk down to the café under their hotel. This gave the two of them some quality time before Jordan arrived. Jordan had forgotten to book a room in advance, and his room was several blocks away from where they ate breakfast. Plus he was perpetually late for everything. Not that it mattered, it was their last day in Toulon.

Peter alone to his thoughts, let his mind drift to all the romantic fantasies that he imagined materializing from the sidelong looks, heads resting on shoulders, and intense conversations he had shared with Madeline on this trip.

“Sorry we’re late,” a soft voice spoke, a hand touching Peter’s shoulder. He turned to see Madeline and Jordan standing above him. Madeline gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze before taking her seat.

Peter watched her as she sat, and she noticed, holding his gaze and smiling briefly before breaking the silence, “Did you sleep well last night?”

“Alright,” dark, swollen circles surrounded Peter’s eyes, “And Jordan, you made it to your hotel alright last night?”

Jordan glanced at Madeline, “Yes, I made it back eventually, but it was a long night. I don’t even remember how we ended up losing you. God my head hurts.”

Madeline stared at the display of food without desire, slumping forward in fatigue. She had a way of holding herself up by her shoulders, so that even when she leaned forward droopily, she exuded a presence of a quiet elegance. Her short, brown, hair was mangled, uncombed, as if she had just rolled out of bed.

Peter neglected to answer Jordan’s question, but raised a more pressing issue, “We missed our train,” Peter looked back and forth between his two friends.

“Well…uhh ya know, maybe it’s for the best,” Jordan stretched, arching his back, his arms stretched back over his chair. His outstretched hands almost knocked into the head of the woman sitting behind him.

“Well, actually, there isn’t another train until the day after tomorrow, and our flight back to the States leaves that morning, the train arrives later, that afternoon.”

There was a pause, Madeline and Peter considered their missed connection while Jordan noisily chewed a mouthful of his croque madame. He was eating with his hands and had bitten the corner of the liquid yolk, dribbling the sun colored substance onto his fingers and plate.

Peter looked away with disgust as Jordan licked the yolk from his fingers. He turned towards Madeline, “I came to your room to try to wake you for the train, but you didn’t get up. I banged on your door for a pretty long time.”

Madeline hesitated, opened her mouth to speak, glancing between Peter and Jordan.

Jordan interrupted before she had a chance to speak, “It’s not that bad that we missed our flight, all it means is that we’ll have a longer vacation. The three of us, we can go anywhere in Europe, we might as well stay here forever, we can visit every city—“

“We don’t have time. We don’t have money. We don’t have a train. We don’t have anything,” Peter sighed. Madeline looked up from her untouched food to meet Peter’s eyes. They held each other gaze, sorrow filling the space between them.

“I really am sorry about the train,” Madeline sounded sincere, seemingly asking for forgiveness.

“But really, do you guys really want to go back to the states, to college, to work? We can just keep doing what we’re doing here. When will we ever have a chance to do this again?”

Neither Peter nor Madeline responded as Jordan waited expectantly for an answer. He gave up on his answer, taking another bite of his sandwich.

Peter squinted at the sun, now a complete circle resting atop the ocean, “I’ve already inquired, there’s no other train except for the next train to Paris, we’re stuck here until then.”

Madeline tried to comfort him, “Come on Peter, it’s not that bad. Maybe something would happen if you were hopeful for once?”

The sun glinted off Madeline and Peter’s face, warming them. Jordan, his back to the rising sun, didn’t notice its presence as he crammed the rest of his yolk covered sandwich into his mouth.

Peter thought for a moment, staring into the sun. Usually he didn’t open up when Jordan was around, but it didn’t bother him as much now that they were at the end of their trip together, “I guess I’m hopeful, in so far as I’ve always equated hope with the great sadness of fruitless anticipation.”

Jordan huffed, his mouth full, “Jeeesus, please Peter, none of that depressing philosophical bullshit, we’re on vacation.”

Madeline stared at the untouched food on her and Peter’s plates. She was dazed and thoughtful, her eyes slightly glazed. The silence spread across the table like an egg cracked into a frying pan.

“I’m taking that next train to Paris and then I’m getting a flight back home, back to school,” Peter looked back and forth between his friends. Madeline nodded hesitantly.

Jordan addressed Peter, “We should stay,” He looked hopefully at Madeline, “I say we go to Italy and get pizza.”

Jordan rested his hand on Madeline’s thigh, “Come on, Maddy, don’t you want to eat the best pizza in the world?”

Peter’s eyes moved from Jordan’s hand, resting limply, up to the outfit Madeline wore. He had neglected to notice that she was wearing the same outfit as she had the night before. He closed his eyes resignedly.

“I’m going to the train station to get myself a ticket, I don’t have any hope left for this trip, no hope at all,” Peter picked up his fork for the first time, stabbing his egg, yolk sunlight spilling onto his plate. He stood up, his chair screeching across the cobblestones.

Madeline searched the blazing sky then addressed Peter hopefully, “We’ll at least with no hope that means you can’t be sad, right?”

Peter had turned and was walking away, “Whatever.”