by Swati MH
Dad leans against the doorframe. “No, I know we’re okay financially and I have you to thank for that, but I want to go back. I need it for my mental sanity. And hopefully, with the new treatment I’m getting for the Lupus, things will be better for me health wise.”
I get up and meet him at the doorway. Careful to not smudge my freshly painted nails, I wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head against his thin chest. “Sounds good, Dad.”
He squeezes me back. “You’re getting quite dolled up for this date. This guy must really be something.”
Something pinches inside my chest as I walk back to put away the nail kit I’d taken out of my closet. “He is,” I sing from my closet with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. Say it enough times and you’ll start to believe it. “He’s a really nice guy and knows exactly what he wants. He has his head on straight, you know?”
When I come back out holding a couple of dresses to try on, Dad is still standing by the door, studying me curiously. “That’s great that he has his head on straight, but does he make you lose yours?”
I squint at him. “What do you mean?”
Dad shifts from one foot to another. “I mean, let’s face it, Tinkerbell. In any relationship, you’ll probably be the one who is practical. You trust your gut, you trudge through all the scenarios, and you’re the most sensible person I know. Don’t worry about finding someone just like you or even someone you’ve drawn out on paper as your perfect match. Find someone who makes you feel like you’re drowning in the ocean or flying in the sky when your feet haven’t even left the ground. Find someone who makes you lose your mind.”
I stand there frozen, dresses still in my hands, gawking at my dad and trying to process everything he’s said. His words aren’t just sage advice--it’s an admission of his love for my mom. Only someone who has loved so deeply and felt so profoundly could put it into words so eloquently. I see a ripple of emotions wash over his face before he gives me a small nod and turns to walk back to the living room.
I stay affixed to my spot, staring at my empty doorway. What if I never conjure words so deep because nothing I’ve felt is strong enough to invoke them? What if I never find love that has me feeling like I’m flying?
I guess you can’t miss what you’ve never known.
12
Cassie
It’s unlike you to take risks when it comes to your romantic life, but as Venus and Jupiter create a love concoction in your fifth house of pleasure, you may feel emboldened enough to drift from your comfort zone.
I’m in yet another ritzy restaurant--an Asian cuisine eatery in the Gaslamp neighborhood--waiting for Major. He texted earlier saying something came up last-minute at work and he would be running a few minutes behind. I settle into my side of the booth and take a sip from my water glass. The restaurant almost has a spa-like ambience, with intentionally placed water features and soothing music. The dark red walls are adorned with soft-lit candles and colorful Asian art, creating an incredibly luxurious atmosphere.
My gaze lands on a couple sitting diagonally from my booth. The lady appears to be in her fifties and the man she’s with looks to be quite a bit younger, late thirties perhaps. While it’s not a pairing you see everyday, I notice how engrossed they are in each other, as if they’re sitting in their own private retreat instead of a busy fine-dining establishment. The man leans over and whispers something in her ear, inciting a visible flush over her and forcing me to avert my eyes to give them privacy. Find someone who makes you lose your mind. I bet he makes her lose her mind.
As I steal one more glance at them and the abandon in which they’re consumed with each other, a thought occurs to me, Love is impractical. It seeks anarchy and chaos in a world wanting to shackle it down with limits. That world could be this restaurant or within the confines of one’s mind. It yearns to be freed and expressed, through whispers, proclamations, and touch.
“You seem to be lost in thought.” I hear Major’s deep voice before I look up to see him.
“Oh, hi!” I exclaim, pulling out of my daze as he reaches down to kiss my cheek. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”
He sits across from me, taking up most of his side of the booth. He’s wearing a blue polo that makes his already vivid blue eyes appear even sharper. “A penny for your thoughts?”
I laugh. “No, they weren’t completely formed. Just a potpourri of words in my head.”
The waiter comes over to fill Major’s glass with water while Major continues to study me. “You look beautiful tonight. The mustard color looks really good on you.”
Heat seeps into my cheeks as I peer down my flowy dress and manage a small smile. “Thank you. I didn’t want to be underdressed this time. You look great as well.”
When the waiter asks us if we know what we want to drink, Major asks for a bottle of red wine I don’t recognize, but I interrupt, “Actually, can I get this vodka and lemongrass cocktail you have on the menu?”
Major gives me a tight smile before switching out the bottle of red wine to a glass for himself. “You’re an adventurous one, I see.”
As adventurous as one can be when ordering a cocktail.
“Their cocktail menu looks really good.”
When the waiter leaves to get our drinks, Major asks me about my week and I fill him in on my adventure with baby Jack.
“Thank goodness the other doctor was there to help you resuscitate the baby!” Major’s eyebrows rise to his hairline, listening to the shortened version of my day.
“I know, I would have been freaking out if I was the only one there.”
The waiter comes back with our drinks and asks us for our dinner order. Once we’ve finished ordering and he’s left, Major and I go back to our conversation. “Are your weeks usually that chaotic?”
“No. This one just happened to be a little crazier than most.”
“Well, that’s a relief. With my job being as hectic as it is running so many different restaurants, it would be hard for us to date if your career took up so much space in your life.”
Say what? Hold the press.
Who said my career didn’t take up space in my life? Biting the corner of my lip, I weigh out my response. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t think twice before responding with a firm retort. So why am I being any different with Major? Is it because I’m so determined to make this work that I disregard my own desires? How long can I keep that up?
In fact, I’ve been rather amiable and dare I say, compliant with Major thus far, keeping my sassy edge hidden below the surface. A complete opposite to the bold and smart-mouthed version I reserve for Vik.
Time to peel back the curtains.
“Just because my weeks aren’t always crazy doesn’t mean that my career takes up any less space. It’s actually quite a prominent part of my life.”
Major straightens, picking up the change in my tone. “Right. No, I understand that. But that’s just for now though, right?”
Huh?
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
Taking a sip from his wine glass and casually sitting back in his seat, Major’s icy blue pools collide with my heated ones. “I mean, do you plan on letting your career consume you even after you get married or are in a relationship?”
“Do you plan on it?”
“Well, yes, of course. I have an entire business to run.”
“Then why wouldn’t I?” Pressure rises behind my eyes in line with the tension rising between us. Just because he has a business to run doesn’t mean I’m not just as passionate about my career.
Major takes another sip of his wine before setting the glass down and fumbling with a napkin. “Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot tonight. I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous. Anyway, it’s too early for us to discuss these things. It’s only our second date, for crying out loud!”
At my non-response, he continues, “Cassie, I really like you and would love to get to know you better. Let’s change the topic,
huh? Tell me more about you growing up in San Diego. What was that like?”
Yes. Let’s.
I’m beginning to realize that Major is used to having a lot of control--from his restaurants to the meals we order, to even the conversations we have or don’t have. He doesn’t leave room for a lot of questions. That may work for him when it comes to managing his businesses, but what would a relationship with him be like? Would he dictate the clothes I wore or the friendships I maintained? Maybe he’s right, it is too early for us to discuss the topic of jobs and marriage.
Convincing myself to maintain composure and to let the comment slide for now, I respond, “It was like growing up in any other place, I assume. Both of my parents grew up here and I was born here, so I haven’t really known anything different. The greatest thing about it was that we lived close enough to the ocean for me to go to the beach often.”
“Yeah, I read on your profile that you love to surf. Have you had a chance to go recently?”
Do not think about the pink polka-dotted elephant. Don’t do it.
I run my tongue along the back of my teeth. “I went this morning, in fact.”
“Nice. Did you go on your own or with friends?”
That’s a tougher question to answer than he thinks. “Uh, a fr-- a person.”
Major laughs, releasing some of the tension between us. “Well, I’m glad you went with a person. That wasn’t meant to be a trick question.”
Our dinner arrives, thankfully relieving me from having to address the statement further. As we settle into the first course of the meal, Major tells me about some of the issues he’s had recently with getting permits for a bar he’s trying to open. “No matter how many restaurants I’ve opened before, it’s different each time. We’ll go to my Italian restaurant in Carlsbad next time. You’ll love it.”
I stir the wasabi into the small dish of soy sauce, telling myself that this is what I wanted--for him to take me to one of his restaurants. So why does it feel like another command he’s thrown out rather than a suggestion? “That sounds good,” I say simply.
“It’s the first restaurant my father established about ten--” Major looks down abruptly at his plate with a deep furrow between his brows and tightness in his jaw. “I asked for maki, but I think this is salmon.”
“Oh,” I hesitate. “Why don’t we just let the server know? I’m sure they can straighten it out.”
“Yes, well, I’m pretty aware we can do that.” Major turns his head to find our waiter and waves him over with little regard to the short retort he threw at me.
Can’t we have one meal in peace?
Hiding an eye roll, I glance at my phone to check the time and secretly wish I could be in my bed with these heels off. Picking it up, I swipe to check my text messages, knowing I don’t have a new one. My gaze lands on the last message from Vik and without too much thought, I fire off a message to him as the waiter makes his way to our table. Hope everything was okay with the ER call you had to make.
As soon as our waiter arrives, Major sears into him for getting his order wrong. Even though the waiter insists that they don’t have salmon on the menu, he takes Major’s plate and lets him know that he’ll be happy to have it remade.
“I don’t want it remade! I want the order I placed!” Major’s deep voice has a couple of other patrons looking our way, including the adorable couple I had noticed earlier. I’m sure they’re not thinking the same thing I had about them--he definitely does not make me feel like I’m flying. “I’d like to speak to your manager, immediately.”
Oh, God. Would this be the right time for me to have a bathroom emergency?
Before I can decide on how to react, I hear my phone buzz with a message from Vik. I almost jump to swipe it, wishing it to transform into a portal for me to jump into. Just got home. The consultation was fine, but a few more patients came in after that. Aren’t you supposed to be walking your German shepherd right now?
I almost giggle. Such an ass.
Erasing my smile, I respond back, barely listening to the argument between Major and the restaurant manager. If what you’re asking me is if I’m on a date with Major right now, then yes. I’m enjoying delicious sushi and a wonderful conversation.
Right. That’s abundantly clear.
I scoff at the undertone of sarcasm in his message. What is that supposed to mean?
You’re on a date right now, supposedly enjoying a great conversation, yet you’re texting me. Doesn’t sound like you’re enjoying that sushi or the conversation much.
My gaze flicks to a red-faced Major before I quickly reply. Always such a wiseass. For your information, Major went to the restroom so I thought I’d see if your emergency on-call went okay. Anyway, don’t you have an idiotic girl from your harem to enamor tonight?
“Sir, please consider your meal on the house. We truly apologize--”
My phone vibrates again in my hands. There’s only one girl I’d like to enamor right now. In fact, I’d like to do a lot more than enamor her . . ..
Biting my lip, I read the text again. My heart speeds up as my fingers work on their own accord. It’s too late to think about it as I press the send button. Who?
Shit. What am I doing?
My hands tremble as I lay them across my lap, grasping the phone. I’m playing with fire. I could end up scorched or worse, but I’m like a pyromaniac, unable to control my impulses.
What if he says it’s someone else?
What if he says it’s me?
Feeling my ears heat from anxiety--or maybe shame--I scoot out of the booth. Major looks at me expectantly, still in the middle of his conversation with the restaurant manager. “Uh . . . I need to use the ladies’ room.”
Standing in front of the mirror in the restroom, I try to face myself. “What has gotten into you?” I didn’t even have to use the restroom, so I just wash my hands and scan my phone again. No new messages. I’m such an idiot. How am I ever going to face him again?
I inhale deeply as I convince myself that he doesn’t know what I meant by my question. I could have just been curious about who he had in mind. He doesn’t know I want it to be me.
Wait, what?
Do I want it to be me?
Jesus. I need that vodka and lemongrass cocktail.
Walking back to the booth, I notice that Major is alone and scrolling through his phone. “Hey, did you get your meal sorted out?” I ask, scooting back into my seat.
He still looks distressed but gives me a smile nonetheless. “Yes, it’s fine. I ordered something different and the manager will pick up our bill.”
Twice in a row. Interesting. For a guy who can afford any meal, he sure knows how to get them for free.
“That’s good,” I respond, feeling my phone vibrate. Part of me fears looking at it ever again. “Excuse me a moment, I want to make sure this isn’t urgent.”
When I open the message from Vik, there’s an image of a bag of gummy worms, the same barbecue chips we had at the beach, and two cups with unopened bags of hot chocolate. Pretty sure I’ve left no room for interpretation. But if you need more clarification, I’ll be happy to oblige.
Under his message is an address.
13
Vik
I’m not a gambling man, but if I had to put my money on it, Cassie’s likely blocked my number by now. And if this situation was a camel, my last text certainly broke its back.
Damn it! Why can’t I quit her?
Things ended on a good note this morning. Sure, she was pissed at me for making fun of the asshole she was going on a date with, but come on! Can you blame me? His name is Major! His parents were basically asking for him to get jumped. I chuckle to myself imagining his last name as Douchebag.
Hello, I’m Major Douchebag.
It’s well past nine and almost an hour since I sent Cassie my last text. While I berate myself for being an idiot and pushing her beyond what I know to be her limits, I don’t exactly regret it, either. This cat-and-mouse
game has gone on far too long, and this cat is ready to feast.
It’s only when I’m finishing up some patient paperwork that I hear the faintest knock on my door. I would have missed it had the TV been on. With my heart jackhammering inside my chest, I walk over to the door and look through the peephole, hoping and praying for it to be the only person I want to see tonight. A head of silky brown hair greets me. Her hand nervously slides to her neck, like she’s standing outside a lion’s den.
She might as well be.
Trying my hardest to control the smile erupting on my face, I open the door in one swing, making her jump as if she was expecting someone else. “Hi.”
“Uh . . . hi. I’m . . .. I don’t really know what I’m--”
Before she can finish, I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her inside. Her breath hitches as her chest meets mine. Closing the door behind her with my other hand, I press her farther into me, taking her hand and placing it behind my neck. “I know exactly what I’m doing, so it’s okay if you don’t,” I whisper in her ear.
The sweet smell of her breath fans my face, giving me the faintest taste of what’s to come. Golden flecks dance in her eyes like glitter as they meet my heated gaze, a window into the inferno blazing inside of me. She’s unsure--hesitant--but she’s not running. She’s here. In my apartment. Like some sort of apparition I’ve conjured up. But hell if I’ll ever let her leave.
