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Quarantine Romance: Multicultural Romance During a Pandemic

Page 7

by L. P. Guleva


  Shit. “What happened?”

  “Nothing special. He turned out to be married. I found out when his wife walked in on us.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. He tried the whole ‘we’re getting a divorce’ thing, but I guess I’m not romantic enough to think my first is special.”

  “Sounds familiar,” I said. “Except I was the wife. I mean the husband. I mean the boyfriend.” Damn it. My brain must’ve lost a few cells from all that bleach. “I walked in on my girlfriend giving some dude a blowjob. Ex-girlfriend now. Her excuse was that every man wants an open relationship.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Nah. It’s fine. I like the upgrade I got. I don’t know what I was thinking, not meeting you sooner.”

  Zamira sighed, her smell coating me in a cloud of comfort. A hint of jasmine and roses. “Yeah. Would’ve been nice if we’d met sooner.”

  She must’ve been thinking about the two-timing asshole. I flexed my chest muscle, drawing her attention back to the here and now.

  “It’ll be easier to feel me up if I’m shirtless. Want me to take my shirt off?”

  Zamira blushed. “No. Sorry.” And moved her hand to my shoulder. Then off of me entirely. “You must think I’m stupid.”

  “You speak a gazillion languages, and you beat me in every board game. Pretty sure you’re the smart one in this relationship.” And the hot one. My balls started to ache.

  “I’m not people smart. More like people dumb. We just moved in together, and I’m all…” She gestured vaguely, then dropped her hand.

  “You wanted a separate bedroom for a reason.” Damn it. I didn’t even know what was about to come out of my mouth, and I already hated it. “If you want me to back off, I will.” Yeah, dumbest thing I ever said.

  “Maybe just a little. For now.” She snuggled closer. “I like how affectionate you are, but I don’t know if I want to go further yet.” Her hand moved oh so slowly from my chest to my shoulder until she jerked it away. “You’re supposed to tell me to behave myself.”

  “You have a very high opinion of me. I’m not a saint.”

  “Neither am I,” she mumbled as she pulled away a few inches and turned onto her back.

  “You don’t have to be.” Great. Now I was definitely being an asshole. “Nothing wrong with going for what you want.” Except when I was told to back off already. My mouth didn’t care.

  “Maybe.” She stared at the tent’s ceiling. An outline of the moon imprinted on the fabric.

  “Are people in your country super conservative?” I asked.

  “Some are. We’re a melting pot.”

  Interesting. Kinda made sense, too. “Your ex is still an asshole.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t even care about it anymore. If some of my family members found out, they’d care, but I got over it pretty quickly. He’s not worth my thoughts.”

  “Agreed.” Look at that. Talking about that dickhead finally killed my erection. “I don’t have to back off too much, right?”

  “Just a little.”

  I could do a little. Probably. “We need to clear out the bedrooms tomorrow.”

  “Want to watch another movie tonight?”

  Did I want her pressed up against me, grabbing my arm every couple of minutes? “How about Hellraizer?”

  Chapter 15

  Zamira

  “WHY DO WE HAVE to go up there?” I eyed the door at the top of the staircase.

  “Because we have to check for leaks. Come on, what’s the worst thing we can find there?”

  “You’re asking me that after watching Hellraiser last night?”

  Matt smirked and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’d say that I’ll protect you from demons, but after seeing what you can do with your purse, I think I’ll have to protect demons from you.”

  I sighed and climbed the stairs. Would’ve helped if we had watched Narnia instead.

  Matt went in first and turned the light on, if it could even be called that. Just one dusty lightbulb for the entire attic. With boxes casting shadows all around us, we could be surrounded by an army of mice, spiders, and demons. Or we might have a Pinhead inside a box. Definitely needed to never watch horror movies again.

  “Matt, did you know we had Pinhead in the attic?”

  He turned to look at the half-opened box with comics I pointed out. Of all the stories that could’ve been here, why did it have to be this one?

  “Holy shit.” Matt picked through the books. “That’s all six of them. I wonder how much they cost these days.” He handed me a giant flashlight. “We’ll look at them later. Shine on the ceiling for me as I go.”

  I followed him through the clatter, starting in one corner, then slowly moving down. The weathered wooden boards above our heads looked a couple of centuries old.

  “This one is soft.” Matt pushed the thick, dark part, and it crumbled. “Yeah. Very soft. I have to sister it.”

  He inspected higher up, moving toward the peak of the roof, then around the vent.

  “You think that’s where it’s coming from?” I asked.

  “Looks like it. I’ll need to get up on the roof to know for sure.”

  I dragged a ladder to the door and stopped. “You’re not gonna fall off, right? Because I’d rather hire someone if you plan on falling.”

  Matt took the aluminum monstrosity from me. “I won’t fall, and I learned a little about fixing houses from my dad. Funny thing, both my parents made good money, but we never had enough to hire someone to fix our house.”

  “New York is expensive.”

  Matt walked downstairs with the ladder balanced on his shoulder and mumbled something about expensive kids.

  “I know diapers can get expensive, but it can’t be that bad.” I followed him outside.

  “Diapers are just the beginning. My brother is an asshole. Back when we were little, he always wanted autographed hats, balls, you name it. He’d guilt my dad into buying whatever he wanted, and dad went along because he worked crazy hours, so he felt bad for not spending time with us. Then the stealing started.”

  Matt unfolded the ladder, moved it around until it stopped wobbling, then told me to hold it. I gripped the cold metal as he climbed. My mind spun.

  I hadn’t even known Matt had a brother until today. All the evenings we had spent video chatting, and I knew nothing about him. No, that wasn’t true. I knew what he thought about art, literature, people. I knew that he was awful at backgammon.

  “Matt?” I shouted. “You never killed anyone, right?”

  He turned on the roof until he straddled the peak and could look down at me. “No. Why?”

  “Just making sure.”

  Too late to question my decision anyway. I was here.

  “Actually, I have killed spiders before. You know how you’re supposed to let them be because they are natural pest control? Load of crap. My dad let them live in the basement, and we still got termites.”

  “Your poor mom.”

  He grinned and disappeared again. A couple of pebbles rolled off the roof and down the gutter. Matt was fine. He won’t fall.

  “Matt?” Nothing. “Can I get you a rope or something to tie you to the chimney?”

  Finally, he got back on the ladder and started climbing down.

  “Thank God, you’re okay.” I held on to the ladder for dear life until he was back on the ground.

  “I’m good, but our roof needs a miracle.”

  “I figured.”

  At least we were in it together. Although why Matt wanted me here was a mystery. He knew me about as well as I knew him.

  “So, what now?” I asked.

  “Wanna go shopping together? Cleaning sucks. We can both use a break from it.”

  “I wanted to clear out at least one more room and wash some of the clothes. And, you know, pandemic.”

  He reached for my cheek but stopped a fraction of an inch short of touching. “I have to wash my hands.”

 
; I got on my tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss. “Look at you, being all responsible.”

  “I’m as clean as a dumpster.”

  He went inside. I probably should clean up too, but the warm sun begged me to stay. The crisp morning air pricked my skin. Just like back home.

  How many days had it been since the last time I had called my parents? Must’ve been more than a week. I needed to call and tell them I was still in Brooklyn.

  “Everything okay?” Matt came over and sandwiched me between the wall and his hard chest.

  “Yes.” Hopefully. “I just don’t understand why we’re both here. We barely know each other.”

  “Because it feels right.” He gave me a long, deep kiss, making my doubts disappear again.

  “You’re dangerous.”

  He pulled away, shocked. “I’m an angel.”

  “To my sanity, I mean. Logically, I know I shouldn’t be here with a guy I only talked to a few times over the phone. It’s insane. But it also feels right.”

  “Logic is overrated. Never use logic.”

  I laughed and pushed him away. “You’re impossible.”

  “I’m only half joking. I gave up on thinking things through a long time ago. The gut reaction is usually the right one. If I start thinking too hard, I find all the reasons why I shouldn’t listen to my gut, and that’s when I make mistakes.”

  “And asking me to come out here with you was your gut reaction?”

  He nodded. “We fit.”

  “But we’re different. You said it yourself, I’m a small town, and you’re a city.”

  “Two puzzle pieces are different too, but they still fit together.” He hugged me again and kissed my forehead. “Now, stop thinking and tell me what you want me to pick up. I need to go to a hardware store.”

  “I have everything.”

  I brought his face down and kissed him again. He was right. Screw logic.

  Chapter 16

  Matt

  I PARKED MY CAR and pulled out my phone. This house might end up costing me more than an apartment in New York. The roof wouldn’t survive the winter unless I did something about it. What kind of fixes could I afford?

  My bank account info loaded with all the speed of a morning traffic jam. Finally, the number popped up. Two grand. Thank fucking God state unemployment went through. Sure, it was less than half of what I usually made, but it was something. I could buy food and pay bills and fix the damn roof before it collapsed.

  Good thing Zamira didn’t climb up with me. She would’ve killed me for dragging her out here.

  My phone dinged with an email notification.

  Hi. We spoke a while ago about a storyboard. Can you do it for $20 per page? That’s the price I got from another artist, but I like your style better. You can get exposure from it too since I’ll be entering a lot of competitions.

  Seriously? Why not ask me to work for free? This was below minimum wage even by the federal standards.

  I turned my phone off and went to the lumberyard. Two by fours waited for me right at the door. A little further were sheets of plywood. That would be enough to sister the damaged boards, except none of it would fit in my car.

  With a few items picked out, I came to the register. “Do you guys sell roofing cement?”

  “Yeah. Aisle four.”

  “Thanks. Any chance I can get these cut here?”

  The guy paged another employee to help me operate the giant saw. It only took a couple of minutes and didn’t cost me anything extra. Best part, it would fit in the trunk now.

  I got a couple of buckets of the cheapest and the least permanent solution to the leak. As long as I at least patched up the damage, it would give me time to figure out how to get the money for the real fix.

  The guy at the register rang me up while the door next to us kept sliding open to let more customers in. I wasn’t the only idiot unable to stay home.

  “You got some crazy discounts today?” I asked.

  “Nah. It’s been busy since the lockdown. Everyone is home with their unemployment checks.” He scanned the last piece of plywood and returned to stand behind the register. Everyone except me. I have to risk getting sick, and I get paid less than everyone who’s on unemployment. Go figure.”

  I glanced at the red numbers that popped up on the screen. Almost five hundred bucks. Damn. That was state unemployment for two weeks. “Hope you stay safe.”

  That twenty bucks a page didn’t sound so bad anymore. Except it would kill all my free time, and I needed to fix the house.

  I loaded everything in the car and opened the email again.

  Sorry, but I can’t do it for anything less than $50.

  Sent. Couldn’t take it back, and I wasn’t going to regret it. Something else would come along. I could do this.

  I started the car and drove back to my girl. Maybe the world would stop sucking so much if I got a couple more kisses in. She always did that for me.

  By the time I finally pulled in, cursing the busted up driveway, my hands itched to touch Zamira. The girl was a drug. Or a puzzle piece that had the magical ability to turn me into the sappy man alive.

  Zamira came out wearing a short blue dress and makeup. That was the first time since we got here that she went all out. How did I manage to snag her?

  “Got everything we need?” she asked.

  “Not even close. My car isn’t made for heavy loads, so I only got the minimum.” And spent the entire unemployment check on it.

  She came closer and gave me a peck on the lips. I put one arm on her waist, another on her neck, and went for a long, deep kiss. One that could calm my soul. Realign the world. Make everything right again.

  “A morphine drip.”

  “What?” Zamira pulled away enough to look me in the eyes. “Did you get a heat stroke?”

  “No. Just deliriously happy to have you. And you’re a morphine drip for a painful year.”

  She patted my cheek. “I made food and tea. You need to hydrate.”

  I followed her inside. “I know this house is a full-time job, but I need to figure out how to make money. This is killing me.”

  “Why did people hire you before?”

  “Because I can draw pretty pictures.” I sat at the table set for two, a plate of steaming vegetables and chicken in front of me. “Also, because they couldn’t keep up with the workload for animation. And when I couldn’t get gigs there, I drew portraits for tourists. How do I convince someone to spend money on something useless when everyone is worried about food?”

  “Don’t think of it as something useless. Art doesn’t have to just hang on the wall. Try to find a problem that a lot of people have and solve it.”

  “The only problem people have now is too much free time and boredom.” I tried the first bite of the vegetables. Huh. “You’re not the embodiment of perfection, after all.” I sprinkled salt on it.

  “Oh. I must’ve…” she turned red. “Sorry. Never mind.”

  “I’m just teasing. It’s still good. Thank you.”

  Zamira pulled out her phone. “So, people are bored.” Still flushed, she fumbled with the phone.

  Discord buzzed with a notification for me. I opened an app and read.

  Zamira: Hi, @everyone. A quick question, what do you do to help with the boredom?

  TomJ: video games.

  LaurieBell: seriously? You realize he’s gonna dump you like tomorrow.

  Why had I ever thought dating this bitch was a good idea?

  MattA: @LaurieBell If that was supposed to be a comment on my sex life, you don’t need to worry about it. We’re looking for job ideas.

  Groovy Will: board games. If I could draw, I’d be making board games right now and trying to crowdfund them. I bought a couple to play with my roommates, and I can write them, but I draw like a four-year-old. Apparently, people are making a killing on them, though.

  Zamira and I exchanged a look. Of course, that’s what people did when they were bored. Why didn’t I think o
f that?

  I sent Will a private message.

  MattA: about board games, I have the opposite problem. I don’t know how to write them. Wanna do it together and split the profit?

  Groovy Will: really? That’d be fun to do even for free. I kinda love you right now.

  I waved Zamira over so she could be in on the conversation. She sat on my lap and looked at the screen.

  “Are you going to answer him? You need to figure out what to work on.”

  “Wait.”

  Will started typing something. Any moment now.

  Groovy Will: No homo.

  “See? He had to say that first.”

  “You’re ridiculous.” Zamira laughed and stole a forkful of my chicken. “Why are men so awkward about it?”

  “I’m not. If we went on with the conversation, he’d get all weird about it and then a day later, he’d give me a whole speech about how he didn’t mean it like that. That would be awkward.”

  She tapped at my phone. “Answer him before he starts thinking about the speech.”

  Would’ve been easy to think about making a game if I didn’t have Zamira’s ass on my crotch.

  MattA: do you have ideas for a game, or should we research?

  Groovy Will: I have a couple of ideas. Do you wanna do horror, fantasy, or humor?

  MattA: Maybe humor. We already live in a horror game.

  Groovy Will: Sounds good to me. Give me a couple of days to figure it out.

  A couple of days would be enough to reinforce the roof and maybe finish cleaning this place.

  “I think you just saved my sanity, gorgeous.”

  Chapter 17

  Zamira

  “IT’S GOOD, MOM. JUST staying inside and keeping myself busy.” I wasn’t even lying. I was definitely busy watching Matt workout outside. The living room window gave the perfect view.

  “What about the money?”

  “Nothing yet. My unemployment still didn’t go through, but I got a sewing machine, so I’ll try to sell masks. And my…” oh crap. My what? Damn it. Why did I have to keep talking? “My roommate got state unemployment, and she is trying to make a few things to sell too.”

 

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