by Tiana Laveen
“This is how you do it ladies and gentlemen!” the man in the gray leotard exclaimed. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes,” he reminded. A few students applauded before chattering broke out among them. Angel turned her back and started to adjust the wraps around her ankle when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around.
“Oh!” she smiled. “How long have you been here?” she asked, bending back over to adjust her straps. Arashi looked at her form, the gracefulness of even her most mundane activities.
“Long enough to see you make me regret my past feelings about ballet.” Angel looked up at him and took notice of his thick eyebrows.
“What?” Arashi asked, noticing her glare.
“I like your eyebrows. They’re thick but well-groomed. They stand out against your skin because you’re so light.”
“I’m not sure what to say. Thank you?” Arashi laughed.
“Yes, it’s a compliment,” Angel smiled.
“How do you dance like that?” Arashi asked while leaning up against the wall next to her.
“I honestly don’t know. I know I practice a lot, but some of it seems to come on its own.
We’re not your typical ballet troop. We mix Jazz, Hip Hop, Classical, and Blues. We have flava. That’s probably why you like it,” Angel grinned.
“I suppose you’re correct. Well, without further ado, may I have your key?” Arashi stuck out his hand and smiled seductively. Angel walked a few steps away and reached into her bag.
She pulled out her house keys and handed them to Arashi.
“Don’t burn my house down,” she teased.
“I told you I’m not cooking!” Arashi laughed. He leaned in to give Angel a kiss. She was taken aback. Some of the students pointed and whispered. Angel looked behind her and saw them.
“We should probably save that for a more private location,”
she smiled weakly.
“Mind y’all's business!” screamed the man in the gray leotard.
Arashi fought his slight embarrassment and nodded.
“OK then. I’ll see you later, my Dear!” He headed towards the door with her address in tow.
* * *
Arashi walked up to the apartment building and took out the piece of paper again, confirming the address. His Garmin tried to lead him down a one-way street, so he had to improvise. He carried with him food from Chen’s. The aromas of sesame oil, chili pepper, and braised duck were sending his hunger pangs into overdrive.
“Yeah, this is it – Apartment 2B.” He turned the key and walked inside the townhouse. By the doorway was a wooden, oak table with a Tiffany lamp. Alongside it was a container that held mail. Arashi looked to his right and saw a fireplace and mahogany dining room table with six matching chairs. He could tell it was antique. The centerpiece was a twelve-inch glass figurine dancer surrounded by a wreath made of white feathers.
A large painting of two little Black girls dancing in a field of grass and poppies was immediately to his left. The apartment smelled like cinnamon and nutmeg. He closed the door behind him, taking the groceries and flowers into her kitchen.
The kitchen was small but well decorated. The appliances were old-fashioned but appropriate. The refrigerator and stove were sky blue. The counters and cabinets were white with silver knobs. A 1960s pin-up poster of a woman holding a large chocolate chip cookie was on the wall. Arashi nodded in approval of Angel’s eclectic taste. He took out a large wooden salad bowl from one of the cabinets, then laid out the apples, pears, and strawberries he purchased. He washed them meticulously, moving his thumbs slowly across their skin with light pressure, careful to not bruise any of the delectable produce.
He dried them off and arranged them in the bowl, placing a couple of bananas on top.
Arashi opened the oven and placed the carryout containers inside. He picked up the flowers and headed to Angel’s bedroom.
He opened the door and sighed out loud. The walls were dark plum. There stood a large canopy bed made of Manzanita and two matching end tables with white marble lamps in the form of ballet dancers, one male and one female, holding heavily jeweled lamp shades up in the air. Her bed was covered in lavender cotton sheets that made it look fluffy, warm, feminine, and inviting. Arashi walked up to her vanity. He looked at the lip glosses, facial powder, and perfume bottles that lined it. A bottle of red nail polish and three cotton balls stood perfectly aligned.
“Well, Angel, I hope you like what I have in store for you,”
Arashi thought to himself. He spent the next hour prepping everything to his satisfaction.
Arashi awoke startled.
“Oh, my goodness,” Angel laughed. “You fell asleep in my dining room chair, silly. I guess you didn’t hear me come in.
You left my door unlocked. Thank goodness because you have my key, and you’re in here asleep!” she teased. Arashi slowly rose to his feet.
“May I have that hug and kiss now?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
“You sure can.” Angel stepped in front of him and allowed his embrace to consume her. His body heat was comforting.
Arashi looked deep into her brown eyes and smiled. He moved his lips towards her, planting a slow, sweet kiss. He kept them there, breathing unhurriedly, and holding her close. Angel looked up.
“That was nice,” she said softly. “What in heaven’s that wonderful smell?” She walked towards her kitchen. There she took notice of the fruit. “For me?” she squealed. Arashi nodded
“yes” as he walked towards her.
“You’re so sweet, Dr. Takahashi.” Arashi took the food out of the oven, removing the foil.
Angel grabbed a couple of plates and forks. Arashi took out a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape, popped the cork and poured two glasses. Angel prepared to take her plate and glass into the dining room when Arashi took her arm.
“Let’s go to your living room,” he suggested. Angel followed him into the living room.
Arashi had placed purple and white rose petals all over the floor as well as on a white blanket.
“Oh, my goodness,” Angel said, bringing her hands to her face in disbelief.
“Have a seat.” Arashi helped lower her down to the ground.
He raised his glass.
“I hope this is a great second date for you.”
“Arashi, I don’t know how you’re going to top this! I mean, it’s just a second date, and I feel like I’ve walked into a dream.
You’re moving kind of fast,” Angel said as she looked around the room.
“I’m sorry. Maybe this was all a bit overboard.” Arashi felt embarrassment creep in.
“No, no. I’m sorry. I worded it wrong. I mean, you’re moving kind of fast, but I like it because you seem to know what you want. I’m just not used to this – to that,” she clarified.
“I do know what I want. I want to use this special time to get to know you better and develop ‘that’ and maybe have a relationship with you that surpasses platonic friendship.”
“It already is,” Angel whispered in his ear, kissing his neck then moving her way to his lips.
She licked his lips then sucked his bottom lip slowly.
“Mmm,” Arashi moaned. Angel smiled and took a sip of her wine. They sat on the blanket conversing and eating.
“You’re using a fork,” Arashi said as he dug into his food with his chopsticks.
“Yeah,” Angel laughed. “I don’t know how to use chopsticks.
My body’s ninety-five percent coordinated. My fingers aren’t a part of that ninety-five percent!” she giggled.
“Your body sure is coordinated,” Arashi thought to himself.
“Let me teach you.” He positioned his body behind hers. He reached around her, taking her hand into his.
“Place your thumb right here. Hold them down here.” He pressed her fingers gently to the wooden stick. “Hold the other chopstick with your index and middle fingers. That’s right. Use the tip of your thumb. OK, now let’s practice.” Arashi took
his chopstick, picked up a red pepper, and popped it into his mouth.
“Did you see that?” he asked.
“Yes, do it again.” Arashi picked up a piece of duck and put it in his mouth, making sure to show Angel how he was holding it. Angel took her chopsticks and picked up a noodle. It fell back to the plate.
“I told you!” she laughed.
“It takes practice. You’ll get it. Just keep practicing.” Arashi picked up a wonton and put it in Angel’s mouth.
“You’re always feeding me,” she smiled.
“Yes, I guess I am,” he smiled. Angel picked her fork up and started twirling her noodles.
Arashi rolled his eyes and laughed.
“After that wonderful lesson I gave you, you defy me and use your fork again, to twirl noodles no less!” He leaned in and tickled her, causing her to fall back abruptly, roll, and giggle.
“Oh, stop! You’re killing me! That’s my spot!” she screamed.
“Don’t touch that! Oh, my God!” she continued to laugh and roll around, trying to claw her way free on the carpet, only to have Arashi pull her back. She was laughing so hard tears were streaming out of her eyes.
“OK! Uncle! I surrender!” she screamed. Arashi stopped and was unexpectedly knocked over on his back. His arms flailed out the sides. Angel sat atop him, leaned in close, and began to passionately kiss him. He placed his arms around her waist and kissed her back. Before long their mouths were open as they exchanged slippery secrets. Angel began to move back and forth on his crotch, slowly grinding her essence into his pelvis. They both moaned and sighed.
As things intensified, Angel slowed her hips down and rose up gradually.
“Oh, my,” she said a bit winded. Arashi sat up and took a sip of his wine.
“‘Oh, my’ is right,” he smiled.
“Hey, I rented a movie I thought you may like. It’s called
“The Red Shoes." It’s the story of a ballerina in the 1940s. There are some striking dance scenes in it, and it takes place in Monte Carlo. It’s supposedly based on the Ballet Russet de Monte Carlo. I hope you haven’t seen it.” Angel just kept looking at Arashi, smiling.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with trepidation.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking about how thoughtful you are. How you got something you thought I’d like. How you came here and set up a nice dinner, bought me fruit, and show genuine interest. I find you puzzling, handsome, and extremely romantic.” Arashi smiled and did not respond. He loaded the DVD and laid back down on the floor with Angel in his arms.
* * *
“That was an excellent movie, Arashi.” Angel smiled and yawned.
“I’m glad you liked it. Well, I better get going. I can see you’re tired, and I have an appointment early in the morning with a client.” Angel stood to her feet. Arashi picked up their plates and utensils and took them to the kitchen.
“I’ll be right back.” Angel disappeared into her bedroom where she found more rose petals, the lovely flower arrangement placed on her vanity, and a large chocolate-covered strawberry with a red bow on it.
“Oh, my God, Arashi!” she said in a muffled voice behind a closed door as he washed the dishes.
“You weren’t supposed to see that until after I left!” he yelled out to her, smiling to himself as the suds ran through his fingers.
“I only got you one strawberry because you said you were trying to lose weight. I think chocolate’s calorie-less, though,”
he laughed. Angel came out of the bedroom and handed Arashi a card. He dried his hands.
“What I have for you seems cheap and impersonal compared to this layout, but…”
“No, if it’s from the heart, then there’s no comparison,” he said softly. Arashi opened the card. The front of it depicted a man lying on a couch talking to a shrink. The card read:
“Doc, I think I’m in love.”
“Why’s that a problem?” the doctor asked.
“It’s with my dog.”
“You shouldn’t talk about your wife like that!” the doctor said.
Arashi laughed. Then in handwritten words, he read aloud: Arashi, I’ve been really having a great time with you. If you’re reading this card, it means we had an excellent second date.
Arashi stopped reading, looked at her, smiled, then continued: I have some questions for you:
What’s your favorite color?
What’s your favorite food?
What are the three most important things in life to you?
What do you want in a woman?
- Angel
Arashi leaned against the kitchen sink and crossed his legs.
“Hmm – well, my favorite color’s red. My favorite food’s your lips. The three most important things in life to me are family, helping others, and finding my life partner. What I want in a woman is sanity.” Arashi and Angel laughed.
“I want her and myself to have similar interests and values. I want her to have her own identity, but complement my style,”
Arashi smirked. That was a line he had picked up from Morris.
“I also want her to be open-minded and willing to learn, as well as teach. I can be a pain sometimes, so I need someone that understands my idiosyncrasies.” Angel crossed her arms over her chest.
“How are you a pain?” she smiled.
“I’m detail-oriented to the point it drives people crazy. I always have to sleep on the left hand side of the bed wherever I go. I have a routine I do before I go to bed unless I’m very tired.
I could continue, but I think you get the idea.”
“What routine?” Angel leaned in close to Arashi’s face.
“I can’t tell you. Maybe one day you’ll see for yourself.” He kissed her cheek, then lightly on her lips.
“I better get going. I had a wonderful time, and thank you for the card.” Angel walked Arashi to the door, crossing her bare feet as she noticed he looked down.
“What are you hiding?” he asked.
“My feet. I don’t want you to see them.” Arashi rolled his eyes.
“You’re a dancer. I know they’re not worthy of a foot fetish.
Luckily, I don’t have one!” They laughed. He blew her another kiss as she watched him get into his car and drive away.
Angel closed the door – and her eyes.
She said aloud, “Lord, if this is the real him, you really gave me a good one.” She then retired to her bedroom with her remainder of her wine.
Arashi did not notice Ryoko had parked across the street as he left in beloved bliss, totally oblivious to his surroundings.
* * *
Three weeks later…
“Have you heard anything since?” Morris said on the other end of the phone.
“No. I had that court case I told you about. I came home expecting the worst, but the emails and calls, everything stopped.
She received the restraining order. I know that because the police verified that she signed it. I really hope to never see her again. I hope she understands how serious this is now,” Arashi said as he sat at his desk in his bedroom.
“Have you spoken to Angel today? Is she back from that conference in New York?”
“Yes, I spoke to her this afternoon. She will be back tomorrow evening. I miss her,” Arashi answered.
“Awww, isn’t that cute!” Morris teased. “So you guys seem to be getting serious. I don’t even see you anymore. All of your free time is spent with Ms. Ballet!” Morris laughed.
“I know. I’m a terrible friend. I believe we’re getting more serious. She’s a breath of fresh air. I really like her,” Arashi smiled.
“I know you do. You’d have to in order to stop working all day and night. Alright, man. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“OK, goodnight.” Arashi hung up.
Arashi opened up his laptop and saw he had a new email.
To: Arashi Takahashi
From: Mom – Shiori Takahashi
Date: November 21
Arashi,
Go-busate desu. (Hello, Son.)
Onii-chan wa genki deshou-ka? Otou-san watashi-tachi wa, onii-chan ga inakute sabishiidesu. Hanarete ichi-jikan no doraibuto to shitte-iru ga, yori hinpan ni mi-ni kite kudasai.
Isogashii sukejuru demo, o-denwa arigatou-gozaimasu.
Dareka tsukiatte imasu-ka? Sou dato shiawase desu. Wareware wa, mago-chan ga hoshii desu. (I hope you’re well. Your father and I miss you. I know we’re an hour’s drive away, but please come see us more often.
Thank you for calling with your busy schedule. Are you dating anyone? I hope so. We want grandchildren.)
- Ijou (Mom)
Arashi picked up the phone and called his mother.
“Moshi moshi, (Good evening. Hello,)” Arashi said.
“Moshi moshi, Arashi. How are you?”
“I’m well, Mom. I received your email. Thank you. I see your computer lessons have been paying off. How are you and Dad fairing?”
“We’re very well. Yes, your father has been diligent about my courses. Are you having a Thanksgiving celebration or should we expect you here this year?” Arashi’s mother said with a thick Japanese accent.
“I’d like to come to your house, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to bring a friend.”
“You’ve met someone new since Ryoko? Good for you, son.
What’s her name? Tell me about her. Takao, pick up the phone.
Arashi’s on the phone!” his mother yelled.
“Her name’s Angel. She’s a ballet dancer,” Arashi answered.
“Oh, very nice. I’m excited to meet her,” his mother responded.
“Moshi moshi, Arashi-kun!” Arashi’s father said in his husky voice. “ Saikin dou desu-ka? (What’s happening?)”
“Genki desu, o-kagesama-de, (I’m good. Thank you,)”
Arashi said.
“Arashi has a girlfriend,” his mother interrupted. “He’s bringing her to our house for Thanksgiving. She’s a ballet dancer.”
