Yesterday when I opened the door to their familiar, loving faces I nearly lost my ability to form words. The surprise, the excitement and love left me speechless. Apparently, Tyler managed to convince my parents, who rarely leave their hometown, to fly across the world to spend some time with us. When I asked Tyler how he’d managed to communicate with them, given their very limited English and Tyler’s nonexistent Estonian, he just shrugged and dismissed it with a simple, “Where there’s a will there’s a way, Kiis.”
With a ridiculously happy sigh, I run my hand over my little A-line, black dress, smoothing it before taking the steps down. I pass by the kitchen first, check if Adina needs any help, which she declines with a feign scowl that follows by a calm smile, whispering, “You go on, honey, people are waiting for you.”
Taking a seat between my dad and Tyler, I do a double take when my eyes meet Max. Pointing at Max, I lean a little toward Tyler, asking, “Have I met this one before?”
Tyler chuckles in response. “Weird, ah?”
“Just weird? I’m more than a little uncomfortable.” I eye the person in subject doubtfully. “Do you think he’ll, I don’t know, go through some scary transformation if he’s exposed to light, or fed after midnight?”
Tyler’s lips stretch wider at my insinuation that Max is a cute little mogwai that might transform into an evil gremlin soon. Because, the version of Max sitting across the table is new to me, all cleaned up and sweet, hair slicked and combed back. It’s unsettling to say the least.
“Wait till you see how he acts next to the likes of,” Tyler gestures with a circle hand movement around the room and then nods toward the entrance where just like magic, with a soft throat clearing sound, enters a mousey, slender lady in a pink sundress. A sweet, summery, teenage targeted perfume advertisement jumps to my mind as a reaction to young, rosy-cheeked, nerdy Gwyneth Paltrow lookalike. My lips part to Max, clumsy and hesitant, pushing back from his chair, the top of his cheeks tint.
A little baffled, I turn to Tyler. To my wordless question, Tyler just nods with a tipped lip, communicating “Told ya.”
“Now I’ve seen it all.” I murmur.
Tyler chuckles beside me, leaning in to press a kiss on my temple. “I guess when a cute girl is involved sometimes a leopard does change its spots.”
Still rather incredulous to this oddest of transformations, I ask, “And what, loses his spots and turns into a Chihuahua?”
The dinner is a lovely chaotic affair, what with the number of people around the table, talking to each other, over each other and in groups. Jeremy is being extra sweet, trying to entertain my parents with the help of a translation app. Jay and Killer, plotting a boy only trip to wherever to which Melena shakes her head my way, animatedly rolling her eyes. Dad surprisingly looks more than comfortable in this diverse surrounding. Mom seems blissful, sipping at her champagne, her fond, full gaze sweeping the room. Brooklyn and her girlfriend, Bebe, safe in this welcoming environment, show each other extra affection like no one’s watching. The new Max doesn’t even catch a glimpse of the lovers beside him, utterly focused on his new sweet object of affection.
All in all, it’s sort of odd, yet utterly perfect.
Gently tilting back with my chair, I feel almost illegally happy, floating in a bubble of sentimental joy. You rarely get to experience this kind of connection and friendship in your life. One that leaves you whole and content.
I feel Tyler’s warmth as he leans closer to me. “Hey Kiis, how about you, me and a lifetime of this?”
I slowly turn to him with a wide smile, tilted back, still balancing on two legs of the chair. “Yes. So much yes.”
His eyes shine at me. “Okay then, I guess I’ll do it properly, get the ring and all.”
Get the ring and all? That’s when I lose my balance on the chair and ever so not elegantly fall back with the silliest of shrieks. At first, Tyler’s hand flies out to catch me, his features crumbled with worry. He manages to catch my hand and eases the landing impact. He assesses me for a frozen beat. When he realizes that I’m good, no real injuries in sight, he traps the smile stretching his lips with his teeth, and all urgency vanishes.
Tyler leaves his seat and dropping down to his haunches, he whispers, “You okay?”
I nod, rosy warmth taking over my cheeks.
“Kallis, kas olete koras?” My mom’s concerned voice from a couple seats away sobers me a little.
“Kõik hea, ema,” I’m fine, I answer, eyes glued to the man who just made me lose my balance. Figuratively and literally.
Eyes crinkled adorably at me, Tyler cocks his head. Still whispering, he adds, “Is it just me, or does it seem like each time I declare my love for you, you end up falling on your ass?”
I let out a spontaneous giggle. “Maybe it’s time I do the declarations, you know, just to avoid further unnecessary injuries.”
His grin at me grows brighter and brighter. “Fucking crazy about you,” he whispers. Sending his hand to my waist, Tyler helps me to my feet.
Warring my lips, my own words thunder in my head, “Maybe it’s time I do the declarations.” My heart is about to bang its way out of my chest as I raise on my tiptoes to whisper next to Tyler’s ear, “Come with me upstairs?”
A cheeky grin touches Tyler’s lips. “I’m always down with going with you upstairs, but now? With all of our guests here?”
For a millisecond my brows pinch. “Not that kind of come with me upstairs.” The thrill that left me for a beat returns when I say, “I just need to talk to you, alone, okay?”
Tyler observes me hesitantly then mumbles some excuse to the room with a reason I don’t even hear given my mind is spinning, and follows me up the stairs.
Tyler’s smile morphs into a quizzical one when I pass the bed and lead him to our joined dressing room. The question on his face only deepens when I rummage through my underwear drawer like an unhinged crazy lady. When I finally find the little velvet box and turn to him, the air between us changes drastically. I can hardly breathe due to my anxiety, seems like the same act is quite a challenge for him too when his eyes meet the box.
I squeeze the box in one hand. Tyler’s eyes zoom in on the gesture. I clear my throat, not that it helps any. My voice still comes out graveled when I say, “I love you.” Tyler’s emotional eyes adhere to mine. “So incredibly much.” When his lips part to speak, I raise my free hand to lightly press two fingers on his lips. “Don’t say anything, please. Just leave it out there for a moment.” I repeat in a shaky voice, “I love you.”
Following my request, Tyler stays quiet. However, what transpires from his face assures me that I’m doing the right thing.
Swallowing over the emotions in my throat, I open my hand to reveal the box. “Would you — ” I swallow once more as my entire being is treading through an immense wave of apprehension. I take a deep breath, “Would you be my hus — my forever?”
Tyler doesn’t say a word. Instead he brings both his hands to cup my cheeks. For a silent beat he looks at me with enough sentiments to melt my core. Slowly, ever so slowly, he brings his lips to mine for the softest of kisses. Next, he doesn’t hug me, he wraps his arms around me to swallow me complete. Resting his lips on the crown of my head he finally says heavy with feelings, “Nothing I want more.”
For an overwhelming stretch we remain wrapped up in each other and then our lips meet. Slow and gentle and transcendentally perfect.
Tyler, 2 weeks later
I send a finger to the phone’s screen held in Jeremy’s palm; with just a little force I slightly push it down — for sake of attention. The kid’s eyes, somewhat unfocused, look up from the device. “It’s about to start,” I say, and he nods. First time in never that my son doesn’t show displeasure or provide a long list of supporting facts or, hell, a full-on closing argument before switching off a game. Who said miracles don’t happen?
Try as I might to blend in, I still get more than a couple of curious looks, and some not so surrepti
tious phone cameras directed my way. I cringe. Not what I wanted. Nevertheless still saw it coming. It’s not about me. I’m just a spectator today. It’s entirely about my Ivi who trades hesitant glances between the guy on the stage who’s about to introduce her to the audience and me. I send her a reassuring smile, communicating, “You got this, babe.” Because I know she’ll absolutely slay it. She’s Ivi, after all.
Her first couple of steps are tentative. Her timid air throws me back to Thanksgiving eve. Never have I felt so overwhelmed and flabbergasted by someone. I wasn’t a stranger to that box with the ring. We spent more than a few humored and wistful moments in Vegas together just before I put it away, never even implying I knew of its existence. But, Christ, when Ivi pulled it out with every intention to ask me to be hers, I was a goner.
Ivi seems to take a deeper, reassuring breath, squares her shoulders and makes her way to the center of the stage with enough charisma and grace to make my proud smile stretch wider. She adjusts the wireless mic, timidly smiling at the audience. She sends me a stolen glance and starts. “Funny, most of you know me, not for who I am but for being linked to someone else. So, maybe I’ll start by introducing myself.” It’s a rocky beginning but soon she captures them entirely, delivering her speech passionately with just enough intrigue to keep her listeners attentive.
Ivi goes on, “My, our relationship, is a home, not a billboard.”
I couldn’t agree more. Seamlessly, she segues to the real subject she’s here to talk about. I space out, not sure for how long. I’m lost. Completely lost. Her perfect eyes are all that I can see. I sober up to a wave of laughter and clapping. My feelings for her tantalize me, not for what she just said, or this Ted Talk she is delivering, but for everything she is. For the multitude of emotions and pride buzzing through me toward her.
I give Jeremy a sidelong glance. His brows are pinched. He slightly nods, agreeing with Ivi’s words about public shaming.
Rewarding the audience with a semi-frustrated smile, Ivi says, “These permissive environments seeding hate and humiliation, where we are told, or hinted at how we should look, what we should wear, how we should talk, think, and feel to fit in.” Captivated, both Jeremy and my attention are trained on her. “But you have a choice, you can choose not to let people out there attack you in the safety of your own home, or do that to others. Chose who to follow and unfollow, and most of all, give people on social media the same courtesy and respect you’d give them in real life. We all need to remember that words hurt, words affect, sometimes words can be deadly even when they’re delivered via a keyboard.”
Ivi pauses for a few beats, letting her message absorb. She then sends the audience a timid smile. “I never wanted to be in the spotlight but since I’ve practically been dragged into it, as you may know, I thought I might as well use it for a good cause. All benefits tonight go to YWOP.”
“Soon I’ll be known for being Ivi Kert’s boyfriend,” I tease Ivi who sits astride me on the bed, wearing my shirt, her favorite #Ivi-have-my-baby one and wool socks up to her knees. Looking as stunning as ever, casual and face free of makeup. Pure and natural is my favorite version of Ivi. Since the moment I got to know her, she changed the conversation inside my head, tweaking it, boosting it, spicing it little by little as she, little by little got under my skin. Slowly and persistently made her way into my heart till she owned it completely. I thought back then that I had it all figured out, was on the top of the world, living the life. Little did I know just how much was missing to make me feel genuinely complete. Ivi opened my eyes to what I was missing. In a subtle way it was Ivi who first guided me on how to reach my own child. She was there, silently yet influentially showing me how to get closer, how to open up, how to stop second guessing every move I made. Stop regretting the past and embrace the future. And eventually, how to fall completely and insanely in love.
“You mean Ivi Kert’s fiancé,” she friendly smacks my abs, her fingers linger, not so sneakily copping a feel. “Soon I will be known as Ivi Kert-Adams.” Here she goes, killing me again.
“If that’s not the most fucking beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” And I get the sweetest kiss. Killing me, little by little.
Ivi slowly leans back from our kiss. To the rhythmic tapping sound of rain. She tilts her head up to the skylight ceiling. A soft smile takes over her face. Contemplating, she murmurs, “It’s December again.”
“Tis,” I say, slowly dragging my open palms up her thighs. When her eyes are back on me, I say, “Just a year ago you were getting me spiked on eggnog, with your little cute outfit, all ‘Tyler kiss me, Tyler kiss me.’”
Her eyes grow. “What?” She shakes her head, puffing out feigned frustration. “You were the one who started it all.”
“Excuse me.” I muster innocence. “Me?” Unable to hold it in, my lips pull up devilishly. “Who came up to my room and practically forced me to have dinner with her?”
I get a friendly smack to my chest. “You’re incredible. Forced?”
“Not to mention tried to sedate me with poisonous food just to have her wicked way with me?” I let out a smug chuckle.
“Hey, that’s slander!” Her nose wrinkles animatedly.
“Whatever,” I laugh. My grin? Grows and grows. She’s fucking sweet.
“And you know how litigious I can get.” She cocks her head, challenging me.
My fingers slide under her shirt, slowly rising toward her ribs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I better get on your good side then.” I trail my fingers higher, Ivi’s lips part, humor gone, replaced by heat. For a brief moment I feel this pang to my chest. The knowledge of how much she wants me sends me to places so far beyond the realm of logic and control. The burn in me goes wild as I slowly strip her of her clothes. And when I finally sink into her, the feeling — it takes my breath away.
I’ve never met someone like her. I’m still in awe of her. Someone as selfless. Someone one who’s goal in life is to give back. We’re all too cynical. Ivi, on the other hand, truly believes that we can make this world a better place. She’s definitely made my world damn better, in every sense.
Jeremy, 2 weeks later
“Aaand this one’s for you.” I retrieve an envelope from under the decorated tree, handing it to Ivi who’s still in her white night shirt and knee-length green and red stripy socks pushed up to her knees. Ivi is sitting crossed legged next to me, leaning her back against my dad’s bare chest. She takes the envelope from my hand with a sleepy, content smile. Okay, I may have woken them a bit early. Okay, it might have been way too early. In my defence, it is Christmas morning. They didn’t really expect me to wait for the presents, did they? I mean, duh.
“Tyler told me everything.” I grin, thinking about how creative my gift is. “Every little detail about the two of you last Christmas eve,” I say by way of explanation. My brows knit and I adjust my glasses up my nose with my pointer finger as I observe her reaction. My frown deepens, she looks a little sick all of a sudden. Ivi is pale-ish as she turns with a horrified expression to look at my dad.
Seeing Ivi’s face, my dad tilts his head backward with a laugh. He brings his hand to cover his eyes, still chuckling, he murmurs, “This is gold.” Seeming unable to contain his amusement, he adds, “You should have seen your face, Kiis.”
“Tyler. . . seriously. You told him. . . everything?” Ivi stammers. “Seriously?” Her tone is harsher this time.
I’m having a hard time following whatever just happened. Adults can be so weird sometimes. Especially Ivi and my dad; sometimes they have these ridiculous conversations that no one really gets. It’s as if half of the data transferred between them is encrypted. Like they have their own language. Whatever.
“What?” Tyler asks over a chuckle. “The kid’s trying to give you something.”
Tentatively Ivi turns back to me. She clears her throat. “I guess I’m going to find out what’s inside,” she murmurs half to herself.
Before she manages to complet
ely unwrap the gift certificate, I hurry and say, “Tyler said you cooked the worse dinner ever last Christmas that nearly killed him.” I grin at her. “Cooking lessons! Booyah!”
My dad’s grin is almost blinding. I guess he appreciates the brilliant idea.
“Thanks Jer, very thoughtful,” Ivi moves over to hug me. When she takes her place back between dad’s thighs, she throws him a stink eye. Adults . . . And according to science teenagers’ neurons are still only half-baked. Go figure.
It’s my turn now. BOOYAH! They shower me with gifts. It’s a known fact that a spoiled kid may be unwilling to conform to ordinary demands. I’m keeping this little nugget to myself. Because . . . presents! Dad and Ivi watch me with matching smiles, yeah, they get those a lot when they observe me or when I say something they find amusing. Mmhmm, weird. But I’m not going to lie, I like it. It makes me feel special. Especially the ones coming from my dad.
Wrapping paper flies around as I tear through my gifts, grinning like its Christmas morning. See what I just did there?
Sitting there surrounded by my bounty, I half listen to the conversation beside me. “Ooh, I’m coming with, right? Can I?”
“Of course,” Ivi smiles at me. Again, the smile with the pride sparkle. “Sure, I’d love that. There’s always a need for some extra hands. You just need to check in with your mom first. If she’s fine with it, I’ll pick you up six-ish, okay?” I get to go home later and open presents with my mom. Having two homes isn’t a bad thing, I tell ya. I nod, happy I can go with Ivi to help over at the soup kitchen this evening.
The box left under the tree catches my eye and I cough, trying to get my dad’s attention. It’s something for Ivi that he promised we’d give her together since I helped in choosing it. He’s too absorbed in Ivi. She isn’t even talking yet he looks at her like she’s about to reveal the conclusion of the Avengers Endgame movie. I cough/say into my hand “Tyler.”
Unplugged II: Unplugged, #2 Page 16
