by Kim Holden
“Sure,” I say, nervously.
“Wonderful. You two go on ahead; I’ll be right behind you.” Sunny says as she waltzes to the back room.
I call my mom to tell her I won’t be home for dinner. As I expected, she’s thrilled with the news.
Once in my car, I follow Sebastian down the familiar route to their neighborhood. God, it’s been a long time. Too long. It feels strange to drive through the guard gate in my own car. And once I’m inside, waves of panic pulse through my veins. The panic increases exponentially with every revolution of the tires. I’m talking to myself like a crazy person as I coast down their street. By the time I bring Jezebel to a halt in front of their house, my body is trembling. I feel elated, terrified, and so nervous I could puke. I’m full-on manic. I cut the engine, close my eyes, and take several deep breaths. I open them again and look out the passenger window at Sunny’s house, contemplating the position I’ve just put myself in. The fact is, it isn’t too late to turn around and go home. But then Sebastian gets out of his car and walks down the driveway, motioning for me to come around to the back of the house.
“Don’t be such a coward, Ronnie,” I tell myself, coaching my body to open the door and deposit myself on the asphalt. Sebastian has disappeared. I take a last deep inhale to calm my nerves, and then walk quickly down the driveway. I can’t give myself time to chicken out, but I remind myself that running to the house would make me look pathetically excited—which of course, I am (well, either pathetically excited or masochistically deranged. Yeah, okay I’m glutton for punishment). The back door leading into the kitchen is open. Cautiously, I enter, utterly terrified of what I might find on the other side.
“Hello?” I call out timidly as I step inside. There is no one in the room.
As I look around the kitchen the memories come flooding back. The Glenn home had been a secondary sanctuary for me during the several months that Dimitri and I dated. Remembering the time I spent here makes me realize how much I miss it. Not the house, necessarily, but the feeling it gives me when I’m here: warm, safe, and loved. The nervousness subsides somewhat as I lose myself in the familiarity of the place and the memories it provides.
Resigned to stay (what did I say about being a glutton?), I take off my coat and drape it over a chair at the table. I set my bag on the chair, and then walk over and sit down on one of the stools at the counter. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I feel comfortable. I’ve spent countless hours in this kitchen and always sat on this particular stool. One of Dimitri’s car magazines is lying on the counter and I start flipping through it, a diversion while I wait for Sunny to arrive with the pizza.
“Ronnie?” It’s an exclamation of shock, surprise, and disbelief. I know the voice, of course, and my heart is racing again (yep, I’m definitely masochistically deranged).
I turn on the stool to see Dimitri standing in the doorway leading in from the dining room. His snug-fitting shirt is covered in paint. Splatters of black stain his pants, too. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara and I don’t know if I’ll be able to speak. I smile quickly, although I’m somewhere between nervous and straight-up-terrified. When he doesn’t respond, I lose the half-smile and just stare. I give both of us a moment … a reprieve.
A moment turns into several moments … and several more moments.
Dimitri hasn’t moved—not a fraction of an inch. Is he breathing?
Silence is now the elephant in the room.
It’s too much for me to bear. “Sunny invited me over for pizza,” I blurt. “I … I hope that’s okay. She should be here any minute. You know, with the pizza …” I trail off, trying to conceal the fear in my voice. The words are rushed, and I feel my tendency toward nervous rambling kicking in. I need to shut up.
Dimitri blinks a few times, as if my voice has finally broken through to him. “Wow. Pizza. Okay …” His voice is monotone and filled with shock.
I rise and start to reach for my coat. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
He looks at the floor, closes his eyes as if he can’t bear to watch me walk out the door, and pleads softly, “No, stay. Please. I’m just … surprised.”
The desperation in his voice seems to cut right to my heart. I don’t want to go, and I don’t think he wants me to, either. So I set my coat back down on the chair and return to the stool. It’s only after I’m seated that he blinks. He’s watching my every move intently. “Thank you,” he whispers.
Suddenly, Sunny walks through the door carrying two large pizza boxes and a two-liter bottle of soda. She sets them on the counter next to me and the apologies begin. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, sweetie. I forgot how busy Mile High Pie can be on a Friday night. I had to wait a few extra minutes.”
Hesitantly, Dimitri steps into the kitchen from the doorway. “Oh, hi honey!” Sunny’s eyes always light up when she sees him. She walks over and kisses him on the cheek.
“Hey Mom,” Dimitri says. The shock is receding from his voice but still abundantly clear in his eyes.
Sunny’s suddenly cautious. “I invited Veronica over for dinner tonight.”
Dimitri takes a seat on the stool at the other end of the counter from mine. “I see that.”
I know she isn’t oblivious to Dimitri’s mood—the shock would be obvious to a complete stranger—but she tries to act casual. “I see you’ve been painting. Is the Fitzpatrick piece done?”
He reaches for a piece of pizza from the box in between us and takes a bite. “I just finished it. I’m not happy with the way it turned out though. It needs something, but I’m not sure what yet. I’m going to take a look at it again later tonight.”
Sunny pats him on the back as she walks behind him. “I’m sure it’s perfect. You’re always so hard on yourself.” She takes a seat between us and I can feel both Dimitri and myself relax a little at the buffer.
It’s quiet until Sebastian returns to eat. He’s changed out of his school clothes and into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. He looks at me, and then Dimitri. I pretend not to notice the apologetic, minute shrug he aims at Dimitri. He fills the awkward silence as he stacks six pieces of pizza on a plate. “So, D., did you hear that Bob finally surrendered? Mom wore him down.” He looks to Sunny with a teasing smirk. “I mean, she skillfully persuaded him.” He wraps the words “skillfully persuaded” in air quotes with his fingers.
Dimitri’s voice softens and begins to sound more like himself. “No kidding? That’s great. When does he start?”
Sunny smiles in satisfaction. “On Monday. Veronica will get some well-deserved help and Sebastian can get back his normal routine.”
The rest of the dinner conversation centers on Bob. I stop eating after one piece of pizza; I can’t trust my uneasy stomach to any more than that. Throwing up would put a bit of a damper on the evening, and right now I need all the help I can get.
Sebastian disappears to the basement and Sunny wraps the leftovers in plastic wrap to store in the refrigerator while announcing that she’s leaving to meet Pedro for a movie. “Thanks for joining us tonight, Veronica. We really enjoyed having you.” She smiles warmly. “That stool has gone empty far too long. Stay as long as you like.” She winks at me as she pulls the door shut behind her. I’m beginning to think this is a set-up and the terror returns.
The silence is deafening, and I take that as my cue to make an exit, even though, deep down, leaving is the last thing I want to do. Leaving will relieve the near-nausea that my body is struggling against at the moment, but that unpleasant feeling is almost welcome—a fair trade for the way sitting near him makes my heart feel. It doesn’t ache the way it has the past few months. It feels alive again. And for the moment I’m selfish. I need this.
Suddenly, Teagan’s advice rings in my ears: “Get out of your head for once and let your body take over. Follow your instincts.” The sudden urge to walk over and kiss Dimitri is overwhelming. There’s nothing in this world better than kissing Dimitri Glenn. Nothing. Time hasn’t erased the sma
llest detail of his kisses from my memory. Truthfully I dream about them often, very often: his taste, his smell, his touch … the all-consuming desire. I wonder if my thoughts are written all over my face. The heat is rising in my cheeks and my heart is flying.
I steal a glance down the counter at him. He’s staring at me. “You know she’s right,” he says, his voice steady and calm.
He holds my gaze, and I can’t look away. “Right about what?”
“That stool has gone empty far too long.” His eyes are serene and the corner of his mouth hints at a smile.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
He just nods.
This is your moment, Ronnie, I think to myself. You may not get this chance again. Okay heart, you ready? Mind’s going to shut up now, heart’s got the floor. “Dimitri, I’m sorry … about everything.” I want to hug him, to feel his arms around me again, to feel his warmth. I want to follow my instincts.
“I know. I am too,” he whispers. I know his face well, there’s a struggle flashing behind his eyes.
I’m almost certain he’s wrestling with the same feelings I am. There are so many things I want to say. I want to tell him how much I miss him. I want to tell him that my life is better when he’s in it. But I don’t want to push my luck and ruin this moment. My heart steps down off the soapbox and forfeits control to my mind again. We sit in silence for more than a minute before I opt for the safety of a subject change. I am such a coward.
“My dad got the Cubs tickets in the mail last week. He was so excited, you should’ve seen him. It really was a nice thing for you to do. Thank you.”
He smiles, either at the change of topic or maybe just the topic itself. “It was the least I could do. He called a few days ago to thank me. He said they’re leaving early the morning after graduation and making a weeklong vacation out of the trip. It should be a good time. I’m glad you came up with the idea. Your parents work hard and deserve a vacation.”
I smile and nod. “Yeah, they do. Thanks again.”
After a few more minutes of small talk the nervousness subsides on both sides and we settle into comfortable conversation. We cover a wide range of topics without ever touching upon anything too personal. The past few months melt away. The awkwardness, at least for the moment, has vanished. And laughter returns. It’s encouraging, consoling, kind; like an old friend returned from a long time away. I forgot how much we used to laugh together.
I love his laugh.
There isn’t a moment of silence and we don’t move from our stools seated ten feet from each other—not until I excuse myself to use the bathroom. I glance absently at the clock on the wall when I return to the kitchen. “Is that clock right? Is it really 1:37 in the morning?”
Dimitri looks at his watch and confirms. “It is indeed.”
I’m pleasantly surprised. The past several hours have passed effortlessly. “I had no idea it was so late. I guess I should probably get going.”
Dimitri’s face is peaceful and angelic as he rises to help me put my coat on. “Thanks for coming over tonight, Ronnie. You don’t know what it meant to me. I feel like this is the first time I’ve been able to breathe in months.” He lifts his hand, but hesitantly stops just short of brushing my cheek. He smiles and lowers it. “Can I walk you to your car?”
My heart is soaring and my palms are sweaty. “I’d like that.”
We walk slowly down the long driveway, our bodies so close that our arms brush against each other. I think back to the first day of school and smile; personal space is so overrated.
He opens the driver side door and stands behind it at a safe distance so as not to make the situation awkward. I throw my bag through onto the passenger seat and stand with one hand on the door and the other on the steering wheel. When I look up at him he’s staring down at me. His eyes glitter in the streetlight.
It’s at that moment that my life comes into focus, like flipping a switch. The entire world tilts back onto its axis. Call it an epiphany; the rare type of realization that changes your life absolutely. I need this man in my life. I need him like I need air and water. He is part of me—my past and my future. Since the day we met I’ve given my heart to him … piece by piece. And it’s at this exact moment that I realize he has all of it. My heart is no longer mine; it belongs to him and always will.
I can’t help but smile.
He returns the smile—his beautiful smile. “What?” he asks softly.
“Thank you for being you, Dimitri.”
Not much escapes him and I know from the look in his eyes that he understands. He nods humbly. “You’re welcome.”
I duck down into the driver’s seat and look back up at him. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.” I don’t know if it’s a question or a declaration, but it’s hopeful.
He winks. “You can count on it.”
Slowly he shuts the door and moves to the sidewalk. I wave and pull away, watching him in my rearview mirror as he begins to fade into the distance. He stands there glowing under the streetlight like an angelic statue. When I turn the corner, he’s gone.
Life is sometimes … an epiphany.
Chapter 14
Falling in love
… again
The night is long; sleep eludes me for hours. When the dream finally comes it’s about him, as they always are now. The dream is a succession of still images, like a slideshow. Each image captures Dimitri and me at different ages and in different situations. Many of the images are borrowed from actual events or past dreams I’ve had, but some, like us at a wedding that appears to be ours, are obviously just my mind taking liberties. Unconsciousness usually affords my imagination the privilege of conjuring up fanciful stories, but this dream is the scrapbook of a storied life—fulfilled, content, and lovely.
To say I’m disappointed when the alarm clock halts my visions is an understatement. “Back to reality,” it buzzes. “Life and work won’t wait.” Don’t I know it.
Sunny is already at the office when I arrive at 8:45. I’m thankful to see donuts and hot tea waiting for me. I feel like the walking dead after only getting two hours of sleep. The caffeine and sugar will at least offer a jumpstart.
Sebastian, Sunny, and I start working promptly at nine o’clock. The morning flies by with not much progress made. Complications that Sunny had no way of anticipating arise. It slows us down. Sebastian stays an extra two hours and leaves at one in the afternoon, at which time we break for lunch. Sunny calls for Chinese to be delivered.
With a box of steaming Hunan beef in my lap, I sink into the sofa in the back room and enjoy my lunch. Sunny sits on the sofa next to me. We’re both exhausted and for a while we don’t speak—just work with our chopsticks, focused on food.
“Veronica, I’m so sorry this is taking so long,” Sunny says, chewing around bites of sweet-and-sour chicken. I had no idea we would run into so many problems. If you need to leave, I understand. You look like you didn’t get much sleep last night.” She winks and says, “Late night?”
I laugh. She doesn’t miss anything. Or maybe she’s just hopeful. “Late night,” I confirm with a nod. “Thanks for inviting me over. It was very … fortuitous.”
She smiles softly. “I don’t want to interfere, but D. has been miserable without you and you haven’t seemed yourself, either. I thought it would be nice for the two of you to spend some time together.”
“It was nice, thank you. And I can stay as long as you need me today. I told you, I’m not going to prom. I don’t have any plans tonight.”
She reaches across the sofa and rests her hand on my shoulder tenderly. “Veronica, you’re an angel. Thank you for all the help you’ve given me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you these past few months.”
I smile. “You’re pretty easy to want to help. Maybe if you weren’t so nice and wonderful all the time—” I say sarcastically. “No, even then I’d still probably want to help you.”
She giggles. “Okay. You finish
up your food. I need to run to the hardware store to pick up the paint. Will you be alright here by yourself?”
“Of course, go ahead. I’ll be fine.”
• • •
After Sunny leaves, I turn up the music and my body grudgingly picks up where it left off. I’m singing along (loudly) to one of my favorite songs when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and the text reads: “Can you keep it down in there? :) And please come and open the front door.” It’s from Dimitri. My pulse accelerates and the smile on my face is instantaneous. I turn down the music and run to the front door.
He’s standing at the door holding a large frame wrapped in brown paper. It’s taller than he is, and almost as wide. It must be a painting. I hear his laughter as I open the door. He gently slips the painting inside first.
“What’s so funny? You don’t like my singing?” My tone is mockingly defensive, but I can feel the blush rising in my cheeks.
He laughs again and shakes his head as he gingerly steadies the painting against the wall. “I love your singing … but don’t quit your day job. I just forgot how loud you belt it out when you think no one’s listening.”
My face is beet-red. I know I’m a terrible singer, which is one of the reasons I never sing in front of anyone. But when I’m alone, it’s a different story. Without an audience I sing at the top of my lungs. “You’ve never heard me sing before, so stop trying to embarrass me.”
He turns and winks at me. The odd, knowing smile returns to his lips. “That’s what you think.” He proceeds to the back room. “What smells so good? I haven’t eaten all day. I’m starving.” He’s peeking in the containers still open on the table. “Do you mind if I have some? Are you finished?” Unable to wait for an answer, he begins scooping the last few spoonfuls of Hunan beef into his mouth with my chopsticks.
“All done, help yourself. I need to get back to work.”
