Sophie's Smile: A Novel

by Harper, Sheena

  20

  “Here’s a nice place to sit and wait.”

  Liam led me to a quiet corner next to the Landmark Theater in Hillcrest. We sat off to the side, at a quaint little iron table, chatting idly, watching passersby and the people working out inside the glass-front gym a few yards away. The night was still, with a cold breeze that occasionally interrupted our warm thoughts.

  Liam pointed toward the gym. “Do you see that guy on the stair stepper?”

  I followed his gaze and nodded. He was a husky guy, tanned, stiff with hulking muscles. He looked as wide as he was tall. “What do you think his story is?”

  Liam’s eyes lit up and filled with childish laughter, “Mach naime est Sven,” speaking now in a horrible German-Russian hybrid accent, “ach need to paump, paump, to get beeg and strawng so Ach ken go bach end mek pessionete luff to mach luffer.”

  I grinned, “Do you think his lover is a woman or a man?”

  “Probably a man, you know, considering.” Liam was referring to the town’s colorful finesse and charm.

  “Ahhh.” I nodded in agreement. “He probably had a lover’s spat and is working off his steam on the stair stepper.”

  “You’re probably right.” We started laughing uncontrollably. We were having so much fun we almost forgot about the movie. He glanced toward the theater and noticed the line starting to form. “Oh, we better get moving or else we won’t get good seats.”

  Inside, the theater was small but fitting. We sat near the back of the theater since the middle was already filled with older couples. This crowd was different than what I was used to—mostly people in their forties and up, people came alone, as couples—same sex and opposite—as families, and then there was us. We had to be the youngest couple in the room.

  All the critical acclaim for Brokeback Mountain was valid. As I watched the tragic love story unfold between two cowboys, I laughed, cried, and sat in awe. Midway through the movie I noticed Liam fidgeting in his seat, his hands shaking, flexing, gripping, placed on his lap, then back to the armrest. His hands were constantly moving. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, like the movie held no interest.

  Laughing so hard, my right hand instinctively moved to cover my mouth. At that moment I noticed Liam’s left hand move toward me—the hand halted in midair, then retracted back to his lap. Liam mumbled something unintelligible.

  “Did you say something?”

  “No, never mind.” He looked nervous and sat awkwardly. I didn’t want to be rude so I didn’t ask.

  My attention went back to the screen and another funny comment was made. I laughed, again, covering my right hand over my mouth. Liam’s hand moved again in conjunction with mine but this time his right hand reached across and grabbed my free hand…my left one, awkwardly. His cold and clammy hand stayed were it landed, unable to let go as if it were suddenly held in place by some powerful force.

  We continued to sit there, not moving, uncomfortable, but happy. I was thrilled. Liam started to relax, his mood lightened, and I realized that this was his mission from the start. His thumb started massaging my palm, rolling in tiny circles as if to try and lower my pulse, but only increasing it. Heat and sweat started to build as the tight grasp smothered the little air that remained, choking it.

  The movie ended and we just sat there while others clapped and exited the theater. We didn’t want the moment to end, so we just sat there silently, tension building, until we were the only ones remaining in our seats. He reluctantly let go. My swollen hand felt relieved, cooling as the sweat started to evaporate and the feeling returned.

  Pressing his hand gently against my back, he guided me out of the theater. The warmth of his hand felt comforting and nice. When we neared the elevator he grabbed my hand again—the correct hand—this time it felt less awkward, but the grasp was just as strong and intense.

  The ride home was quiet and whimsical. I stared out the window, hazed in a dreamy state, thinking about the events that just took place. The way the heat emanated from our grasp, rushing through my veins to reach my heart, causing beats to play up-tempo, beats that no experienced dancer could follow. The rhythm was accompanied with extraordinary notes and colors, and somehow I understood it beautifully. It was a glorious song. It was the first time I heard it play, and I smiled while thinking about this song—our song.

  Suddenly, we were standing at my front door, saying goodbye. We hugged. He then grabbed my hand, looked straight into my eyes and said, “I had a great time.”

  His smile flashed into a wide goofy grin that melted my heart. Liam was a gentleman, through and through. I realized he was taking it one step at a time with me, letting me sample a lovely cliché in each memorable experience.

  21

  The next morning I noticed that Liam sent me a message at 12:07 A.M., meaning he sent it the minute he returned from our date last night:

  January 7, 2006 12:07 AM

  Subject: I had a great time tonight :)

  Body:

  Hey Sophie,

  I just wanted to tell you again that I had a wonderful time with you tonight.

  Also, I’m already thinking that if you don’t have any plans this weekend, maybe we could squeeze in seeing each other one more time before school starts (maybe Sunday morning, go for a walk or something?).

  Give me a call if this sounds good; otherwise, no biggie, I’ll just call you sometime this week and we can chat then!

  Liam

  P.S. You are beautiful

  My heart stopped. I had to catch my breath on those last three words…You—are—beautiful. My mind was racing and I lost feeling in my limbs. If I wasn’t already sitting down, I probably would have stumbled over. He said I’m beautiful. I didn’t realize how much I craved to hear those words, to have them directed at me.

  I smiled. He’s good. Really good. He strings along one new gesture, one new look, one new phrase, just enough to surprise me, hold me, the spell increasing its power each time, making me spellbound. Yes, I was wavering, but I was beginning to think he was worth it.

  22

  I started getting ready for our date, humming to myself while putting the finishing touches to my makeup and hair. Mid-twirl, I caught Tiff eyeing me from the doorway and lost my balance, blushing hot with embarrassment.

  “So,” Tiff said with a smirk, “Is someone falling in love?” Drawing out the last word, she eagerly sat on my bed writhing with excitement for some juicy details.

  “Hmm? No, I’m just getting ready to go out.”

  “With Liam.”

  “Yes.”

  “Sunday morning.”

  “Yes.”

  Frustrated, she pushed on, “Soph, tell me the details already. Is he a good kisser? Have you seen everything he has to offer yet?”

  “Tiff!” Now I was frustrated, heat rising to my cheeks. Who did she take me for—another Tiffany? “No, we’ve just been hanging out, getting to know each other.”

  “So he’s not a good kisser and he has a small package.”

  “Ugh…” Tiff was hopeless. “I don’t know to both accounts.”

  “You mean he hasn’t even kissed you yet? Is he gay?”

  “Geez, Tiff.”

  She held up her hands in defense, “Sorry.”

  “If you must know, he’s a gentleman and he doesn’t want to make me feel uncomfortable.”

  “Why would kissing make you uncomfortable?”

  I was starting to perspire, “Because it would be my first kiss.”

  “Really? You never told me that.”

  “You never asked.”

  “Well, I just assumed you had…at least once, and that you weren’t dating right now because you were just…well, picky.”

  “Yea, well, that’s the truth. So please let’s not talk about it anymore, okay?” I asked pleadingly.

  “Okay.” She seemed dissatisfied but she took her cue and glided out of the room anyway.

  Tiff was a great roommate and friend, but like everyone else, s
he seemed to only know a part of who I was; this was probably my fault, as I never let anyone completely in, never let myself be completely open and vulnerable, so I couldn’t blame her for not understanding my reasons for taking things slow. But somehow Liam understood.

  Well, I can’t let her get under my skin now. I needed to get excited for the date. Worry and dread started to ease their way back into my head. Why can’t I just feel overwhelmed with excitement?

  23

  “How was yesterday?” Liam asked.

  “It was fine. Did laundry and cleaned a little.” I didn’t tell him about the part where I agonized about wanting to see him, touch his hand again, and smell his clean scent. Sigh…he looked good. His hair was combed back, set in a soft hold. I wanted to run my fingers through each strand and feel the texture against my skin.

  When he greeted me I noticed his smile, as he looked me over, sending goose bumps across my skin. I couldn’t help but feel pleased.

  “So, where are we going for the walk?” I was curious if it would be another new place, or if maybe he finally ran out of new places to take me.

  “I’m going to take you to a place that I go to when I want to escape and get away. A place that I run. I think you’ll like it.”

  I noticed the sign first—Lake Murray—it was painted in faded blue on a worn piece of wood. The clear blue water sparkled, like millions of tiny diamonds shimmering under the morning light, and I was breathless. The air was crisp. The last of the morning dew had faded, and some early-risers had already staked out a place to cast their fishing rods from the shoreline. People ranging all fitness levels and ages were jogging, biking, walking, and strolling along the wide, even track encircling the lake.

  “Wow, it’s beautiful.”

  He grinned, “Yeah, but not as beautiful as you.” His eyes were sincere and heavy with warmth. I believed him but I still felt doubtful.

  “Thanks,” I said softly.

  Thankfully he changed the subject. “I thought you’d like it here. It’s a nice place to go for a run, but don’t worry—we’re just going to take a little stroll today.” He winked as he glanced toward my flip-flops. I invariably wore the wrong type of shoe.

  “Well, I don’t think I’d be able to run anyways.”

  “Oh?” His eyes lit up. He seemed to crave learning new facts about me.

  “Yea, I’m not much of a runner. Actually, I wish I was good at it, it seems very rewarding. But I get worn out and tired easily, especially after a short run or jog.

  “Hmm. I see.” He seemed to be contemplating this for a while and then noted, “Do you think it has anything to do with your VSD?”

  I was surprised he remembered. I told him about the defect briefly on our coffee date. “Huh. I’ve never thought about that. I guess that’s possible.”

  “Well, then we’ll just keep it at a gentle walk. Sound good?”

  “Okay.”

  As we walked, I noticed the ducks swimming in the lake and the birds singing in the trees. Liam knew, by name, all the types of trees, ducks, and birds that inhabited the area. Most of all he loved the trees.

  As we passed by he pointed and exclaimed, “There’s Eucalyptus camaldulensis. Oh and there’s Tamarix ramosissima, Salix gooddingii, and more Eucalyptus citriodora.” He told me that the reason why all the Eucalyptus here were so tall and wispy was because they were growing too close together and were often flooded by the lake when the water rose in the winter.

  I found out that Populus fremontii (Western Cottonwood) made his favorite sound in the world. That made me smile. Who has a favorite sound? He said he liked the way the leaves rustled in the wind due to their flat petioles. He went on to describe their unique side-to-side waver—making a “so-so” gesture with his hand to demonstrate.

  Throughout my unexpected botany lesson, I quickly observed his passion for the environment. For being open to the public, the area was clean and well maintained but of course there was the occasional candy wrapper or plastic bottle thrown carelessly, a few feet from the bright blue trashcan. I watched, amazed, as Liam casually bent over to pick them up, dumping them in the next available trashcan. He had a large heart, filled with more compassion than most have in their little finger.

  We stopped at a stone bench a couple miles in, which was marked by generations of hearts, initials, and love notes. We sat for a while, taking it all in: the calmness, the exquisite natural beauty, the soft chirps of the birds, and the fluttering of ducks’ wings as they dove down below. The water’s edge lapped near our feet as we sat there, inches apart. The breeze cooled the prickling sweat from our backs. Liam’s hand met mine, first awkward and stiff but as he entwined his fingers through mine, the awkwardness faded; then he slowly, passionately, moved his thumb inward to have contact with my palm and gingerly rubbed it like he did during the movie. The small movement frightened me, not because it hurt—no it didn’t hurt, it felt nice, good—but because it felt too good. We didn’t speak, we just absorbed.

  After a while, we rose and continued our loop around the lake. While walking, our conversation picked back up. I learned that he used to play baseball and was good enough to contemplate trying out for the pros (he probably would look good in the uniform). I learned that he used to be depressed, so much so that everyone he loved was worried about him. I learned that his parents’ divorce crippled him into an even more depressed state. I learned that his favorite color was green, that he dreamed of traveling around the world, wanted to learn more languages, wanted to own a house by the time he turned twenty-eight (a random age, most people would choose a round number like thirty), and above all, he looked forward to becoming a wonderful grandfather. (Wait, doesn’t he have to be a father first?)

  In just a few weeks, I learned so much about him and he about me; wanting to know more, craving to know everything. I even started noticing his tiny inflections when he looked at me, the way I made him nervous each time I caught him looking my way, and the way he lit up, eyes softening, when he talked about his grandfather.

  My feet were throbbing by the time we got back to the car. Feeling the tender spots where my skin was rubbed raw. We took a moment, overlooking the lake—we were up the hill now, the entire lake spread out below our feet—soaking up the beauty. I sighed and he made his next move.

  He let go of my sweaty hand and abruptly placed his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to his side. The move was so fast that he pinned my right arm. His hold was strong and the position uncomfortable—I felt myself tipping slightly forward. I decided he wasn’t planning to let go anytime soon; if I wanted to make this more pleasant, I would have to wiggle out from his hold and place my arm around his waist, like a drawn out sideways hug. After much contemplation I made my move. It felt more comfortable. It just felt right. I could feel his breath quicken and his heart thud with each beat. My stomach tightened in response and I could feel myself longing for more, to stay there forever.

  “I guess we should head back,” Liam said.

  I forgot about the dreaded winter quarter, which was starting tomorrow. He definitely would want to be prepared for it. I understood. But at that moment I was feeling selfish and I wanted to hold him there, make him stay with me longer. I was sure if I asked he would have stayed, but that would be wrong of me to do so. I kept quiet and just nodded.

  After he dropped me off, I turned on my computer and waited, like a loyal dog that painstakingly waits for its owner to return, to hear from Liam.

  Half an hour later I happily read Liam’s new message:

  January 8, 2006 2:54 PM

  Subject: Hey

  Body:

  Hi Sophie,

  Thanks for hanging out today…it was nice and relaxing to spend some time at the lake, and of course, it’s always nice to spend time with you.

  Good luck with school this week!

  Talk to you soon,

  Liam

  Easily now, I eagerly responded:

  January 8, 2006 3:03 PM

&
nbsp; Subject: RE: Hey

  Body:

  Hi Liam,

  I also had a great time today. It’s a great place for a walk. Just next time I have to remember to wear tennis shoes.

  I hope your first day back to UCSD goes well. Tell me how it went. -Soph

  The first day of Winter Quarter dragged on. More classes I didn’t want, and more teachers I couldn’t understand. I could feel myself looking for him everywhere—in the lecture halls, along library walk, in the bookstore, by the library—but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “Idiot,” I thought to myself. UC San Diego is a large campus and since I didn’t know his schedule, chances would be slim-to-none that I would run into him today. But I couldn’t help but hope. I gave up and texted him instead:

  How’s your classes going?

  That was lame. Ugh, I was unraveling to the core. The more I tried to divert my attention elsewhere, the more it came back to Liam. I felt pathetic.

  Liam’s message for me was waiting in my Inbox when I got home:

  January 9, 2006 10:11 PM

  Subject: Yaaaay! First Day of School!

  Body:

  Hi Sophie,

  Thanks for the text message…you are so thoughtful! It makes me feel good to know you are thinking of me; I think of you often during the day and it always makes me feel so happy! :)