Immediately I know it’s not a concert that we are seeing when I spot a barely clothed man, with the exception of horns, pointy ears and some carefully placed leaves.
“Puck.” I smile. It would be impossible for me not to recognize the shrewd, yet mischievous sprite made famous in one of my favorite Shakespeare plays.
“We’re seeing a Midsummer Night’s Dream.” I say, excitedly because I know there’s no question about it.
A young man appears, quietly says a few words to Logan, and then asks us both to take a seat. Logan takes my hand and we sit so our sides our touching on the long wooden seat.
“Logan, this place is amazing. I feel like I’m in a dream. It’s just so…so enchanting. Where are we? I find it hard to believe we are in Los Angeles.”
He grins and leans closer, wrapping his arm around me. “It’s called the Will Geer Theatricum. It is pretty amazing, isn’t it? I know what you mean about it being hard to believe we’re in L.A.”
I nod. “It’s like another world…I feel like I’ve been transported into Shakespearean times. You were right about me loving this.” I beam.
At that moment, the play opens with Theseus awaiting his wedding to Hippolyta.
Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour draws on apace; four happy days bring in another moon, but O, methinks, how slow this old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, like to a step-dame or a dowager. Long withering out a young man revenue.
The play follows the adventures of four young Athenian lovers, a group of amateur actors, and their interactions with woodland fairies, a duke and a duchess. Since the story takes place in an enchanted forest with star-crossed lovers as well as fairies, wood sprites and elves, seeing the play in this magical setting gives it all a slightly surreal feeling.
It’s one of Shakespeare’s comedies with exaggerated characters that are trying to find their way in life and in love with hilarious complications. Puck is one of my all time favorite characters from all of Shakespeare’s plays. I love his sentiment that falling in love can make fools of us all.
I am mesmerized by it: the setting, the play, the costumes, the acting, everything. But what I’m even more overwhelmed by is that this is the most thoughtful and romantic gesture I could ever imagine in all my life.
Watching the play in silence, except for when we laugh at certain developments in the plot, Logan keeps me close at his side. His fingers occasionally skim the back of my neck or the middle of my thigh, the spot where my hem of the bottom of my mini dress hits my leg.
The play is coming to a close when Logan releases my hand and drapes it around my shoulder, his thumb slowly stroking my back. His gentle touch sends delicious tremors all over my body.
He leans and kisses me, just below my ear. “I’m looking forward to our drive home together.”
My eyes glance at him. “Me too.” I mouth over the closing of the play.
Gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck now to ‘scrape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends are long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.
Instead of immediately heading back to Santa Barbara, we drive about a minute to another magical spot. The brass sign over the rustic pergola reads: The Inn of the Seventh Ray. The restaurant is in the same idyllic setting as the theatre. The secluded wooden pavilion is covered with twinkling lights twined around large lush trees…the perfect romantic destination for Valentine’s Day.
The tables are scattered throughout the indoor area as well as on the tranquil outdoor patio giving it an even more intimate vibe. Without saying a word, we head to a secluded table beneath an old sycamore tree.
After looking at the menu, we stare at each other, both my hands folded in his, with our elbows on the table.
“Would you like an appetizer?” He asks, leaning forward.
“No, thanks. I think I’ll just have the salmon.” I smile, slightly. “You know you never did tell me what you were wearing last night.” I say, softly.
He pauses a minute and I think maybe he doesn’t remember our texts, but then he squeezes my hand, knowingly. “I’ll show you after we eat.”
“Promise?” I whisper.
At that moment the waitress comes and takes our order, interrupting our rather private conversation. I order the Wild Caught Sockeye Salmon, while Logan gets the Miso Braised Short Rib. She turns to leave and we return to our previous position with my hands in his across the table.
“I look forward to it.” He leans over and softly kisses my knuckles.
“You know, I will always remember this day. The limo, the play, the venue, this restaurant, – everything has been perfect. Thank you for making it all so special. I mean it. I’ll never forget it.” I smile.
“I’m glad. I wanted it to be as special as you are to me.” He murmurs.
“Have you been to that theatre before or this restaurant?” I ask, a bit reluctantly because I’m not sure I want to hear the answer despite knowing he’s adamant he didn’t date before.
“No. First time. I knew I wanted to take you to see a Shakespeare play. When I started looking into different theatres I read about this one and it sounded perfect. I had heard about this restaurant a while back…it’s one of LA’s most romantic spots.”
“It is.” I agree. “It’s lovely and so secluded.” I take a sip of water. “I loved the play too…of course A Midsummer is one of my favorites.”
I continue. “I remember going on a field trip in elementary school to the Folger Theatre…I think that’s what it was called. Anyway, it was in D.C. and we saw Romeo and Juliet. It’s a beautiful theatre, but seeing A Midsummer Night’s Dream ensconced in nature like this is quite an experience.”
“You must have been pretty young when you saw the play in D.C.” He smiles, leaning over the table towards me more.
“I was and I can barely remember it. I mostly remember the theatre. At the time I thought the play was too depressing. Of course, I like it more now, but back then I wanted the happily ever after. I hated sad endings. Actually, I still hate them now, but at least, I can appreciate them.”
“I know what you mean…too many sad endings in real life.” He says, quietly.
Opening a bottle of Chardonnay, our waitress has returned, she pours it into the two crystal glasses and quickly retreats.
“To happy endings.” Logan holds out his glass towards mine.
“I’ll definitely drink to that.” I clink his glass and we take a sip of the light, crisp wine.
“Did you ever see a Shakespeare play when you were younger? I think it’s almost a requirement for most elementary schools. I’m certain I was one of the only students who was actually excited about that field trip.” I smile.
Logan listens, intently, but I know he switched schools often. He probably didn’t get to experience typical school activities.
“No. I usually was in detention…and if I wasn’t in detention I was either getting suspended or expelled. Field trips and Shakespeare plays were definitely not on my agenda.”
“Sounds lonely.” I whisper, woefully.
“It was…I didn’t realize it at first, but eventually I felt empty, miserable. It’s an odd feeling. You’re out partying with people you think are friends…you’re surrounded by people, but you are really alone. It probably doesn’t make sense.”
“It does.” My voice is soft. “I felt alone too, but for different reasons. I understand what you’re saying. Do you think it was just your way of coping with everything that was going on at home? With your parents not getting along and everything?”
He stares at me for a moment. His expression is soft, somber.
I add. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have brought this up. I know it was a bad time for you. I’m just trying to get to know you more, but I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.” I murmur.
“No. It’s fine. I was just
thinking about what you said. I don’t think about that time much. I think I’m like you in that way…I tend to block those painful memories out too. It’s a much easier way to go through life. You build this wall up and keep it all out, but you’re the first person who has ever wanted to know about it.”
“And as difficult as it might be, I think you have to let the wall down to properly heal and to move on.” I smile, reassuringly.
“I’m sure you’re right.” He pauses. “I think it was a way of coping with everything…like you said. On the outside I’m sure it looked like we had it all, but it was all so unstable. I’m sure partying was an escape…that and it didn’t help that I was hanging out with the wrong crowd.”
I think about how hanging out with the wrong crowd has affected Logan since I’ve known him. Succumbing to peer pressure can be a dangerous thing when you’re hanging out with people who have seriously bad habits. The expression pops into my head: with friends like these, who needs enemies.
“I’m glad your parents are happier now and things are better. It must have been hard to be going through all of that and not having anyone to turn to…anyone to understand or help.” I stare into his eyes.
“Sure. It would have been nice, but they were dealing with their own issues and I was constantly disappointing them. It was a bit of a lethal combination…hard to help someone when you’re partly responsible for it.” He shrugs. “You and I both had to learn to take care of ourselves. Although in your case, it wasn’t at all your dad’s fault. I can’t imagine losing a parent like that and then going through what you were dealing with.”
“It was hard…it still is, but you know…you have to go on…as painful as it may be. There was no option for me, but to pick up the pieces and move on. As much as I would have preferred to curl up into a ball, my dad needed me. I couldn’t wallow in self-pity.”
“If anyone had the right to wallow in self-pity it would be you, Emilia. But that’s part of your allure. After all you’ve been through…you are…without a doubt…the strongest person I know, someone who will stand up to me and I like that. You can’t imagine how boring it gets when girls will do or say whatever they think you want to hear. You’re not like that…you’re sweet and caring. And what makes you even more alluring is that you’re so innocent, but at the same time so incredibly strong. It’s quite a powerful combination.”
We stare at each other. “I want to ask you something, but I’m worried you might be offended.” I say, nervously.
He immediately bursts out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, totally confused.
“Within the first few minutes of meeting me, you told me I was cocky…very cocky if my memory serves me right.” He pauses for brief minute, probably to make his point.
I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
He continues. “And, now…after we know quite a bit more about each other you are worried I might be offended. I find that very funny.”
I smile at his playful mood. “I’m glad you think it’s funny, but really I’m serious. I don’t want you to be offended.”
He stifles another laugh, leans forward and kisses my hand. “I’m a big boy. You can ask me whatever you want and I promise I won’t get offended. Just don’t say I’m cocky because that really hurts my feelings.” He laughs again.
I laugh along with him. “Very funny.”
“You reminded me of something. My mom still wants a copy of that interview. You think you can get her one?”
“Um. No.” I laugh, shyly.
“Emilia, you shouldn’t be embarrassed about it. Of course I thought you were gorgeous, but…I’ve told you this…I also loved the fact that you said what was on your mind. It was refreshing to the say the least. No girl had ever spoken to me like that before.” He leans and kisses my hand.
He continues. “You didn’t care about offending me and I liked that you challenged me. Your honesty cut to the quick and unlike most girls, you didn’t give a shit about impressing me. I knew, immediately, that I wanted you. I found you completely irresistible.”
The waitress is back at our table with our food. It looks delicious and suddenly, I realize how hungry I am, remembering I haven’t eaten anything since early this morning and that was a small yogurt and a cup of coffee.
We eat in silence for a few minutes as we share each other’s food and sip our wine. The restaurant is busy, but it’s surprisingly quiet…just the sound of nature surrounding us.
“Are those frogs I hear?” I smile.
He nods. “Did you know the sounds they make are a part of their courtship and mating rituals?” He asks, in a matter of fact tone.
I laugh. “Seriously? I thought it was just their way of communicating to each other.”
“It is, but it’s for sex.” He smiles. “The male frog croaks to attract the female. I remember reading female frogs find it very sexy.”
I laugh out loud. “Come, on. How do you know that?” I pause. “Did you put the frogs out there to add to the ambience?”
He chuckles. “No. I can’t take credit for that.”
“I’m glad you told me the frogs are trying to get lucky at the end of dinner rather than at the beginning. Thank you for that wonderful image.”
“Ha…you’re welcome.” He pauses a beat. “I heard the crème brulee here is excellent. I hope you don’t mind I ordered it…you have to order it in advance.”
“Sounds delicious, although I would certainly be happy with having dessert in the limo.” I say, brazenly and lick the upper corner of my lip with the tip of my tongue.
“We can always have seconds.” He says, staring at my lips.
When we finish eating our entrees, the waitress returns with the crème brulee and two spoons for dessert. The almond milk crème brulee is made with soaked, whizzed almonds and served with organic berries. It tastes divine.
Logan gazes at me while I lick my spoon, enjoying the rich dessert. He runs his fingers along his jaw.
“Would you like anything else?” He asks. His eyes are on mine.
“No. Thank you. Everything was delicious.” I smile.
He hands the waitress his credit card.
“We’re going to have that lovely drive back soon so would you like to ask me your earlier question and I promise I won’t make any jokes and I won’t be offended.” He smiles.
“Might not be in the mood to talk later?” I gaze at him as he takes my hand in his.
“I’ll be in the mood for whatever you’re in the mood for, Emilia.” He says, quietly as he strokes my knuckles with his thumb.
“I’m in the mood now.” I lift a brow.
Logan leans forward and run his fingers along my jaw. “I am too, but I want you to ask me your question. If there’s something on your mind, I want you to be able to ask me about it. I know I’ll be distracted later so I’d prefer you ask me now. Then we can go. Okay?”
I nod. “I was wondering…I’ve been wondering…how is it possible that you can drink? And, you always seem fine when you drink. You never drink too much and I just wonder…” I ramble, uncomfortably not wanting to insult him, without making much sense.
He finishes my question. “You want to know how it’s possible for me to drink and not have it spiral it to something more or do you want to know if it’s safe for me to drink without it turning into a problem?”
I nod.
“Both?” He asks, amused. “I’m not offended, Emilia.”
I let out a breath. “I’m relieved. I just don’t know how that works and honestly, it amazes me that you can drink and not have it be an issue. In the past, I’ve been known to get quite tipsy and you are always so in control.”
“I like it when you’re tipsy.” He smiles. “I enjoyed those times when I got to carry you after you had one too many margaritas.”
“Exactly. You didn’t know me very well…you probably thought I had a problem.”
“I never thought that…I think people have conflicting thought
s on whether or not an addict should drink. I can drink in moderation and have it not be a problem. It depends on the person just like with anything. I can drink small amounts, but I know for some addicts it doesn’t work that way. It’s kind of all or nothing. For some, drinking increases their desire for drugs and that’s obviously a problem. For me, I can drink beer and wine every now and then and it doesn’t make me want to go get high. It probably helps I’m in your company and not in the company of others who are using.”
“That makes sense.” I frown.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
“I just don’t want to lose you to that.” I murmur.
He squeezes my hand. “You won’t. I know now I was throwing my life away. I didn’t care much about my future until I met you. And, then when I lost you…I knew I couldn’t live without you. Don’t you see, Emilia? You are my new addiction.”
I smile and whisper. “And, you are mine.”
THE LIMOUSINE PARTITION IS UP, when we slide back onto the sleek leather seat, ensuring our privacy. Logan switches on the built-in iPod and the soft music of Snow Patrol fills the car.
“Do you mind if I take my shoes off?” I say while I’m already in the process of slipping my wedges off.
“Take whatever you want off.” He smirks.
I laugh. “You certainly don’t have a problem saying whatever is on your mind, do you?”
He leans back, pulling my legs up onto his lap. “Does it bother you?”
“No. I like your honesty.”
“You do, do you? So, I think you wanted to know what I was wearing last night when you were texting me.” He stares at me as he slowly starts to unbutton his shirt. “Is that right?”
I smile, sweetly at him. “I’ll do that.” And, I take over where he has left off on his shirt.
Logan clasps my face with both hands as he leans and kisses me deeply. My fingers work there way down his shirt and then when the last button is off I slide it off his shoulders, down his arms. His hands wander up my dress.
Waiting for Romeo Page 24
