Roman and Jewel

by Dana L. Davis

  “Ahhh. I remember now. Of course.” She laughs and turns to me. “Well, let me know if you need anything else, Patti.” She sets the check on the table.

  “Wait.” Zeppelin grabs the check and reaches into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve his wallet. He slides out two twenties and hands them and the check to Marta. “Tieni il resto, va bene?”

  “Grazie.” She playfully ruffles his mess of hair and moves off.

  “Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome, Patti LuPone.”

  “Don’t judge me. Your name’s not exactly Zeppelin Reid. It’s Luciano Ricci.”

  “Reid is my middle name. Zeppelin is what everyone has always called me. Now. Please explain how you’re here right now? Stalking me. With a phone that’s clearly not dead.”

  “So, uh.” I stare down at the plates of desserts. “The short version of this is that my aunt really is working across the street. Me being here is totally random.”

  “Riveting. Go on.”

  There’s not a ton of light shining through the window because of the setting sun, but the amusement in Zeppelin’s eyes seems highlighted for some reason.

  “So I came here,” I continue. “Randomly.”

  “Yeah. I get that.”

  “I heard you and that guy in the back.”

  “My uncle.”

  “Yeah. Him. Anyway, I asked Marta about you.”

  “My cousin.”

  “Yeah. She told me your name and stuff like that.”

  “Stalker.”

  “I was just curious!”

  “I think ‘I was just curious’ is in the stalker oath.” He leans back. “Are you gonna eat all this?”

  In fact, my appetite has gone completely out the door. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.” He takes a fork from off the table and digs in to my cake. I watch the muscles in his jaw as he chews. He even looks good when he eats. “Find out anything interesting about me?”

  “Only that you lie.”

  “You found out I’m a liar?”

  “Well, you’re on social media. You said you weren’t.”

  “Haven’t been on social media for years. That’s the truth. Those accounts are all old.”

  “Are you a model or something?”

  “Used to do runway. Hated it. A lot. I quit a couple years ago. It wasn’t like I was very good at it anyway.” He takes another bite of cake. “My uncle’s the best baker in New York City. You should eat some of this food you ordered.”

  I grab a fork and decide to do just that. I dig into the tiniest section of the slice of cake. It basically melts in my mouth. Forget the city, his uncle might be the best baker in the state. I haven’t tasted a cake this good since we got invited to a fancy wedding in the Hamptons two years ago, and the cake was made by that spiky-haired guy from all the Food Network shows.

  Zeppelin switches to the gelato, using a clean spoon he grabs off the table to taste the strawberry. “Anything else you find out?”

  I take my own spoon and dig into the strawberry gelato as well. It’s ice-cold and creamy. I can taste tiny bits of crushed strawberries. It’s like somebody picked the fruit this morning from a nearby farm. So incredibly fresh. I relax a bit. “I read about your mom.”

  Zeppelin exhales.

  “I’m really sorry that happened.”

  “Would you like to know why she threw herself into the River Arno like something out of a Gianni Schicchi opera?”

  “We don’t have to talk about it. It seems very personal. I only wanted you to know I saw it. It felt like I should admit that.”

  “I don’t mind talking about it,” he says. “When I was twelve, we were on a family holiday in Tuscany and there was a boating accident. Afterward, she couldn’t work anymore. At least not doing what she’d always done. She was an opera star in Naples.”

  “Is that where you grew up?”

  “I like to say I grew up in the backstage of an opera house.” He digs his spoon into the chocolate gelato now. “But yeah, Naples was home.”

  I lean back in the booth. “Do you miss it?”

  “Not really. Being there just makes me sad. Without her career, my mom was depressed. It got pretty bad. Meanwhile, my dad had a work opportunity in the States. He’s a lawyer. He moved us all here, to New York. A lot of our family was already living in Bay Ridge, so it sorta made sense for us to move. It meant he’d get more help with Mom. With us.” He pauses to heave a heavy sigh. “She did start to get better. Her doctors were amazed. She was gaining mobility. Singing... a little bit anyway. But it didn’t take long for my dad to get real tired of being her caretaker. He was cheating on her when he filed for divorce. But that’s not even the worst part. When the divorce was finalized, Dad won full custody of me and my sister.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “Yes. Ava.”

  Ava—the love of his life. It’s his sister.

  “After losing us, Mom flew home to live with family and in a rare moment when no one was with her, she drowned herself.”

  I’ve suddenly lost my appetite again. I set down my spoon and search for words, but none seem fitting or adequate.

  Zeppelin continues. “He married the girlfriend, now known as my evil stepmother. They have two terrible children together. Anastasia and Drizella.”

  “Anastasia and Drizella?” I smile. “Seriously?”

  He laughs. “Okay, fine. They’re not named after the evil stepsisters in Cinderella. But they should be.” He pauses to stare out the window and I realize the laissez-faire attitude he seems to maintain isn’t laissez-faire at all. It’s a weight. It’s...sadness. “But then there is Ava.” He sighs.

  “You guys must be really close.”

  “We always have been, yeah.” His eyes darken. “But I haven’t seen her in a year. He monitors her every move. She’s fifteen now. Not allowed anywhere near me.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “Zeppelin. I’m so sorry.”

  “Me, too, Jerzie.” He sets down his spoon, and in an instant, the cloud that suddenly appeared is gone and he’s back to having the charming glint in his eye. “Anything else I can clear up?”

  Hmm. Is there? “Not really, I guess. What’s it like dating Cinny?”

  “You’d have to ask someone who’s dating her. Try Shivers.”

  “Wait.” I study his expression. Eyebrows raised. Jaw clenched. “You’re not dating Cinny?”

  “Do you think we’re dating because I was kissing her today? You do realize that’s in the script, right? Like, I’m contractually obligated to kiss her.”

  I think back to my conversation with Cinny at the studios. She said they were a thing.

  Zeppelin leans forward. “Cinny’s not my type.”

  I eye him suspiciously. “If beautiful, rich, successful, and talented isn’t your type, then what is?”

  “How tall are you?”

  “Huh? I’m five-five.”

  “My type? Girls who are five-five.” He smiles. “With beautiful brown skin, pretty curly hair, and a voice like an angel. And if they’re named after the state they live in? Bonus.”

  I cock my head. “Whatever, Zeppelin.”

  “I love how you say my name. With three syllables. Most people call me Zep-plin. You with your Jersey accent, you call me Zep-pa-lin. It’s kind of adorable.”

  I nervously pull at my ponytail. “Stop messing with me.”

  “I’m not messing with you. I like you.”

  I place my hands over my cheeks to cool them down. He really does like me.

  “You put your hands on your cheeks when you’re nervous.” He puts both hands on his own cheeks, imitating me. “It’s cute.”

  Oh my God. Now I place a hand over my stoma
ch. Butterflies. They’re swarming again. I’m gonna need insecticide for these things. I’m sick.

  He runs a hand through his hair, holding it off his face for a moment. “I do like you, Jerzie. I liked you from the moment I first saw you.”

  “Maybe you just felt sorry for me,” I whisper. “You know, after clobbering me over the head.”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “That wasn’t the first time I saw you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had to meet up with Nigel about a month ago. He was at Beaumont Theater.”

  Beaumont was where I had all my private rehearsals to learn the songs. Sometimes Nigel would be there. Doing whatever production assistants seem to always be doing. Running here. Running there.

  “When I got there, I saw you,” Zeppelin says.

  I don’t know why this story is making my heart beat so fast. Zeppelin saw me? “What was I doing?”

  “You were standing next to the piano. Singing ‘I Defy.’”

  “Can’t believe I didn’t see you.”

  “I watched you for a bit. You didn’t know I was there, standing at the door. I even came in and sat in the back until you finished.”

  And I never saw him? How could I have been so blind?

  “You never saw me,” he says, as if reading my mind. “Afterward, I asked Nigel who you were. He told me. So when I saw you in the stairwell the other day, I was so happy. I’d been waiting for you to show up. I missed you. Silly, huh? How can you miss someone you don’t really even know? But I did.”

  This can’t be real. I press a finger against my wrist. Pulse is intact. I’m alive. Good.

  “Jerzie.” Zeppelin’s gaze causes me to shift nervously in my seat. “Don’t tell me I’m alone in what I’m feeling. I’m not. Right? You like me, too?”

  There are so many things I want to say in return. But I don’t know how to say them! I’ve been ordered to stay away from you. That would be a good opener. Followed by, I think it’s for the best. I nod. Yeah. That says it all. Besides, I’m Mercutio’s mute page and he was never an integral part of this story! Mostly, this isn’t sensible, Zeppelin. Because I promised Cinny I’d stay away from you and I’m a woman of my word. That’s what I need to say. I, dear Zeppelin, am sensible. I mean, I really am. So, I’m sorry. Like, I’m so, so sorry.

  “Jerzie.” Zeppelin’s expression clouds with worry. “Say something. Please.”

  Here goes nothing. “Zeppelin.” I pause, reaching up to touch the bruise left on my forehead from when the door hit me and he magically appeared in my life. I heave the heaviest of sighs. “It was really, really hard watching you kiss Cinny today.” Wait. That’s not what I was supposed to say!

  He slides out of the booth and into the seat beside me and takes both of my hands in his so that I turn to face him. “It was really, really hard to do that today. I knew you were watching, and it was making me sick to think it might be hurting you. That’s why I came looking for you.” He lifts his hand to touch my cheek, long enough to make my heart flutter in my chest. Maybe it skipped a beat. Maybe it’s not beating at all. “You were crying in the stairwell, weren’t you?”

  I nod.

  “I’m sorry it hurt you.”

  I reach up and push a strand of hair away from his eyes. It feels soft, like threads of silk.

  He smiles. No, it’s more than a smile. He’s basically beaming like a ray of sunshine. “What are you doing right now? Come spend the night with me.”

  Say what! “Spend the night with you?”

  He laughs. “I mean. Spend time with me. Hang out with me.”

  “Zeppelin.” I chew on my bottom lip, contemplating the best way to say this. Finally I settle on the one word that can properly articulate the big problem here. “Cinny.”

  “She said something to you today?” He rests his hand on my knee. Of course his hand feels so warm. So comforting. A sensation is growing in me that I’ve not felt before. It’s intoxicating. I’ve never had alcohol, but I imagine being drunk feels a little something like this. “Tell me what she said.”

  “Basically, to stay away from you. She said there was something between you two. Why does she think there’s something between you two if there’s nothing?”

  “Honestly?” He shakes his head. “Who the hell knows? Cinny liking me feels a lot like you two being best friends.”

  “Which we aren’t.”

  “Exactly. We’ve been working together for weeks, and suddenly she’s into me? I’ve never been anything to Cinny but professional and friendly. Let me talk to her. I’ll tell her how I feel about you.”

  “No. Zeppelin, I wanna keep peace.”

  “But I want her to know—”

  “Please, Zeppelin.”

  “Fine.” He sighs. “We’ll keep peace, Jerzie.”

  “Promise you won’t say anything?”

  “I promise.” He squeezes my hand. “And you still haven’t told me what song makes you cry. I need to put the city on alert.”

  There are so many sweet melodies that bring tears to my eyes. But maybe one song rises above all the others. “‘Maybe This Time.’ But only when Liza Minnelli sings it.”

  “I like Cabaret. It’s a cool musical. But now I shall never watch it again.”

  “Alan was wrong.” I smile. “You’re not new.”

  “Alan called me new?”

  “After they told me I was Cinny’s standby, I asked who was Roman. Alan said, ‘Zeppelin Reid. He’s new.’ But you’re not new. You grew up onstage. You know music. This is like...your destiny.”

  “Destiny.” He leans forward, resting his forehead against mine, taking both my hands into his, warming me with his touch. “I like that word.”

  We sit this way for a few seconds, the temperature between us rising with each passing second, until we hear someone clearing their throat and look up to see Aunt Karla standing in front of the booth, her eyes open superwide at the sight of us together.

  “Well, okay then. Hello, Jerzie and Zeppelin.”

  “Oh. Hi.” I pull my hands away from Zeppelin. “I sorta ran into him.”

  “Yes. My vision is intact. I can see that.” Aunt Karla smirks.

  “My family owns this restaurant,” Zeppelin adds, sounding nervous. “Would you like something? It’s on me.”

  “That’s awfully sweet of you, but I can’t stay.” Aunt Karla motions to me. “I was coming to tell you it’s gonna be a long one. The buyer’s insisting I stay for dinner to ‘hear her out.’ I feel bad you having to wait.” She looks at Zeppelin. “But apparently you know how to keep yourself entertained.”

  “Could she come with me?” Zeppelin asks.

  “Come with you where?” Aunt Karla asks. “Your apartment?”

  “No. I was thinking we could walk across the Brooklyn Bridge,” Zeppelin replies respectfully. “Look out at the water. Superchill. Totally innocent. Very far away from my apartment.”

  “Brooklyn Bridge, huh?” Aunt Karla sucks her teeth. “Jerzie has an 11:00 p.m. curfew.”

  “I’ll make sure I’m home before curfew,” I blurt. Wait. What is wrong with me? I’m agreeing to this?!

  Aunt Karla seems to relax. A bit anyway. “How are you two getting to the Brooklyn Bridge from here?”

  “My...motorcycle?” Zeppelin asks.

  “Nope.” Aunt Karla makes the noise a buzzer makes when a contestant on a game show gets the answer wrong. “Try again.”

  “Ride share,” Zeppelin says definitively.

  “More like it. All right. Sounds like a safe enough date.” Aunt Karla studies Zeppelin. “Don’t let me down, okay? Take good care of her, or I’ll put a hit out on you. I got people in low places that aren’t afraid of a life sentence. They got nothing to live for. Remember that.”

  Aunt Karla isn’t lying about that. She points to me.<
br />
  “Outside, Jerzie. Let’s chat before you go.”

  * * *

  “I told you that boy liked you,” Aunt Karla says as we stand on the busy street corner.

  “I guess you were right.”

  “And you trying to pretend you didn’t like him, too, was your worst acting to date.”

  I bite my lip. Didn’t realize I was such a bad actor.

  “But are you sure you wanna spend the summer fighting with Cinny over a boy?”

  “Aren’t you the one who said you would’ve told her to go straight to hell?”

  “I’m different than you, Jerzie. I’ve never been afraid of a little controversy. But if Cinny finds out you were with him tonight, you gonna start an all-out war. For some reason, she’s staked her claim on him.”

  “She won’t find out. We’re gonna make sure of it. Zeppelin wants to keep peace, too.”

  “If y’all say so,” Aunt Karla says. “And please do what you’re telling me. Don’t lie to me. He seems nice and all, but he’s a boy. With a penis.”

  “Aunt Karla!”

  “I’m serious. Keep it all PG, and it’ll be better for everyone involved. I’ll text your mom and let her know I’m letting you go.” She bops me on the nose. “And, Jerzie.”

  “Yes, Aunt Karla.”

  “Have fun, okay?”

  I smile for real. I’m about to spend an evening with Zeppelin Reid. How could I not?

  “Give Me My Romeo”

  Walking down the busy street in Bay Ridge, alone again with Zeppelin, I’m reminded of the fact that I’ve never been on a date before. Are we supposed to hold hands? Walk arm in arm? I swear he can read my mind, because out of nowhere he grabs my hand and interlocks his fingers between mine as we approach a lime-green and black street bike that’s parked down the block from his family’s restaurant.

  “This is my bike. I can’t leave it here though. It’ll get towed.” He turns to me. “What if you stayed at the restaurant? My family will get you anything you want while I take it home and change into something I didn’t wear to rehearsal, and then I’ll come back to get you. That cool?”

  I pull on the straps of my backpack, wishing I had a change of clothes, too. I’m still dressed in my yoga pants and T-shirt, and no doubt Zeppelin’s about to get all fancied up in designer clothes.