Cerulean (Book one in series)

by A. L. Singer

  Chapter 3

  Slowly walking down the hall to the kitchen, I listened for the voices I’d heard before. But I heard none now. As I reached the kitchen I just stood there. Was everyone gone? No fussing, no scolding, or pity-filled eyes. I wondered if they were just quietly sitting in the other room. Sorin cleared his throat as he entered the opposite doorway. “Is everyone in the other room?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t true.

  “No. …Everyone has left.” He paused and tilted his head slightly. A few wrinkles appeared on his forehead. “It is what you wanted, is it not, Mia?” he asked.

  It was what I wanted—all that I wanted—to be alone. To just climb into bed down the hall and never leave it. I shrugged and crossed to the island filled with fruit and pastries from the coffee shop and bakery my mother used to help run. I looked up at Sorin as he moved to join me. “Yes, it is what I wanted … to be alone.”

  He stopped and turned back to the doorway. “I will leave you then.” He sounded hurt or betrayed, or maybe both. It caught me by surprise. I hadn’t wanted him to leave; I just didn’t want the mama bears fussing over me. I wanted to ask him to talk some more about my mother. Hear something that she had never told me. Plus, the thought of being truly alone for the first time in days made me shudder. The past few days people had come and gone, called nonstop. My uncle had even taken the upstairs guest room the last few nights. I was relieved when I saw him pack before leaving for the funeral home. Someone had always been in the house with me. But now that I’d actually left my parents in the cemetery, it had come to an end. No more food being dropped off, no more friends of my parents stopping by to say how sorry they were. No more waiting to see them one last time to say good-bye. My father’s casket was closed because of the head trauma. I could have seen my mother’s face one more time. Dying of internal bleeding made an open casket viewing possible. I had been told she looked beautiful. But I couldn’t bring myself to go to see her for myself. After days of waiting to see them, I hadn’t. Setting white roses on each of their caskets at the burial and whispering good-bye was all I could do. I wanted my last images of them to be when they were alive and happy.

  Now I felt like nothingness was slowly claiming me. No one to rush down to in the kitchen to wish a good morning. No one to talk about the day’s events with over supper. I wanted my parents back. The pictures of my mother and father were too much. Their room … the smell of my mother’s pillow would have absolutely killed me in this moment. But hearing about her from a stranger with a foreign accent didn’t seem overwhelming. A part of me wanted that.

  “Sorin, I asked you to stay, and you said you would.” My voice fell a little and I looked down. “Please stay and talk to me for a little while.” All alone, I thought to myself, sooner or later you will be completely and truly alone.

  “Mia, I will stay if that is what you want.” He crossed the kitchen and pulled out a stool. He sat on the other side of the island across from where I stood. Between us there was food, teacups, silverware, and tins of tea in different flavors. He relaxed on his stool and just watched me. The silence continued, beginning to feel a little awkward. Looking at the disarray between us, I was amazed that the mama bears had left such a mess. There was a short note in Jenny’s handwriting saying to call if I needed anything.

  “Would you like some tea and a scone, or coffee and something?” I asked, doing something to occupy myself, keep busy. Sorin glanced over everything laid out between us. “I will have the same as you,” he said after a moment.

  Looking down at the food, I knew I should eat, but I had lost any desire for food. “Oh … I’m not hungry. But I’ll get you my favorite tea and a croissant.” I tried to sound pleasant. Quickly turning to get him a plate and napkin, I poured some hot water from a teapot that was left on the stove and placed the cup in front of him. After picking the largest croissant, I plated it and was laying it on the counter in front of him when my stomach rumbled. Sorin caught me by the wrist suddenly, and I froze. I looked up at his eyes, ice blue and invading. His grasp was firm but gentle. I wasn’t scared or threatened, but I twisted my wrist in effort to free it all the same. “Sorin?” I simply said his name as a question. He didn’t release his grip.

  “Mia, you should eat something.” His voice was caring, genuine.

  “Really, I’m not hungry.” I whispered and tried turning my wrist away again. Looking down at his hand wrapped around my wrist, I noticed it was not far above the small bruises. It was quite possible he had been the one who’d left them while coming to my aid earlier. My eyes darted back up to his, and he blinked, quickly letting go.

  I watched his lips tighten briefly. “I apologize, I did not mean to. …” His voice trailed off. A few lines reappeared on his brow. Sorin placed his hands on top of his legs and relaxed his shoulders. I stared to clean up the marble counter between us. When he spoke again, his voice was extra soft, alluring and soothing. The way it had sounded when I blacked out. “Mia … look at me,” he said slowly. My eyes felt heavy suddenly as they met his. “You fainted earlier today … yes?” He nodded his head a little.

  I slowly blinked and nodded my head. “Yes, I fainted,” I whispered. My head felt light, and my body went lax.

  He continued “You probably have not eaten in days.” His angelic voice flowed over me.

  “I have not eaten,” I confessed.

  Sorin’s eyes held mine as he paused before speaking again. “You may not want to eat, but you must. Eat something … please.” His tone was firm and his accent more prominent when he spoke like this to me.

  I felt as if I was about to faint for the second time today. My body slowly grew heavier. I blinked again slowly and sidestepped to a stool, sitting down. Sorin finally broke his gaze, pushing the tea and plate toward me. Without hesitation I picked up the croissant. My head started to clear, and my stomach rumbled. No longer ignoring what my body needed, I sat there and ate. Slowly tearing apart the croissant and eating it piece by piece. I sipped the tea as Sorin sat quietly, just watching me.

  I finished the tea and went back to the stove, hoping the water was still hot. I poured some into my cup and returned to my stool. He had placed another croissant on my plate. I imagine the face a child would make at the supper table when told to eat more broccoli crossed mine. I sighed and looked across the island at him.

  His eyes softened, and his voice purred, “One more.” He pushed the plate a little closer to me. I frowned but ate it piece by piece, as I’d eaten the one before. Again Sorin just sat and watched. I would glance up at him every time I sipped my tea. When I finished, I pushed the plate down the counter and out of his reach, making it clear I was done eating. I felt more myself. My body no longer had a fuzzy feeling. I glared at him. There. I ate. Happy?”

  His eyes softened again, and the corner of his mouth turned up just a hint. It wasn’t a smile, just a look of triumph he was trying to downplay. “I am very pleased, actually.” There was a touch of arrogance in his voice.

  “My mother,” I blurted abruptly. “You said you knew her, or at least had this life-altering encounter with her.” I was only repeating what he had said previously. He straightened his shoulders and glanced around the room, avoiding my eyes. “You said you met her, my mother.” My heart fell. Had he lied or exaggerated in some way? “Did you lie?” I accused him.

  Sorin’s eyes turned from some invisible spot on the wall and locked with mine. They were wide, and he leaned toward me. “I did not lie to you, Mia. I promise.” A pause. “I would not lie about knowing your mother.” I had just met him, but a part of me knew he was telling the truth. I relaxed and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Then tell me how you met her and why you speak about her with such regard.”

  When I opened my eyes his face was blank, vacant. “I have never shared it with anyone. It was a day that forever changed me, and yet I have never spoken of it.” Sorin was so serious, so somber.

  I slowly shook my head. “You sound as if she saved your life
or something.”

  He was silent a minute or two. “Actually, it was the opposite.” He winced. I could see him recalling everything. “I saved hers.”

  I gasped in disbelief. “What?!” My mother never said anything about a near-death experience or anything close to it. Confused, I asked, “When did this happen?” My tone was demanding.

  “Twenty-four years ago … minus two months,” he said and then stopped.

  “Go on. What happened? Tell me everything,” I pleaded as my heart started pounding in anticipation.

  Sorin slowly stood up and started to back away from the counter. His eyes were fixed on me, but I could see his mind racing. He shook his head. “I am truly sorry, Mia. I believe a terrible mistake has been made in my coming to you. … In this time of grief, I do not want to upset you further.”

  I felt his words held something deeper. I jumped from my stool and raced to his side as he walked away. “Don’t go,” I begged. My eyes started to water; I was on the verge of crying. “You didn’t make a mistake.” I looked down at the floor, fighting the tears. “You won’t upset me.”

  I started to look at him. Sorin’s hands were fists at his sides. I was suddenly desperate for him to stay and tell me what happened. I stepped closer to him and covered his fists with my hands. They were cool and unmoving. My gaze lifted from our hands to his face. His jaw flexed, and he pressed his lips tightly together. I was almost afraid to meet his eyes. Sorin’s whole body read hostile and tense. I didn’t know if he was upset about talking about his encounter with my mother or if I had done something wrong. Sighing, I lifted my eyes the last few inches to his. My heart ached a little; his eyes weren’t frightening at all. They seemed panicked or scared. I spoke in a whisper. “Sorin, you didn’t make a mistake coming here.” His arms relaxed a bit. “You won’t upset me.” His hands eased enough for me to budge them from his sides. I felt a tear fall down my cheek. His eyes went from panicked to saddened, and his jaw lost its tension. Not sure I had convinced him to stay and tell me everything, a few more tears fell. I looked back at the floor, repeating my words one more time. “You didn’t make a mistake … stay … please.” My voice cracked.

  His hands slowly opened and intertwined with mine. “I will stay if it is what you want. But let me say what I can about that night and no questions after.” I didn’t totally understand his request. I felt like most of what he said meant something more. Maybe I just did not understand his side of it all. Sorin had saved my mother’s life years ago, and now she was gone. It was an experience neither had shared with anyone else. I was frustrated but would have agreed to anything in that moment. Eventually I became very aware of him softly holding my hands. Feeling strange about the contact not bothering me, I blamed it on all the hugs, squeezes, and hand patting over the past few days. I had no personal space anymore.

  Twisting my hands free, I wiped my cheeks dry. “I’ll do my best,” I said in a forced voice and went back to where I was sitting before.

  Sorin took his seat across from me and began telling me what he could. “It was one of the first warm nights of the year in this region. I was out walking around. … I was going to meet up with a friend.” He paused, and I took a sip of my tea, vaguely noticing a slight bitter taste this time. I didn’t pay much attention to that, focusing all my attention on Sorin. Looking over my shoulder, he was remembering the night he met my mother, moment by moment. He continued, “I heard a scream at the end of an alley I was passing. …”

  His eyes shifted and locked onto another place in the kitchen. “I promise you, Mia … I came to her aid quickly … but it was too late.” I froze, waiting for him to continue. My chest tightened, and I started to feel nauseated.

  Sorin resumed his tale. “I believe your mother and Jennifer were closing up for the night. Taking the trash out to the Dumpster behind their shop in the alley.” I knew exactly where he meant, and from then on I could picture everything he described. “There was a man over your mother as she lay on the ground, fighting for an envelope—money from the day’s receipts, I assume. Jennifer lay in the doorway, a bag of trash at her feet. She was hurt and unconscious.” He had saved her too. It explained why Jenny was comfortable with my being alone with him today.

  Sorin’s back stiffened, and he looked down at a spot on the counter between us. “There was so much blood … your mother’s … it was slowly staining her white blouse. He had stabbed her, Mia, for whatever money was in the envelope.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “The man ran off as I approached. I called for help and applied pressure until medical assistance arrived. They rushed your mother and Jennifer to the hospital.”

  My mouth filled with saliva, inexplicably, and my stomach did a few flips. But it was the bitter taste in my mouth that made me push my teacup away. The image of my mother lying bloody and helpless brought tears to my eyes.

  Sorin was quiet. He looked up at me and shook his head. “I did not mean to upset you, Mia. I tried not to go into too much detail in order to spare you.”

  My mother had never said anything about being attacked, robbed, or stabbed. It must have been such a traumatic experience that she didn’t want to relive it. It certainly explained how close my mother and Jennifer were. Going through something like that together bonded people. I wiped my tears away and took a deep breath. “Thank you,” I said quietly, my voice unsteady. I took another deep breath. “Thank you for helping them and doing what you could. Caring about two women you had never meet before. I’m sure my mother could’ve bled out right there. Not many people would have risked getting involved in a situation where their own life could have been threatened.” I sat not sure what else to say.

  I stood up and started to clear away the rest of the food. Looking back at Sorin, I remembered he had given me his tea and croissant. “I’m sorry. You must be hungry or at least thirsty. I’ll get you something.” Placing a muffin, a scone, and some fruit on a large plate, I passed it across the counter to him.

  “Thank you,” was all he said as he took it from me.

  “Would you like coffee or tea?” I asked over my shoulder as I rummaged for plastic bags and containers for the food. “What do you recommend?” Sorin asked.

  I just shrugged. “Anything but the mint tea blend I just had.” I turned to see him looking at my cup. I nodded toward it. “It left a horrible aftertaste. Weird. It never did that before.”

  His eyebrows rose just a bit, and he looked up at me and then back toward the cup. Slowly standing up and taking a step back, he said, “It has become late, and you have had a long day. I should go now.” His voice was odd, forced.

  “Do you have to go?” I asked, hoping he would say no and stay longer. I was sure there was more to his saving Jennifer and my mother. He had to have talked to my mother while waiting for an ambulance. Saw that she made it to the hospital. Maybe even visited her while she recovered. I thought maybe if he stayed a little longer and felt more comfortable he would share more. It was pretty late, and I couldn’t imagine he actually had some where to be. Then it occurred to me he hadn’t actually said where he was from. The accent, the way he was overdressed for the current heat wave.

  “You’re not from around here, right?” It was really a statement, but I said it as a question. “Do you need to catch a flight in the morning or be somewhere soon?” I just stared and waited for his response.

  “No, where I call home is pretty far from here … and I have no prior engagements currently. I traveled quite a distance for you … for your mother’s service, I mean. Maybe you could suggest a place for the night, though.”

  His accent was hypnotic at times. There was a very nice hotel not far away that my father had designed himself. I stood thinking of what I wanted to say. All I knew about Sorin was that he had saved my mother’s life years ago. He had come to my aid today when I fainted. He seemed kind and caring. Something about him comforted me. I was an emotional mess currently, which didn’t seem to bother him. A part of me worried that if he went to a
hotel I might never see him again. Not hear all the things I felt he was withholding. The house did have a second guest room upstairs. My uncle had returned home, leaving it unoccupied.

  “You don’t need to stay at a hotel,” I said at last. “There is a guest room.” I stumbled over my words. “I mean, I’m staying in the downstairs guest room … but there is a second one upstairs.” I gestured to the two different directions as I spoke. I could see him thinking, contemplating what to do.

  Sorin bowed his head. “You really have been kind. I am sorry for the pain and loss you are experiencing. But I should be on my way now.”

  His words were so heartfelt and genuine. I couldn’t risk the possibility of never seeing him again. I didn’t want to be completely alone just yet, and he was a mysterious distraction for me. “You are going to stay here tonight, and I won’t take no for an answer.” I tried to sound confident. Striking a pose and lifting my chin.

  Sorin’s face softened, and his lips formed a half smile. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. “How could I say no to you, Mia?” He didn’t sound completely comfortable with accepting my offer. He slipped out the front door and quickly returned with a black suitcase, leaving it in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room.

  I finished clearing the rest of the countertop. Sorin sat down again. I could feel him watching me as I moved around the kitchen. I should have felt uneasy, but a calmness had come over me when he agreed to stay. “Sorin, tell me about yourself. Where are you from?” I yawned. “What do you do for a living?” I asked as I placed the last container in the refrigerator and turned to look at him for a response. Only as I turned around, he was right there. Slamming into him, I jumped. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to … I just thought you were still …” I motioned toward his previous location, taking a step back from him.