by A. L. Singer
Sorin’s hands stopped and a thoughtful look crossed his face. “What is your favorite food, Mia?” He tried to sound light, relaxed. It took a second for the question to sink in, for me to grasp such a simple inquiry. “Please, Mia … your favorite food, favorite color, season, holiday … everything. I really do want to know everything about you.” He was genuinely curious about me. Sorin looked at me, waiting, eager for me to answer.
I thought for a minute, trying to decide if I wanted to go along with mundane facts of my life. Or press about concerns I had and questions I wanted answered. It suddenly occurred to me that my head was clear. He wanted something from me and hadn’t used that voice that flowed over and through me. I sat straight up, pressing my back against the arm of the sofa. He moved a little closer, letting my lower legs rest on his lap. “My favorite food, huh?” I repeated, still deciding which way I really wanted the conversation to go.
Sorin propped his left arm on the back of the couch again, resting his head on his fist. His other hand rested on my ankle, just under my jeans, gently touching my skin.
I rolled my eyes and made a disgusted sound as I agreed to talk about myself more. “Pizza,” I stated. One of his eyebrows rose and his hand squeezed my leg. He wanted more than a one-word answer. “My favorite food is pizza because you can have it so many different ways. You can put meat on it, fruit, white sauce, tomato sauce, and multiple cheeses. You could go your whole life and probably not eat the same kind of pizza twice.” I raised my chin. “Detailed enough for you?” I quipped.
Sorin actually shook his head, and my jaw went slack. “Almost … you failed to clarify which you enjoy most.”
I sighed. “I like tomato and basil with provolone cheese.” He nodded an approval. “You?” I shot back.
“I do not eat pizza,” he replied. “What is your favorite color?” He offered a new question.
“Green … the darker the better. I like to wear it because my eyes are a mixture of colors. When I wear green they seem to follow.” He smiled softly and seemed to enjoy the answer.
The questions continued, and so did the answers. Sorin just sat there contentedly, hanging on my every word. It had been so long since I’d sat and talked to anyone other than my parents—even longer with someone of the opposite sex closer to my own age. It felt comfortable, though.
If I would allow myself to, I could pour my heart out to him.
Chapter 6
“I don’t do this,” I finally blurted out as Sorin took a moment to think of another question. “I mean, I am not a sharing person. I don’t chitchat or go out for coffee with the girls.” Actually I hadn’t had a deep meaningful conversation since Gavin, and that had been years ago. I started to think about Gavin and the few years I spent with him. We’d had so many conversations about hopes and dreams—mind and his. His had been cruelly cut short. Only a few of mine had been fulfilled. My body began to tense as I drifted deeper into memories of Gavin.
“Animal.” Sorin suddenly threw the word out, snapping me back to the present. “Animal … what is my favorite animal?” I questioned, sounding bored. He just nodded.
I looked off to the side and thought about it. “Skunks,” I said sheepishly, waiting for him to make a repulsed face. But he didn’t, so I explained. “Skunks, because they are so misunderstood. They only stink to protect themselves.” I turned to my side and rolled up the blanket behind me, using it as a pillow. I lay my head down.
Sorin’s forehead wrinkled. “Are you sleepy, Mia? Should I walk you to your room?” He asked, and lifted his head a little.
“No, not sleepy … just relaxed. Naturally relaxed,” I added for emphasis, not sure if he would catch my intentional accusation.
“Which season?” Sorin asked, ignoring my last comment.
“Spring—the rain, the growth … everything is all fresh and new.”
“Bird?” He softly smiled, and I rolled my eyes. Every time I thought it couldn’t get more pointless, he asked about something simple. It seemed foolish to me, but then I realized he was just trying to pick easy topics. Unimportant things. He was trying to keep me relaxed and in the moment.
“Peacock” I finally said. “They are bright and colorful. The males are the ones with the vivid colors, and they show their feathers only during mating season.”
There was a brief silence as he searched for something he hadn’t already asked. “Flower?” he asked, and my heart dropped. Water lilies filled my mind’s eye, and I remembered yesterday’s dream. The dock surrounded by lily pads. My dad. Saving me. Always there for me. … My heart ached, and tears began to fill my vision.
“Food,” I heard him say quickly, and I blinked.
“You already asked about my favorite food, Sorin,” I whispered in a hollow voice.
He stood up and offered me his hand. “Food,” he said again. “You should … we should eat.” He sounded determined. I was under the impression he wasn’t going to accept a no from me. I put my hand in his and swung my feet around as he helped me up.
As I stepped toward him a grape squished between my toes. “Yuck!” I complained as I looked down. I was about to kneel down to clean up the discarded plate and fruit at my feet—the one we’d left untended—but Sorin caught my elbow. “I will tend to this, Mia. Go get something to eat.” He guided me past him as he spoke. I was aggravated. Between recalling more of my dream, the grape pieces between my toes, and his ordering to eat, I couldn’t mask my irritation. “Good idea!” I retorted angrily. “From now on I will handle my own food.”
I didn’t look back at him as I walked to the kitchen. I yanked open the fridge door, pulled out a container of strawberries, and plated them. I searched the refrigerator door, grabbing the carrot juice. I poured myself a glass and drank it. Sorin returned with the plate covered with pieces of smashed fruit. I moved so he could put the plate in the sink. As he passed the refrigerator he paused and turned back to me.
“Why did you remove the clock?” His head tilted in that odd way I was beginning to notice more.
I put my empty glass in the sink and sat on the stool, setting the plate of strawberries in front of me. I turned my head to the side and saw the edge of the clock near his feet. “I have no use for it right now … I don’t need to know what time it is. I don’t have anywhere to be.” I looked up at his face, inhaling deeply. “How about you … do you have somewhere to be?” There, I thought, I finally asked. I held my breath and waited for him to answer, watching as he circled the island and took the seat across from me.
Sorin’s hands crossed the cool dark marble to touch mine. He took my hands in his, caressing them. “Mia … I have nowhere to be but here with you.” He meant it. I exhaled, relieved, but a part of me still doubted.
“But for how long?” I pressed.
As soon as the words left my mouth Sorin answered. “As long as you want.” With that, he raised my hands to his lips as he leaned forward and kissed my fingers. My heart jumped, and my cheeks warmed. I pulled my hands back, moving them down to my lap. I hadn’t blushed in a really long time. It was embarrassing to think about how long it had been since anyone had touched me like that.
I hadn’t been with a guy since Gavin in our senior year of high school. Thinking of him didn’t hurt quite as much as it used to. It had been five years now. Five years since a man held my hands and made me blush. After Gavin died I just never felt interested in being in a relationship or even in dating. With every month that went by it just became less of a priority. It hadn’t helped that every weekend for the past three years at least one drunk guy had offered to take me back to his place at closing time.
The glass plate squeaked over the counter, and I looked down. Sorin held out a strawberry, and without a thought I took it from him. “What do you do for a living?” I took advantage of a moment where he no longer asked me question after question. I looked up when he didn’t answer. His back was stiff, and he looked like he had to think about it. “It is not a trick question, Sorin,” I
half teased.
His eyes focused on me, and I thought maybe he hadn’t been listening. “Sorry. I sell antiques for a living.” He didn’t sound like his usual confident self, but then he relaxed a little. “I travel and make my own work schedule.” His eyes brightened “I have nowhere to be but here with you, I promise.” He smiled lightly.
I shrugged. It wasn’t what I had meant by the question. But his answer was reassuring. He reached down to pick up another strawberry for me, quickly wishing he hadn’t. I slapped his hand away and shoved the plate to his side of the counter. He backed away from it and looked at me, confused.
“What? … You eat something,” I said rather loudly, picking up a strawberry for him to eat. “You want to tell me to eat. Practically shove food in my face. But it’s not acceptable the other way around? What a hypocrite.” I dropped the fruit on the plate and crossed my arms. Waiting and watching, all he did was stare at the plate.
Finally Sorin looked up at me and shook his head. “No,” he replied.
“No?!” I said even louder. “Why not?”
His frame eased from its tension, and his lips turned up a little. “I cannot … I am allergic. I would become very ill.” His smile increased a little more. “Do you want me to fall ill, Mia?” Sorin’s voice was taunting me, catching me by surprise.
I leaned forward onto the marble, and my shoulders fell. I felt awful and apologized quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know … I mean, I have never actually met anyone allergic to strawberries.” I rambled. “I was just tired of you forcing food on me.”
He picked up the plate and walked around to put it in the sink. I heard it clink against the other plate. “There is no need to dwell on it, Mia.” He sounded a little amused. “I will stop trying to make you eat. I mean well. It was my attempt at keeping you from wasting away.” Sorin’s hands squeezed my upper arms, and he kissed the back of my head. Walking past me to the doorway, he looked back at me. “Come, I will walk you to your room.” He stuck his elbow out for me to take. We had spent hours talking in the front room; it was now the early hours of the morning.
I sighed and slid off the stool to join him. I tucked my hand into the crease of his elbow, and we walked together. At the doorway to the guest room I released his arm and entered. The light flicked on, and I turned back to him. Sorin just lingered in the doorway. I couldn’t help but remind him. “You have been in this room before.” I looked to the window. It was still dark outside. “It is pretty early still; the sun isn’t even up yet. Keep my company till I fall to sleep. I have a million questions for you to answer … please,” I cajoled.
His head tilted slightly, and he studied me for a moment. Finally he gave me a soft smile and joined me. I went to the bathroom and washed my face. I moistened a wash cloth and cleaned my foot where it still felt sticky from stepping on the grape. I pulled the few pins out of my hair and shook it till the waves of hair spilled over my shoulders. I came out into the room and turned the lamp on. As I shut off the overhead light I realized the room was still pretty well lit. Sorin was sitting in the chair from last night, his legs resting on the bed. I walked to the opposite side of the bed and paused. I was running out of clean clothes again.
I felt nervous as I reached down to undo my jeans. As soon as my fingers touched the metal button, Sorin’s head lifted. He kept his eyes on the ceiling. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He had behaved mostly gentlemanly these past two days. I was glad; it just wasn’t common anymore. Any other male would have eagerly watched me undress. I attributed it to his being foreign. I stepped out of my jeans and crawled into bed under the covers. I lay on my side, facing him and coughing lightly.
He looked at me and grinned. “Mia, share an amusing story from your past.” Sorin sounded relaxed.
“More about me?” I moaned and fluffed my pillow before laying my head back on it. I thought for a moment. “When I was six or seven my parents took me camping for the first time. The last morning of the trip I heard something rustling outside the tent. My parents were already up and out fixing breakfast. So I unzipped the tent and stepped out.” I paused, picturing everything in my head. “There were two baby skunks behind our tent near some trees.” A light chuckle left me as I remembered what followed. “They were the cutest little black and white tufts of fur. Unfortunately, I had it in my head that I wanted to take one home as a pet. I was convinced they wouldn’t spray me because I was friendly. So I started chasing them. My parents must have heard me calling them, because suddenly my mother was shrieking. My father scooped me up before I could scare them and cause them to defend themselves.” I rolled my eyes. “They didn’t take me camping the following summer. But I have had a soft spot for skunks ever since.”
Sorin smiled a crooked grin. “You were a fearless little one.” He chuckled. Even though I had slept most of the previous day I was starting to feel drowsy. I sat up to shut off the lamp on the nightstand, intending to just talk in the dark. Sorin caught my wrist before I could twist the knob. My eyes darted from their destination to his face, and he let go of my hand. I lay back down, not sure what to say.
“I will shut it off when you fall asleep,” he assured me. I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling. I surmised he wanted to watch me drift off to sleep. I thought about it—him sitting there watching over me. He had done it before. It did make my stomach flutter a little, and I found comfort in it. Sorin broke the silence. “Mia?” His tone was low, unsure. He was probably curious if I was paying attention. “Hmm?” was all I managed. My eyes were getting heavy. He continued, his voice cautious. “Mia … this is not your bedroom.” It was a question, but it came out as a statement. “Why do you sleep here, in this room?”
I closed my eyes and tried not to tense up. I had told him I was staying in the downstairs guest room. Plus, I hadn’t considered that Sorin might wander into my real bedroom last night while searching for the upstairs guest room.
“No,” I said after a minute or two. This is not my room. Mine is upstairs. This one has all my old furniture and bedding, though.” I paused, trying to find the strength to continue. To enter into a deep and personal conversation. “The truth is, I’m just not ready to go upstairs yet … to see the pictures on the hallway walls. See my parents’ bedroom door at the top of the steps. I have told myself for days now, ‘maybe tomorrow.’ And then tomorrow comes and goes. I had to ask Kayla to go upstairs and get me a dress and shoes for the service. … Maybe tomorrow.” My stomach tightened at the thought, and my eyes felt moist as tears began to build. I didn’t want to think about it anymore; I just wanted to fall asleep and be oblivious.
The bed shifted a little, but I was too close to sleep to open my eyes. Sorin kissed my forehead and whispered near my temple. “Sleep now, Mia … let go and fade away.” His voice made me imagine warm snowflakes. Big beautiful fluffy snowflakes—that somehow felt magically warm—falling all around me. Sorin’s words fell on my skin and melted over me, warm and relaxing. I was torn—a part of me knew this was not real. This feeling flowing over my body when he spoke like this. But a part of me now longed for it. To drift away, to slip into the quiet darkness and leave reality. Sleep had become a form of death to me this past week. One I didn’t want to wake up from. I did let go, allowing myself to fade away into the quiet darkness.
Chapter 7
I heard children screaming, excited and happy. I stirred and opened my eyes, turning toward the curtains. It was soon after dawn, just a little light coming through the window. I rolled out of bed and pulled on my jeans from the night before. I grabbed all my clothes from the floor and carried them to the laundry room. Once the wash cycle began I continued to the patio door. I stepped out and closed it behind me. The air was fresh and cool. I rested my elbows on the wooden railing and looked a few yards over. A small group of children were running around. Giggling and grabbing at the air. I looked closer and saw them, tiny quick flashes. I stood and glanced down at the tree line, where fireflies flickered. The sun had not jus
t risen, it was about to set. Had I really slept the day away—again? It explained why I didn’t feel fatigued after just a few hours of sleep. I leaned forward onto the railing and watched the children for a long time. I envied their innocence, the joy they filled the air with.
My stomach growled, and I went back inside. I stopped at the washer, hearing the spin cycle. I would return to it later. I expected to find Sorin in the kitchen or at least hear the television going. But just like the night before, there was no noise and no footsteps. Just silence all around the house. Just because I’d slept the day away didn’t mean Sorin had. Why hadn’t he woken me up? I started to worry that maybe he had turned in for the night. I pulled a plate of food from the fridge and picked at it as I stood at the counter. I ate only what I thought would quiet my stomach, still not really having an appetite. I threw the rest away and rinsed the plate. Water splashed onto my shirt. I looked down at my clothes and decided it was time to get something new to wear.