by Leslie Pike
“Bonjour, Dove! Welcome to our home,” arms open wide, he calls me in.
“This is my father, Gaston.”
I can feel Nobel relaxing when he sees his father. The tenderness it speaks to is beautiful.
I step into the embrace. Powerful arms surround me. It feels warm inside this affection. It is somehow familiar, like we have known each other for years. Double cheek kisses are exchanged. What is that wonderful scent?
“Bonjour, Gaston! Thank you for having me.”
“Come here, my son. Give your Papa a hug.”
He pulls Nobel into our circle and he messes his hair like a parent would do to his ten-year-old boy. I’m expecting him to be bothered, but it doesn’t happen.
With a wave forward, Gaston calls, “Come in! The whole family is waiting!”
Walking inside, the smell of roast in the oven and freshly baked cookies hits at once. It makes my mouth water.
“Is that Nobel?” a woman’s voice carries from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Mom. We’re here.”
Nobel puts a hand on my back as we follow Gaston into the great room. Happy and expectant faces look at the arriving delegation. Here goes. The first sight at who may become my own family. That’s how I feel, although speaking it would be a mistake. Not so soon. Over the years I have learned to keep my conclusions to myself. Let everyone arrive at theirs in time without my input.
“Hello! Oh you’re here!” Nobel’s mother says, coming around the island. I see who he favors. Their eyes are alike. In fact all three boys look like their mother. She’s stunning. Wavy, long grey hair and a chic kind of vibe. Not a hippie one like Grandma. More a rich girl on a yacht in the seventies type.
Walking right up to us, she offers a wide smile. “Hello Dove. I’m Aurora. It’s so nice to meet you. Oh, and hello to you too son.” She laughs.
Nobel just smiles his response.
“Happy to be meeting you too, Aurora. I’ll take a hug,” I say without a hint of embarrassment.
She doesn’t hesitate to bring me close. I think we recognize something in each other that goes beyond the norm. My man is her child. The one who belongs to me, belongs to her too. Respect.
“Now Nobel, introduce your girl to the family and to our other guest tonight. This is Velvet,” she says, gesturing to the couch where Van sits next to a woman that may be a stripper. The name and outfit seem to point that way. I notice the unspoken message Aurora sends to Nobel. Her eyes are one millimeter wider. Body language just said a whole bunch.
Van wears a Cheshire grin. Aargon too. When I look at Nobel there is the same expression. The smile DNA. The Lyon boys are going to have a lot to talk about tomorrow.
“Hi, Velvet. This is my girlfriend, Dove.”
I love that he said I’m his girlfriend. It’s the first time. Velvet barely reacts. She sits like a bump on a log. No return greeting. There is a little smile though. Is she sucking on something? Then a bubble appears between candied lips and pops before it gets too big.
I jump in first. “Nice to meet you. I guess you and I are in the same club.”
“Sweet Cheek’s?”
Oh shit. That’s a strip joint in Billing’s. I know because Oscar and ZZ have been there!
Everyone but Velvet realizes the gaffe. But no one points it out or laughs. But Van has trouble keeping a straight face. She’s not sure what other club I might be referring to. Her eyebrows knit together. Van must enjoy exceptionally naive women. Those are the kind he prefers, according to Nobel.
When no one explains the comment to the girl, I do. Maybe she’s nervous like Nobel was.
“I just meant both of us are newbies meeting the Lyon family.”
Her chin lifts in understanding. “Oh.” And then a nod.
Nobel gestures to the couple sitting at the island, champagne flutes in their hands.
“That’s my sister, Scarlett and her fiancé, Parish.”
They welcome me with their eyes and right away I feel the whisper of a connection. Oh. That was strong.
“Hi,” I say. “So nice to meet you. And congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Parish says.
A chuckle slips from Scarlett. “Welcome. It’s good to meet the woman who broke down the castle walls.”
Nobel holds back a smile. But he doesn’t deny his sister’s assessment.
“What can I make you to drink, Dove?” Gaston asks. “Nobel? What about you?”
I point to the bubbly. “Is that champagne I see?”
“We are sampling a few for Scarlett and Parish’s wedding. Help us!” Aurora adds.
“I’ll take a whiskey,” Nobel says, rejecting the lighter stuff without pause.
“Can I have another tequila?” Velvet asks, suddenly animated.
The drinks are poured, and passed to us as we take seats next to the about to be newlyweds.
I raise my glass in their direction. “Here’s to love. Yours.”
Charlotte is pleased with the gesture and lifts her flute. “Chin chin!”
The champagne testers take a sip and I see a few sour faces. It isn’t that bad.
“This one sucks,” Van says.
“Should have had the Patron.” Velvet’s contribution lands with a thud.
Van could not care less. Don’t think he’s interested in her palate. I would bet it’s the enormous boobs that whet his appetite. For her, it’s probably his bedroom skills. Nobel did say fucking was Van’s favorite pastime. Maybe she likes him for the same reason he likes her. And why not? They could be perfectly matched.
“Have we met before?” I ask Scarlett. “I recognize both of you from somewhere.”
“Yes! I can’t believe you’d remember. Parish and I were at one of your performances at McCandy’s. We spoke to you after the show. Love your music.”
“I thought I’d seen you! And thanks.”
Gaston gathers the rejected samples of champagne. “Let’s get rid of these. I’ve got another I think you’ll like more.”
The evening unfolds like all good gatherings do. Organically. With the ease that comes from a shared happy experience spent with people who like to talk to each other and be together. That’s what I notice. It is not love alone that lives within this family. They like each other. Can’t get better than that. My family had it too.
About two hours in, when the wedding champagne has been chosen and the dinner eaten, we start the dancing. Gaston and Aurora kick it off. Extending a hand he pulls her into the middle of the room, as Marvin Gaye begins to sing “I Heard It Through The Grapevine”. Van and Aargon move the large coffee table to the side, making ample room for the featured dancers.
They come together with a smoothness born of years dancing together. She melts into his arms at first, then he swings her out and the real dance begins. Wow. They can move. Gaston is light on his feet, and the fact he is a big man with a belly doesn’t factor in his ability to have great rhythm. They both do.
“Come on, kids!” he says, calling us onto the floor.
Nobel takes my hand but remains sitting. He leans in. “I don’t really dance.”
I watch Scarlett and Parish leave their seats and join in. Van and Velvet too. Only Aargon stays where he is, and he has an excuse. Nobel watches my face for signs of agreement. But that isn’t going to happen.
“Are you injured?”
He is amused by the comment.
“Well, if you see me dance my ego will be bruised.”
“Just do it. It’s so much fun. I really like to dance. I’ll do something I’m uncomfortable with when you ask,” I say, pleading my case.
It’s an offer I may live to regret, but for now I can’t really think of anything he’d want me to do that I would refuse. I’m an adventurous sort. More than he is.
His shoulders sink, but God bless him, he gets up.
“Okay. I’ll try. But if I say that’s it, please listen.”
“Okay, great. I will. This is a good song.”
We move to the middle of the dance
floor/living room and immediately I see his family watches. But when he notices, they look away. Everyone acts like this is perfectly normal. Only Gaston keeps eye contact and sends an excited thumbs up.
He takes me in his arms, and although it’s an upbeat song, he dances slow. I don’t say a word. This is step one in a one hundred level journey to becoming comfortable on the dance floor. We sway back and forth. We are slightly offbeat, but no sense pointing it out.
“See! It’s not so bad, right? You’re doing good!” I lie.
How the hell does a man so adept at lovemaking become so stiff when he tries to get his groove on? Well, if I have to choose one over the other, I know where the choice falls.
“I look like a dork,” he whispers in my ear.
“You do not. Just relax. You’re holding me and I’m looking in your eyes. I see nothing but your fabulous face. Can you feel my body swaying with you?”
“I feel your boobs against me and if I bring you any closer, you’ll feel my dick. The rocket is waking up. Want to go home and fuck?”
Just as I’m about to answer Van and Velvet pass by. I’m certain they just heard the word fuck, because they both chuckle in our direction.
The song ends and the next one on the Lyon playlist begins. There’s no slow dancing to this one. But he holds on tight.
“Okay, now you are going to add your hips to the mix. Put your hands on mine.”
He does and I make a slightly exaggerated lift side to side.
“Just like this. You now,” I say.
He makes tiny itty-bitty movements in the general direction of mine. When we fall into a synced rhythm he smiles.
“Am I doing it?”
“Yep.” I smile at my John Travolta.
“We look nothing like Boom Boom and my brother,” he says, nodding in their direction.
If ever there was an uninhibited dancer it’s Van. Kind of like a kid with no inhibitions. He’s matching Velvet’s steps and arm movements. Trying to. It’s impossible to match Velvet’s professional looking moves as she gets lost in the music. You have got to appreciate the girl’s ability. Van is beyond a doubt appreciating it. Alcohol has made an enormous difference in some people’s hesitations. Nobel is still up on the dance floor, and that’s proof enough.
“Let’s go dance by Van!”
I bet that’s the first time Nobel said that sentence. I feel his chains weakening.
* * *
It’s midnight. We lost Aargon first, then Velvet and Van ten minutes ago. Scarlett and Parrish, and Nobel and I are the stragglers sobering up with coffee and conversation with Gaston and Aurora.
“How did you two meet?” I ask.
“We met on a beach in winter.” Parish takes Scarlett’s hand and kisses it. He doesn’t let go.
“There wasn’t a meet cute for us,” Scarlett says.
Something passes between the two of them. A big story that can’t be told tonight. That’s how I see it anyway.
“I went to Maine to be with Sam, when my sister died.”
Oh. Damn.
Aurora weighs in. “When Kristen passed, she and her family were living in Maine. Thankfully, Scarlett was able to relocate there for Sam.”
Parish picks up on the story.
“I was getting through my own issues. Processing grief and loss by hiding in my writing. My son had died some years before. Anyway, we met on Martin’s Beach, and the rest is history. Now we are a family. Scarlett, Sam, and I. There’s something to be said for destiny. I don’t think it can be ignored.”
“Don’t forget Boo!” Scarlett says.
“That’s right. The dog had lost his family too.”
I take in the drama of their coming together. It is so different from the story of Nobel and me. Their love story wasn’t easy to tell or to live. It must be solid to go through that kind of start and end up here. The pain solidified what they found in each other. I can see it on their faces, and I feel it when they speak.
11
Nobel
Wiping the last traces of shaving cream off my face, I pick up the cell and take Dove off speaker.
“What were you and my mother whispering about on the phone last night?”
The few second pause in her answer confirms something is up.
“What do you mean? We were just talking about having your family come to McCandy’s for a show sometime. That would be fun, right?”
“I call bullshit.”
That wasn’t it. But I have my own secrets and they will be revealed tonight. Hope it goes as planned.
“What?” she says. “You’re paranoid. Let’s talk about your birthday. I want to celebrate it even if you don’t,” she says, changing the subject.
“Uh huh.”
It is an obvious effort to misdirect the conversation.
“Let’s get past yours first. Then we can discuss if we need to plan anything. You know what I’d really like?”
“Me naked in your bed?”
“Well yeah, babe. That would be the best birthday celebration you could plan. Let’s lock it down.”
Her giggles spark my dick to respond.
“Of course, that will be part of your gift. But we need to do something special. I want to. Come on. Please.”
There’s no refusing her. It isn’t in me. There has never been a problem before about doing what the hell I want to do. When I wanted. Before Dove I saw no reason to bend to things that I didn’t care to do. You do you, I’ll do me. Even stupid things like birthday celebrations. I was that guy. Period. Now, somehow things look different. It is because I am a different man with her. An improved one, most likely.
“Whatever. I guess a nice dinner out would be fine,” I give in to logic and kindness.
A little snort precedes her answer. “Okay good. I’ll keep it simple.”
Do I believe her? Not sure I do. That snort sounded suspiciously like it was hiding a lie. What has she planned? I may regret my recent evolution.
“I’ll pick you up at seven tonight,” I say, walking into the bedroom. “We can have a few drinks before dinner.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Oh no, you’re not getting that information. It’s a surprise.”
“All right, Mr. Invisible. Wherever you’ve decided on will be perfect, because we will be together.”
“That’s right, babe. You and me. That’s all we need.”
I want to say the words I love you, but this isn’t the right time. It’s coming though. I feel it rising and I don’t know if I can stop myself from blurting it out.
* * *
Four hours later, we are on the way to the celebration. The clear starry night is a perfect backdrop for the occasion. I glance at Dove, sitting next to me as we drive to the restaurant.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you, baby. My underwear matches.”
“Prove it.”
She unbuttons the front of the dress and gives me a peek. Light blue lace bra. Nice. My hand slips beneath the edge of the fabric, and I feel the softness of her skin. As I return my hands to the wheel, she lifts and straightens her skirt.
“What do you think of my hair tonight? Thought you might like to give it a tug later.”
She chuckles, but she knows me. I definitely want to pull that hair. Just the thought of leaning her head back gives me a mini-boner. The way the sky-blue dress hugs her body and how her blonde hair is loosely braided over one shoulder. Wow.
She’s mowed down every other woman I have ever known. But it’s more than what’s on the outside. Much more. I’m aware I sound like every cliché ever uttered about men and love and lust. How it becomes all mixed together and takes over a man’s mind.
The left clicker sounds, signaling to her where we may be headed. Think she’ll figure it out now. Peripherally I see her head pick up.
“Can it be? Are you taking me to Lotus?”
“You mentioned you always wanted to go there.”
“But yo
u don’t like sushi!”
“It’s not about me tonight. You are the birthday girl. Besides, I’ve decided to expand my palate. I’m going to try it again.”
“I love you for doing that,” she says, sending an air kiss my way.
Did she just say she loved me? Not really, but it’s good enough for me to take it further. I turn into the restaurant’s driveway and get in line for the valet before responding. Turning to her, and taking her hand, I lay it out.
“I love you for all kinds of things.”
I say it clearly, so it cannot be misinterpreted or dismissed as a sound bite. A smile breaks out on each of our faces as eyes lock. We have been dancing around this moment for weeks. But we need to move to the center of the dance floor, pause and stop everything else.
“You do?”
“I do. I love you, Dove. And if it’s too much, I don’t care. That’s how I feel.”
Our fingers braid and I’m loving the look on her face. It’s for me alone.
“That’s how I feel too. I love you, Nobel. All the way. Oh God. Here we are.”
The line of cars moves up. We are next.
“This isn’t the most romantic of settings. In a car, at a sushi restaurant.” I laugh. “But I couldn’t wait another minute to tell you.”
Her hand lifts to my cheek. “Wherever you and I are is the right place. We carry it with us now. Everything has changed.”
“Everything, love.”
In this moment I am flying among the stars. It’s just begun, and I wish it would last forever. As if the Universe heard my feeble wish and said “no” her door and mine open at once, breaking the spell.
“Good evening,” the valet says unaware of the weight of the moment. Now the world reminds us other people occupy it too. We exchange key for ticket.
“Good evening.”
I exit and come around the car. One kiss. Her joy. Mine. Some sort of visceral excitement is going on in my stomach. And there is the feeling of an altered mindset where someone else’s welfare and happiness reigns. As soon as I said the three words, it became obvious. It seems as if the reverse is true too. Think she feels as I do. I hold the elevated position in her mind. I have no idea how I know that other than her face looks exactly how I am feeling. So, this is love. It is more than I knew.