“What?” I said. “Is it too much?”
“Not in the slightest.” She touched my hair. “You curled it.”
“And makeup too.”
“So much for being real.” She winked and went back to the kitchen.
I leaned on a bar stool. “I knew you’d say that.”
“I’m kidding.”
“I know. It’s not like I’m trying to conceal flaws. Pretty much impossible to do that anyway. Who knows if I’ll ever be able to wear foundation again. They told me not to even go in the sun for two years.”
“Already broke that one.”
The doorbell rang. My knees buckled. “I can’t.”
“You can,” Ella said, waving a dish towel. “Go on.”
I walked to the door with my hands held out at my sides, resembling a Disney princess. My stomach, queasy as can be, made me feel sick. I turned the doorknob and waited a second. Then slowly, I opened the door.
Vasili grinned. His intense eyes looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen them before. Even his cheeks were flushed.
I turned back to Ella. She smiled and waved with her wooden spoon. I waved back and closed the door.
Vasili kept trying to say something, but never succeeded. I motioned toward the car and he nodded. We drove into the city, barely saying a word, then walked into the Fulton Theatre.
It’s lovely staircase enchanted me as I ran my hand along the railing. We finally reached the second tier. I followed Vasili to our seats, down in the front on the very right.
“What’s playing tonight?” I said, looking at the curtain on stage.
He mumbled so low I couldn’t hear.
“What?”
He moved closer so his breath touched my neck. I closed my eyes and shivered inside. Oh dear. I still didn’t hear what he said, but I knew as soon as the conductor came out that it was the Lancaster Symphony Orchestra. I saw them once in Philly with Ella. Fantastic performance.
The music began within minutes. Soft and melodic, a subtle wintry sound.
I leaned into Vasili and whispered, “I don’t feel beautiful enough to be here.”
He tilted his head back so his lips almost touched my ear. “Don’t focus so much on looking beautiful. Just be beautiful.”
I straightened in my seat and listened to the symphony ebb and flow until finally bursting through the room. I could feel it in every fiber of my being. Every note. Every instrument.
I closed my eyes and smiled, picturing gorgeous landscapes and happy people. At some point, during a more suspenseful sound, I even pictured Sherlock Holmes. The Benedict Cumberbatch one, of course. The only one in my mind.
I kept my eyes closed the entire time, letting the music lift and descend me to various places and memories until it stopped and the theatre thundered with applause.
I opened my eyes, disappointed that Vasili was standing. I guess some part of me hoped he’d been staring at me. I laughed inside. Ella ruined me. She absolutely ruined me.
He looked down and smiled at me, then pulled me up too. “Now that,” he said. “That proves beauty isn’t just for the eyes.”
We sat in his car, parked in front of Ella and Gavin’s house. He tried to keep the conversation light and friendly, but every time I allowed myself to look at him I thought of Natalie. She should have been on a plane to Paris with the man beside me. But she was home. Single. With a lovely white dress to sell.
I imagined myself in her place.
“I should get going,” I said.
He nodded, then turned the music off. “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve watched you for the last few months. You’ve smiled and laughed even in hard times. Now things are looking up and you seem depressed.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Want the truth?”
“Always.”
“I’m thinking of Natalie. I feel so bad for her.”
“Natalie and I grew apart a long time ago. She’s happy. Relieved, even. I think of you as a gift. A last-minute wake up call.” He paused and waited for me to respond. When I didn’t, he went on, “You can’t glue yourself to the past forever. Yesterday I almost made an awful mistake, but that’s ten years ago for all I care. Yesterday is so far gone. It’s never coming back. Today. Today is it. You and me. There’s no more yesterday and tomorrow is only a hope. We have each other right now, but I need your help. I want this to work. It’s gotta work.” He tapped my knee. “Help me out here. This doesn’t have to be so awkward.”
I turned my gaze toward the house as the living room light turned off. Vasili reached for my hand, but I pulled away.
“It’s me, Sarah,” he said.
“I know it’s you. That’s the problem. You’re too good for me. Don’t you see that?”
“No. I see the opposite.”
“I don’t want empty flattery.”
“You think I’d lie to make you feel better? You’re the one lying to yourself.”
“This isn’t going to work.”
“I’m not letting that happen.” He loosened his collar and unbuttoned his shirt.
I looked away.
“Look at me.” He put my hand on his bare chest.
My eyes were closed, but I knew the feeling well. Patches of skin, far from soft and smooth.
“Open your eyes.”
I did. His chest looked so similar to mine. Pinched and rippled and discolored in places. Our eyes met. The intimacy between us transcended every kiss I’d ever had. No heated passion or sensual tension needed. Only two people being real. Being honest. I couldn’t have planned a more beautiful moment if I spent a year trying.
“I could care less about your body.” He touched the scars on my face. “If you want to know the truth ... I think a woman who can smile through suffering is way more beautiful than a photoshopped face.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “But it doesn’t matter what I think. If you want to judge people by their skin, you’ll never allow yourself to be loved.”
“I’m scared, Vasili. I’m scared of kissing you. Of marrying you. Of being naked around you. Of going to a beach with you. What if I can’t have kids? What if you regret this? What if I need too many surgeries and you waste your life taking care of me? What if we—”
“Stop.”
I exhaled. “I’m living in tomorrow now. Yesterday. Tomorrow. How do I find today?”
“This is what you do.” He smiled, a charming little smile that turned up the corners of his eyes. “You go to bed. You wake up. And you say to yourself, ‘Vasili and I are just friends. I don’t have to kiss him or have babies with him. I just want to call my friend and see how he’s doing today.’ Can you handle that?”
“Friends.” I raised my eyebrows. “Okay. I’ll try.” I opened the car door. “Goodnight ... friend.”
He laughed. “Night, Sarah.”
Thirty Two
Trust me, I know it’s weird, but his little idea helped. Considering him a friend took away the pressure and replaced it with the natural chemistry we always had. We were good friends simply molding into best friends. Yes, I could handle that.
Or at least I thought so.
We spent the next week talking on the phone or texting throughout our days. In the meantime I found an apartment I liked, nestled in a pretty little street on the west end of Lancaster. I put down a security deposit and planned to move in on June 1st.
Vasili supported the idea fully. He also got pushy with my doctor appointments. I had already postponed my skin graft surgery twice, but he insisted that I do it before May. So I rescheduled it for the last day in April. Only one week to go.
Ella beamed like a Lite-Brite on steroids every time I headed for
the front door. “No,” I’d say, “I’m not seeing him today.” But this time I walked into the kitchen as she danced around while making her famous scones and I said, “Getting together with Vasili today.”
“Have fun ... friends.” She laughed and handed me a scone.
“No, thanks. Maybe later with some tea. We can watch Downton reruns when I get back.”
“No ... Sherlock.”
“Can’t argue with that.” I looked around the kitchen. “Do you know where I put my keys?”
“I found ‘em on the dryer. They’re on the table by the front door.”
“Thanks.” I walked over and picked them up. “I’m having coffee with Natalie first.”
Ella spun around. “What?”
“I need to talk to her and make sure she’s okay.”
“Not many women would care so much about the ex.”
“I’ve never been interested in being part of the majority.” I opened the door. “If all goes well, I have a weird, but necessary date planned for Vasili. I’ll tell you about it later.”
I sat down by the window at Rachel’s Creperie. While I waited I bought Natalie her favorite salted mocha drink and got myself a coffee with cream, no sugar.
She walked in and smiled. I stood and greeted her with a warm hug. The kind that lasts a few seconds longer than most. We sat down and I didn’t waste any time with small talk.
“Natalie, I am so sorry. I haven’t been able to sleep.”
She swirled her creamy drink and licked her finger. “It’s for the best. I saw it happening before you came, but didn’t want to admit it. Not even because I didn’t want to lose him. I mean, that too. But mainly I didn’t want to be rejected. Since I was the one that ended it, I feel a lot better. Plus, there’s this … well, never mind that. If I’m honest, it’s because I didn’t want to lose my pretty two-carat ring and my big day to be a bride.” She noticed my wide eyes and continued, “I know. Two-carats is a lot. That’s what he said, but he let me pick out the ring I wanted and I loved that one.”
“Was it embarrassing? Calling off the wedding while the guests showed up?”
“Nah.” She laughed. “My dad told everyone. Vasili and I had a really good talk. Kind of awkward now that I think of it. Sitting there in our wedding attire talking about our futures without each other.”
“What will you do now?”
“Gonna take that job in California. Moving in July. Starting the job in September.” She sipped her coffee.
I sipped mine.
“What about you?” she said.
“I’m moving into my apartment in June. On this side of town. About three blocks that way.” I pointed behind her. “Getting back into photography. Not quite ready for weddings, but I can do some engagement shoots and family sessions. Low key stuff.”
“That’s awesome.” She smirked. “What about Vasili? Are you guys together?”
“No.” I fidgeted in my seat and looked at my coffee, hoping I’d disappear into it. “We’re friends.”
She crossed her arms and leaned back. “Friends?”
“This is so strange.” I picked at a stray thread on the hem of my shirt, still avoiding eye contact. “I never wanted to be the girl who stole the groom. Looking like this, I’m not even sure why I am.”
She uncrossed her arms and pointed her finger at me. “You’re an interesting one.”
I sighed. “I wish people would stop saying that.”
“I saw pictures of you before the fire. I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose that kind of beauty. You were gorgeous.”
I slapped the table. “Thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, for being the first person to admit that I’m no longer that girl.”
She twirled the ends of her hair. “Vasili always got upset at me for being honest. He said I always say the wrong thing at the worst time.”
I laughed under my breath. “Sometimes you say things out of emotion or you speak a fleeting thought aloud. I think that catches people off guard, but honesty is going to hurt some people either way. I can vouch for it.”
“I know it must be hard for you to fall in love again. As a cosmetologist, I think I put even more emphasis on looks. If a romance movie has a female lead that isn’t pretty to me, I can’t even watch it.” Her eyes darted back and forth. “That sounded much worse than I meant it. See, there I go again.”
“No, it’s true. Our culture is obsessed with appearances. Most people would take a great looking guy over an amazing actor any day. But,” I added, “there is Benedict Cumberbatch. Phenomenal actor. I truly think he’s the best of our time. Normal looking guy, but his fame and Sherlock character has got women swooning over him. They’d probably roll under moving cars to win a date with him, then be disappointed when he sparks intelligent conversations they can’t keep up with. They want a sex god, not a real person with a brain.”
She laughed.
I thought for a minute as she ordered a refill.
“I wonder if I’m the only woman who fantasizes about deep conversations of life and art with a man,” I said. “Instead of fantasizing about his fingers on my skin.”
“You may be in the minority.” She smiled. “You really do that?”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “There was this one time in high school. I went to a party with a friend. I was in the living room having philosophical discussions with quite a few guys, while my friend had fun in the pool. One after another a guy would leave and come back. When we left she told me she had sex with every guy there. Huge smile of victory on her face. I was disgusted. Seriously.”
“Oh my gosh. What did you say?”
“I told her she may get a trophy in the form of Chlamydia if she keeps it up.”
“Wow,” she said. “I do like a good celebrity crush and steamy romance, but I keep it in fantasy land.”
“Not me. I’d rather live such an amazing life that I don’t need fantasies. It’s hard to figure that out now. What an amazing life is, exactly. Sex has never been on my bucket list though. No fleeting pleasure ever has, especially now. Not to say I won’t enjoy it and all, but after this I’ve realized life isn’t about pleasure. The more I tried to force it into that mold, the more unfulfilled and depressed I became. I’m done with that feeling.”
“I really admire you, Sarah.” She ran her fingers along her necklace. “I mean that. Vasili and I have been friends for a long time, but I never ... I don’t know ... he’s so simple. I want more out of life. Traveling, great adventures, fame. Truthfully, I thought he was boring and constantly tried to wake him up, but now I can see that he’s just different. We have different passions and needs.” She twirled her hair again. “I love him, but I think we would’ve grown to despise each other.”
“Why did you wait until the wedding to end things?”
She pressed her necklace pendant—a small square with diamonds—into her chin. “This is horrible, but he has a lot of money. And I mean”—her eyes widened—“a lot.”
“You loved him because of the money?”
“No, I fell for Vasili back when he was Prom King. Before ... well, anyway ... I just held on so long, trying to convince myself that it would work, because I knew I’d have a good, stable life financially. You know he paid for my schooling?”
My body temperature elevated. I looked down at the thread I completely pulled from my shirt. Every sound, even the slightest creak in my chair, bothered me. How could she be so selfish?
She pushed her empty cup into the center of the table. “I gotta get going. Heading out to New York with some girl friends of mine.” She winked. “Maybe I’ll meet this Benedict Cumby guy.”
I nodded. My thoughts were too scattered to formulate words.
She hugged me. I tapped her back with the tips of my fingers and pulled away.
“Did I offend you?” she said, clutching her purse as though it would shield her from me.
“No worries. Enjoy the Big Apple.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Enjoy Vasili.”
She pursed her lips to withhold a laugh and rushed to leave. Before the door closed she was already pressing buttons on her phone.
I shook my head and paid for her refill, then texted Vasili. Can you meet me at 3?
He responded by the time I turned my car on. Work till 5.
Me: Tomorrow at 3?
Vasili: Why not tonight at 7?
Me: Needs to be daylight. Tomorrow is supposed to have an overcast. Even better. Tomorrow at 3?
Vasili: K dear.
A few seconds later another text lit up my screen.
I mean ... K friend.
Thirthy Three
Ella ran after me as I dashed out the front door without stopping to explain. Out of breath, we both stood in front of the baby bird.
“I woke up and saw these baby birds.” I leaned on my knees and caught my breath. “They were in a nest in the flowers outside of my window. Next thing I know this one fell out.”
“Well, what are we supposed to do?” She reached her hand toward it.
“No!” I pulled her arm. “If we touch it the mom may not accept it. Let’s get it into a box and I can put it back in the nest.”
Ella left and returned a few minutes later with a shoe box. I tucked an edge under the little guy and scooted him into the box without touching him.
“He’s so adorable.” Ella pressed her hands to her cheeks. “There’s something about baby animals.”
“Okay, let’s take him back inside.”
Ella carried the box inside and set it on the kitchen counter while I answered a text message from Vasili.
You sure you can’t get off work? I wrote.
Vasili: I’m so sorry. He called out and I need to fill in for his patients, but I’m completely off free tomorrow.
My heart slowed. Ok. Tomorrow I have a photo shoot in the morning around sunrise. Can you meet me at 2?
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