by Taylor Dean
“On the contrary. Best date ever.”
His smile reveals white even teeth. “That’s what I love to hear.”
We float along as though we’re the only people on the river, having lost sight of everyone else. Whenever Julian moves his legs, they slide against mine and dang, if I don’t enjoy the sensation. I’m also really glad I shaved this morning.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Julian bails out a few buckets of water from our raft.
In spite of the casual atmosphere, I tense up. “Okay.”
“You thought you knew Elevator Man was the love of your life awfully fast. What made you think so?”
Because his name is Paul.
“I don’t mean to offend you. I really want to know,” he adds.
“To be honest, there were so many coincidences that brought us together I thought he must be the one. I jumped in without really getting to know him. That was my mistake.”
“What do you look for in a man? I mean, I already know it’s not Mr. Come Up To My Place. That says a lot about you. I’m assuming you want more out of a relationship.”
“Yes, I want more than that.”
He’s rather upfront and it takes me back just a little. At the same time, I prefer total honesty.
For reasons I’d rather not explain, I’m looking for a man named Paul.
All right, maybe not complete honesty.
I’ll leave my search for Paul out of this conversation. It rules Julian out and I’m not so sure I want to rule him out. The problem is it goes against everything I’ve believed in for a very long time. And that worries me. Just a little while ago I was falling in love with Paul Brooks, sure I’d found the love of my life, and now I’m re-thinking those feelings. And I’m looking upon Julian with new eyes. Eyes filled with interest. He’s definitely caught my attention. Of course, he has from the beginning.
I went after Paul Brooks because of his name. I’m spending time with Julian because . . . well, I really like him and for no other reason than that. My feelings for Paul Brooks were shallow. Just the fact that I can already feel small stirrings toward Julian tells me just how shallow my feelings were. I’d gotten over Paul much too quickly. What did that tell me?
It told me I was paying too much attention to a name and not enough attention to the man underneath the name.
Julian’s question ruminates in my mind. What do I want in a man? Besides a name, did I even know?
“I want someone who makes me smile and laugh.”
“Knock-knock,” he says immediately.
I can’t help myself, I laugh out loud at his quick response.
“One down. What else?” he asks.
Oh my. Dakota’s right. He is interested. My heart does a little happy dance in my chest.
“I want a man who is, above all, my friend. I want to love spending time together.”
He spreads his hands. “Best date ever, you said so yourself.”
He has me there. So far, time spent with Julian has been pretty darn amazing.
“I’m on a roll. What else?”
In spite of his levity, I know underneath it all he’s utterly serious. I can see it in his eyes. And it scares me.
“I want someone who is supportive.”
“Hmmmm, kind of like the night when you were devastated and needed someone?”
He has a point. “Yes. You were wonderful.”
His demeanor changes slightly. “I was worried about you,” he says solemnly.
“I was worried about me too.”
He reaches out and trails one hand in the water. “Any other qualifications?”
“I want someone who likes me for who I am and doesn’t mind that I’m a bit of an introvert. And sometimes awkward when I’m in uncomfortable social situations.”
“I think when you take the time to get to know someone, you breach their barriers. There’s always more to a person than the façade they present to the public.”
I wish more people understood that. Being shy and quiet is not a full time trait. It all depends on who I’m with and the circumstance. Even though I appreciate his words, I frown.
“Did I say something wrong?”
His perceptiveness always surprises me. It’s time to stop speaking in riddles and hints. “Why me, Julian? There’s a very pretty girl in another raft who has made it obvious she likes you.”
“I can’t explain it,” he says, his eyes on mine.
For the first time, I don’t look away, but hold his gaze. I feel strangely connected to him.
He goes on, “I felt drawn to you from the first moment I met you.”
I have nothing to say to that except, “Oh.”
“Unfortunately, you’d already met Elevator Man.”
“He’s out of the picture now.” No doubt about that.
“And here we are.”
Yes, here we are. Soaked, sitting in a raft on a lazy river, wearing helmets and life jackets. We both look ridiculous.
Yet, I’ve never found him more attractive.
Go figure.
Chapter Eighteen
October
“HELLO, MY NAME is Mr. Pow Pow. You no like my food. Prepare to die.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Stacy’s eyes fill with horror.
Julian holds his hands out questioningly. “Really? Does no one get that?”
I raise my hand. “Princess Bride.”
He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Savannah saves the day.”
Stacy picks up her pizza and puts it back down. The pizza is topped with a sweet and sour sauce, shrimp, and corn. It’s nothing like American pizza. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d try something new, but it isn’t to my liking.”
“I’ll send you out something else. What would you like?” Julian offers.
“No, you don’t have to,” Stacy objects.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Please let me do this for you.”
Stacy blushes as if he just told her he loved her. “Thank you. You’re so sweet. Maybe just . . . a burger and fries.”
“I’ll have it out in a few minutes.”
“I’m sorry, Julian,” Stacy apologizes.
“Hey, no problem. Don’t worry about it.”
It’s been a week since our “drifting” outing and October is now upon us. Regardless, it still feels like summer. That’s life in a city that is relatively close to the equator. Instead of the low nineties, now the high tends to be in the high eighties. It’s just beautiful. Humid, but beautiful. Besides eating at Burger, Burger every evening and exchanging polite hellos and goodbyes, nothing more has happened between Julian and me.
My disappointment surprises me, even though I have no idea what I expect to happen.
The drive home from “drifting” was memorable. Julian and I talked for the entire three hours, just as we’d done on the way there. The conversation flowed between us as if we were old friends.
And he didn’t exhaust me. On the contrary, I wanted more.
The relationship I have with Julian thus far is quite different from the rushed relationship I’d shared with Paul Brooks. It’s grounded and firm, as if we now have a solid foundation upon which to build.
So far, he hasn’t tried to kiss me and he hasn’t invited me up to “his place.” He’s moving slowly, sensing that’s the pace I need. I appreciate that, so I can’t explain my disappointment.
I don’t mean to vilify Paul Brooks in my mind. He isn’t a horrible person. I let him know I was interested and he accepted the invitation. What I’d gotten to know of him, I’d liked. Otherwise things wouldn’t have moved so quickly. But he lives a lifestyle that isn’t okay with me.
He’s not the right Paul.
Of course, Julian isn’t the right Paul either. He isn’t a Paul at all. Regardless, I can’t stop thinking about him. My heart has done an about face and Julian fills my mind now.
This is a huge change for me. The thought has been growing in my mind, slowly and stead
ily. It’s a thoughtful path and to where it leads, I’m not entirely sure. I only know I want to explore the possibilities between us.
I push all thoughts of Paul out of my mind. Paul has failed me. Miserably.
Maybe my sisters are right. Searching for Paul is ludicrous. Maybe the Red Bird was just a coincidence and nothing more.
“Are we cooking tonight?” Julian asks and my mind returns to the present moment.
“Yes. I can’t wait, Julian,” Stacy says effusively.
Julian smiles at Stacy and I wonder why he doesn’t go after the sure thing; the girl who’s ready and waiting and hasn’t already foolishly fallen for an Elevator Man. It makes me feel a little . . . tainted.
Stacy ignores me as if I don’t exist. My magic cloak works perfectly around her. Seriously, she hasn’t said two words to me the entire time we’ve been in China. If I say hello, she lets Lori do all the talking. That’s okay, I’d rather be ignored than have mean little barbs thrown at me anyway. Not that she ever says anything mean to me, but if her expressions are anything to go by, she’s certainly thinking them. If that’s the way Stacy wants to play it, then so be it. I’m not looking for a competition to see who can win the handsome man. I’m looking for my forever. If Julian wants to pursue a relationship to see where it takes us, I’m open to the idea. The stakes are much higher than a rivalry between two young women. This isn’t a game.
As dinner service comes to a close, our cooking lesson begins.
“Please excuse Mr. Tang, he has a prior commitment this evening,” Julian begins. “Tonight we’re making Chicken Chow Mein. It’s a classic Chinese meal. Translated it basically means stir-fried noodles. The secret is in the noodles. I like to use thin noodles, making them super easy to cook. Just a few minutes in boiling water.”
Stacy raises her hand. “What if I don’t like noodles?”
Julian taps his fingers on the counter. “If you don’t like noodles, you won’t like Chow Mein. It’s as simple as that.” He moves on. “Now . . .” Stacy raises her hand again, interrupting him. “Yes, Stacy?”
“Can’t we substitute something else besides noodles?”
“No, then it wouldn’t be Chow Mein. It would be a different dish.”
“Can I make a different dish?” Stacy insists.
“You can make whatever you’d like. But tonight, in this class, we’re making Chow Mein.”
I hold in a sudden desire to giggle. Only just.
Julian goes on before Stacy can further protest. “I’m going to drizzle the noodles with a splash of sesame oil, toss them, and fry them in the wok.” He then places the noodles in a bowl and sets them aside. “Next I’m going to season the chicken with cinnamon, cloves, fennel seed, star anise, and Szechuan peppercorns. Now I’ll add a splash of soy sauce and a splash of chile sauce. Here’s where the heat comes in, guys. You can leave it out if you’d like.”
He adds the chile sauce and says, “Pow.”
I’m beginning to love the sound of him saying pow. I’m beginning to love everything about Julian. Watching him cook is no exception. I can watch him for hours and never feel bored. Besides, I love the idea of a man cooking for me. I’m not all that great in the kitchen.
“Then I’ll dunk the chicken in cornstarch and toss it into the peanut oil coated wok. Make sure your wok is wicked hot. When it’s cooked through, I’ll add a few more items to take the flavor up a notch. Some minced garlic, minced ginger, and thinly sliced celery. Now here’s where you can get creative and add any type of vegetable you happen to love. I’m going to keep it traditional by adding red bell pepper, green onion, yellow onion, mushrooms, water chestnuts, and bean sprouts. Let everything stir-fry until the vegetables are cooked the way you like them. Most people like them slightly crunchy which means we’re talking only a minute or two. Then add the noodles once again and season with soy sauce and a little pepper to taste. Give it another stir and serve.” He places it in a bowl. “Easy, right?”
He makes it look easy. We each have a station to include a single burner plate and a small wok. Now we’re supposed to make the dish ourselves. We can choose whatever we want to add to our dish from an array of aromatic seasonings and freshly sliced vegetables. We have to boil and fry the noodles on our own, cook the chicken, and season the dish to our liking.
Stacy needs a lot of help once again and I feel the green-eyed monster attack my senses. I want to feel Julian standing close to me. My emotions are running away with me, but I don’t want to fight them any longer.
I don’t follow the traditional route. I choose to add broccoli, cauliflower, and onion to my dish. I season carefully, not adding too much heat. When it’s complete, Julian takes a taste and praises me, “Delicious, Savannah. Nicely done.”
Other than that, I swear my magic cloak is in full working order this evening. He’s hardly said a word to me. It’s the first time in my life I feel invisible and don’t like it.
Since we’ve already eaten dinner, Julian encourages us to wrap our dish and take it home to eat for lunch the next day.
As we’re getting ready to leave, regret surges through my veins. Somehow I’ve lost something this evening, but I don’t know exactly what it is I’ve lost.
Then Julian suddenly says, “Savannah, would you like to help me with clean up? I can walk you home afterward.”
Dakota nods her head in encouragement with so much gusto, she looks a little like one of those dashboard bobbleheads. Stacy shoots daggers my way and I ignore her.
“Okay,” I say, hiding my excitement.
After everyone leaves, Julian locks the restaurant doors behind them and lowers the lights in the pristine dining area. The dining staff and dishwashers have already done their job. The only remaining task is the mess from our cooking lesson, which evidently Julian takes care of himself.
“You’re very quiet this evening,” he states slowly.
Actually, I’m not any different than I normally am. He hadn’t initiated conversation with me, so I hadn’t attempted any. That’s my nature.
“I can’t read you,” he says, his eyes on me. When I say nothing, he asks, “Do you want to be here?”
“Yes.”
“You were about to walk out that door without a backward glance. You surprised me when you said yes to staying with me.”
I finally understand. He’s waiting for some kind of sign from me to show I’m interested in him. He has nothing to go on and no idea what’s going on in my mind. “I want . . .”
He approaches until he stands directly in front of me. He’s so close, a book can’t fit between us. A whiff of his cologne greets me and sends my senses whirling.
“What do you want, Savannah?”
I clear my throat nervously and fight the short circuit between my brain and my tongue.
At my hesitation, he asks, “I don’t want to scare you away. Are you ready for this?”
“This?”
“Us.”
“Oh.” I curl my hands into fists so they’ll stop shaking.
“Are you scared of me?” He decides to be blunt and I appreciate his candor. It’s time for me to do the same.
I shake my head. “Not of you.”
“Then what?”
“Us. I’m scared of us.” He isn’t the Paul, yet he makes my stomach feel as though it has fallen asleep and developed a severe case of pins and needles. Isn’t that how falling in love is supposed to feel?
“So, you do see this happening?” I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow he inches a little closer and I feel his breath on my face. I like Julian close to me. I want more of Julian close to me.
Why is it so hard to look into his eyes? I force myself to maintain eye contact and again I see someone who sees me, really sees me. He looks past my magic cloak, he breaks down all barriers, and delves inside.
It petrifies and pleases me all at the same time.
“If this isn’t something you want, please say so right now. I’ll leave you alone.”
“Me too.” His eyes move downward and rest on my lips for a moment, but he doesn’t try to kiss me and I respect his restraint. Julian does everything in his own way and I imagine his love life won’t be any different. It makes me want to experience being loved by him.
Julian moves to the jukebox. “Music?”
“Okay.” The jukebox holds a strange collection of old and new and I wonder what he’ll choose.
I smile when Lady Gaga’s “You and I” bounces over the airwaves. It seems fitting and the upbeat makes our steps a little lighter as we wipe, scrub, and clean and let the music carry us away. When I catch his gaze, he points his v-shaped fingers at me and then at himself when Lady Gaga sings the words “You and I.” It makes me realize he’s seen this happening for quite some time now. He’s been waiting for me to realize it too. The thought leaves me quivering—and I’m pretty sure I’ve never quivered before in my entire life.
I stand at the sink and scrub all the dishes, taking my time because I’m a little nervous. The song “You and I” ends and then begins again because he’s placed it on repeat. I can’t help but feel there’s a slight message in his actions.
I only have a few pots left and we’ll be done. Julian dries, standing directly next to me, creating a feeling of closeness I rarely feel while doing mundane chores with another person.
While he does things to my insides I’ve never felt before, he also makes me feel comfortable and safe. It’s an odd, yet pleasing combination. I’ve never felt so many contradictory emotions in the presence of one person.
“What part of Oregon are you from, Julian?” I ask randomly. Conversation will, perhaps, ease my butterflies.
“I grew up just outside of Portland.”
The one place I’ve never searched for Paul.
Stop it, Savannah. There is no Paul, just Julian. He’s real. Flesh and blood. Not a figment of my imagination.
“What part of Maryland are you from?” he asks.