Set In Stone

by Balmanno, Beth

  I flung the door open. “What are you doing here?”

  “What? I thought --”

  I reached for him and pulled him inside. “No, I mean so early…” I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. “I didn’t know when you’d be here.”

  “I’ve been watching. Waiting for your neighbor to leave.”

  “Really? Why?”

  He leaned down to kiss me again. “Because I missed you,” he whispered against my mouth.

  I pulled him to me but he moved away. I sighed. This was the holding pattern we’d been in since that afternoon in my room and I despised it.

  “Go get ready.” He settled into the couch in the living room. “I’ll wait for you.”

  I couldn’t remember ever having taken a shower so quickly. I was tempted to throw my clothes on and race downstairs, back to Noel, but I didn’t. Wrapped in a towel, I studied myself in the steamed mirror. I wanted to be beautiful today.

  I dug out the bags my mother had given me earlier in the week. I pulled on a pair of denim capris, wriggling my legs and hips into the too-tight legs. I slipped into a dark green halter—there was no way I could wear a bra—and surveyed the results. A girl with curves I hadn’t known existed stared back at me. There was no doubt about it—my mother knew how to pick out clothes.

  I tackled my hair next, blow-drying it straight and leaving it down before adding a quick coat of pink gloss to my lips. I studied my reflection in the mirror. Beautiful was a bit of a stretch; passably pretty was more like it. I sighed and made my way downstairs.

  Noel groaned when I appeared in the living room, sandals on and purse in hand.

  “What?” I asked, looking around.

  He was at my side in an instant, his arms encircling me as he buried his face against my neck.

  “What?” I was genuinely alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” His voice was muffled and his breath on my neck sent shivers down my back. “Everything.”

  I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. “What?” It was my turn to murmur incoherently.

  His lips trailed softly across my neck. “How am I supposed to resist you when you come down here looking like this?”

  I smiled. I didn’t want him to resist me. His hands moved down my back, his fingers lingering on my exposed skin before moving farther down, settling on my hips. He drew me closer and I molded myself to him, sighing against his silky hair.

  Noel let go then and straightened. He shook his head, frowning. “Sorry.”

  I reached for him but he took a small step back, out of reach. He nudged me toward the door. “Let’s go. Now. Before we do something we might regret.”

  He ushered me out to the car.

  We parked at King Street and took the Metro into the city. Noel and I sat squashed together as the train hurtled into a tunnel, disappearing under the Potomac and navigating the underground rails in the belly of the city. I nestled as close to him as I could, happy and content.

  However, my mood shifted abruptly once we entered the museum. It was a somber, solemn place. Most of the museums on the Mall were loud, filled with animated conversation and noisy laughter; even the National Gallery of Art had its share of raucous kids and excited art enthusiasts. By contrast, this museum was quiet, its rooms filled with the horror and sorrow of the six-million people permanently silenced by Hitler’s hands. The stillness engulfed me as we toured the exhibits. I forced myself to focus, business-like, as I jotted down notes on the tiny pad of paper I’d tucked into my purse. I was going to write my paper on the survivors of the Holocaust.

  Noel asked about it as we finished up in the Hall of Remembrance.

  “Why that angle?” he asked. “What made you decide on that?”

  I finished what I was writing before I answered. “I want to know why those people survived,” I said at last. “Was it luck? Sheer determination? How could some people choose to go on when they’d lost everything? Why would they even want to?” I was visibly shaken.

  “Human nature,” he responded, stroking my hand. “The will to survive is pretty strong, I think.”

  I put my notebook back in my purse. “But even after you’ve lost everything? Everyone you loved, everything you cared about? How do you not just give up?”

  “Because what happens in your past doesn’t predict your future.” He studied a display as he spoke. “Your luck, your fortune can change—if you give it a chance. For the people who made it, I think it was probably a combination of luck and determination. But there’s one essential ingredient you didn’t mention.”

  I looked at him. “What’s that?”

  He smiled. “Hope.”

  I thought about this. If I had been a victim of the Holocaust, stripped of all of my possessions, of my family, of my own dignity, I didn’t know if hope would endure. There had been many moments in my own life when things had appeared bleak and these situations, so trivial in comparison, had consumed me, had made me feel despondent and hopeless. I doubted I would have been one of the ones to survive.

  “Come on,” he said, reaching for my hand. “We need to lighten the mood a little.”

  He led me to the exit and out into the warmth and light of the day. People streamed past us, and cars and taxis and tour buses clogged the streets. I breathed a sigh of relief. Life continued, despite the atrocities I’d just witnessed and relived. I felt my spirits begin to lift.

  “Where to?” Noel asked. He still held my hand and I gripped it tight in mine.

  “Food, I think.” I hadn’t eaten breakfast.

  We walked up 14th Street, past the throngs of tourists waiting in line for the Washington Monument and the hordes of people crowding the grassy expanse of the Mall. A few blocks further and we were in the real Washington, away from the museums and monuments, on streets jumbled with nondescript office buildings and beautiful old churches. There were low brick buildings mixed in that housed shops and travel agencies, dry cleaners and small, local eateries.

  Noel stopped at a café with two small bistro tables filling its cramped sidewalk space. “Is this good?” he asked and I nodded yes.

  We sat down and a waiter instantly appeared. He was short and thin, almost gaunt, with thick dark hair and huge, spaniel-like brown eyes. He reminded me of the photos I’d seen at the museum and I looked away. He plunked down two tall glasses of ice water and handed us dog-eared menus. I read through the list of sandwich options, trying to block out the memories haunting me.

  “Let it go.”

  I looked up from my menu. “What?”

  “You can’t change the past.” Noel had his eyes on the menu, too, but he wasn’t reading it.

  “But it was just so horrible…” My voice trailed off as the images reappeared in my mind.

  “I know,” he said. “It was. And you shouldn’t forget it. No one should. But you can’t change what happened. All you can do is vow that you won’t let history repeat itself.”

  I nodded slowly. “I know. It’s just hard to stop thinking about it.”

  “Don’t, then.” His voice was full of conviction. “Let it be a constant reminder so that it doesn’t happen again. But you don’t have to let it consume you, either.”

  I knew his words were for what we’d just seen and experienced but I wondered how much of what he’d said related to his own past. The haunted-eyed waiter reappeared and I gave him my order. He nodded his thanks and removed the menus before slipping back into the restaurant.

  I decided to change the subject. “Where’s your brother been?” I asked.

  Leo had disappeared again. He’d suddenly withdrawn from St. John’s after his return two days ago and Noel hadn’t mentioned him once.

  He looked relieved at the turn in conversation. “Leo? He’s been around. He comes and goes.”

  “Is he done, then?” I asked tentatively.

  “What? With wanting the stone?” Noel shook his head. “Oh, he’d take it in a heartbeat if you gave it to him. But his powers are start
ing to wane. And he knows that. He may have given up. You know, decided to just wait until…” He stopped mid-sentence but I knew what he had been about to say. Midsummer.

  I didn’t want to think about what waited in the middle of June. I wanted to focus on the here and now and the fact that Noel was still with me.

  “Maybe we should talk about something else,” he said, watching my expression. It was his turn to steer the conversation and he did, doing his best to draw me into a discussion about the merits of the modern art movement.

  I forced myself to relax and we finished our lunch leisurely, lingering over iced tea and the slice of key lime pie Noel insisted we share. He went inside to pay the bill and I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to check the time. It was already three o’clock. It rang as I looked at it, startling me.

  It was my mom. “Where are you?”

  I could hear the sounds of the city behind her, the trucks rushing past and the taxis blasting their horns.

  “In DC. Finishing up lunch.”

  “Listen.” Her voice dropped a fraction. “I just got off the phone with Fiona. She’s sick—either some kind of stomach bug or something she ate. She doesn’t think she can make it over tonight.”

  My own stomach tightened at the thought. I hated being sick. “Oh, wow. How awful. Was she able to meet with her client before it happened? Before she got sick?”

  “Yes, that went fine.” There was silence for a moment. “What are you going to do about tonight?”

  “What do you mean, what am I going to do? Do you want me to swing by and make sure she’s OK? I can do that, I guess…”

  “No.” Her voice was impatient. “About being home alone tonight. By yourself.”

  “Oh.” I suddenly understood her concern. “Um, I’ll be fine. Alone.”

  “Will you be alone?” she asked pointedly.

  I hesitated. “Yes, Mom. I’ll be alone.”

  She sighed “Alright. I’m not going to mention this to your dad. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t, either. He doesn’t need anything else to worry about right now.”

  “OK.” My mind filled with thoughts about what the night could hold and I shivered. My day alone with Noel had just turned into an entire, unsupervised weekend.

  “I trust you, Valerie,” she said and hung up.

  Chapter 44

  Noel strolled out of the café and handed me a mint. He unwrapped one for himself and popped it into his mouth.

  “Talking to someone?” he asked.

  “Yeah. It was my mom.”

  “Is she having a good time?”

  I told him about Fiona. His eyes widened slightly but he said nothing.

  We started walking, this time to the Farragut West Metro stop. “I don’t know what to do,” I said.

  “About what?”

  “About tonight. I…” I stopped for a minute.

  He stopped with me and waited, watching me.

  “I want you to stay. Tonight.”

  “That’s probably not the best idea,” he said, shaking his head. “For a lot of reasons.”

  I didn’t respond. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. But the night felt like an unexpected gift. A gift I didn’t know what to do with.

  We didn’t talk about it as we hopped back on the subway. By the time we’d transferred trains and made our way back to my house, it was after five o’clock. Noel pulled into the driveway and came around to open my door.

  I moved towards the sidewalk but he didn’t follow me. “You’re not coming in?” I asked.

  He leaned against the car. His sunglasses were on, obscuring his eyes. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he repeated. “We can go somewhere, if you want.”

  He was making the decision for me. “Fine. What do you want to do?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Go see a movie? What do you want to do?”

  “A movie is fine.” I didn’t care what we did, as long as we did it together. “I’m just going to grab a jacket.” I ran inside and up the stairs, yanking a black jacket from my closet before racing back down.

  Noel was studying his phone. “Getting movie listings,” he said. “There’s one starting in a half hour…what do you think?”

  We took off for the multiplex just a few miles away. Noel parked and we crossed the parking lot to get in line for our tickets. The line moved slowly, inching toward the ticket window. We stood next to each other, not talking, but it was a comfortable silence. We didn’t need to fill the quiet with mindless conversation and I was grateful for this.

  A manicured finger tapped Noel on the shoulder and we both turned to look. Ashley stood next to him, a movie ticket in her hand.

  “Hi, Noel.” She ignored me.

  He nodded coolly but said nothing.

  Her eyes narrowed but she forced a smile. “You’re here to see a movie?”

  “We’re here to see a move,” he corrected, reaching for my hand.

  “Oh. Hi, Val.”

  She glanced at her friends, Emily and some other girl I didn’t know. She looked older and, with her long blond hair and flawlessly made-up face, I thought she might be one of their sisters. But then again, all of those girls looked alike. Maybe she’d graduated the year before or something. I couldn’t be sure.

  “What are you seeing?” Emily asked.

  Noel told her.

  “Us, too,” Ashley said. “We should sit next to each other. A group date.”

  I made a face. The last thing I wanted was to sit next to Ashley during the movie. Actually, I probably wouldn’t. I was sure she’d squeeze in next to Noel.

  “Valerie and I already have a date.”

  Ashley’s cheeks turned red. “Of course,” she said. “Well, um…have fun.”

  She turned to leave but her ticket slipped from her fingers and floated to the ground. Noel bent down to pick it up and she followed, giving him an eyeful of the ample cleavage bursting out of her tank top.

  “Thanks,” she said. She took the ticket from his hands and I noticed her fingers trail lightly across his palm as she smiled at him. “See you inside.”

  “She is a piece of work,” Noel commented. We’d reached the front of the line and he paid for the tickets.

  “She hates me,” I said. “Flat out hates me.”

  He handed the tickets to the girl at the door. “Does that bother you?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Kind of,” I admitted. “I mean, I haven’t done anything to her, you know?”

  “You have something she wants.”

  We found our theater and scanned the dimly lit room for seats. “Yeah, I know. You.”

  “Yes.” He chuckled. “But it’s more than that.”

  He was still holding my hand as he led me down the carpeted aisle, past where Ashley and her friends were seated. He stopped two rows up and we filed in, finding seats close to the center.

  I sat down. “What do you mean?” I whispered. I didn’t want her to overhear. “What could I possibly have that she doesn’t?”

  He kept his voice low, too. “Honesty. Integrity. Goodness. Things that aren’t for sale, things you can’t get just because you have a pretty face.”

  I didn’t know how to respond so when the lights suddenly dimmed and the screen flickered to life, I was grateful.

  The movie started then and I tried to concentrate but I couldn’t. Not because I was consumed by Noel’s comments or because I was worried about Ashley. No, my sole focus was the hand that rested low on my thigh and the fingers that lightly traced a circular pattern on the fabric of my pants. His fingers slowly inched higher, by accident or design, still tracing that delicate pattern that made my entire body tingle. Those fingers became my sole focus—I couldn’t think of anything else. I moved my hand to his leg and imitated him, wondering if my touch would affect him the same way. Instantly, his hand froze and he shifted in his seat. I continued, my fingers feather-like as they drifted higher, even higher t
han he had dared.

  He leaned close to me. “Valerie, stop,” he whispered.

  “You don’t like it?”

  His sigh was barely audible. “No…”

  “No?” I asked, moving higher. I knew I was being reckless but I didn’t care.

  His teeth nipped my ear. “Stop.” I felt his mouth glide across my neck, his tongue leaving an icy trail along my skin. His voice trembled. “One of us has to stay in control. If you keep that up, it won’t be me. Please.”

  I stilled my hand and he clutched it between both of his. “Thank you.”

  He held my hand this way through the rest of the movie. I still couldn’t concentrate on the screen or the story playing out on it. All I could think of was him. I thought about the way he looked and the way he made me feel, and I thought about who he was. He was the most perfect boy in the world—a boy who wasn’t really a boy, but a completely perfect being—and he cared about me. Not because he felt obligated to save me or protect me but because he liked who I was. I wasn’t ever going to find anyone to compare to him. And, I thought, I loved him.

  My heart tightened at the thought of him leaving. I didn’t want him to. And I knew then that I wanted to be with him. In every way. It didn’t feel like a rash, spontaneous decision. He would leave me—much too soon—and I would never have the chance again.

  Before long, the credits rolled and the house lights flashed on. I squinted, trying to adjust to the brightness.

  Noel looked expectantly at me. “Well? What did you think?”

  “I had a hard time following it,” I admitted.

  “I did for a while, too. Remind me to avoid dark places with you,” he commented as he laced his fingers and lifted them into a stretch.

  “Oh?” I stood up. “Why?”

  “To protect my virtue,” he said with an expression of mock innocence. “And yours.”

  I wasn’t surprised that he knew where my mind had gone. “How tempted were you? If I hadn’t stopped?”

  His smile was warm and seductive and, for the briefest of moments, he reminded me of Leo. “One more minute and I would have either dragged you out of the theater or had you right there on the floor.”

  My look of horror was genuine. “The floor? But it’s so sticky.”