All of It

by Kim Holden

  With the doors shut, the room has become very intimate. Dimitri dims the lights, takes my hand and leads me to the piano bench. I sit down next to him and he begins to play. I’m mesmerized watching his hands move gracefully across the keys. He makes it look effortless and easy. He plays several songs, a mixture of classical, current, and in-between, each running into the next. I’ve never considered pianists to be especially sexy, at least not until this very moment. But then again, almost everything Dimitri does is sexy. It must show on my face.

  He looks at me out of the corner of his eye as he’s playing. I’m shamelessly staring at him. He grins, clearly pleased with himself, and looks back down at the keys. “You’re staring, Ronnie.”

  “How’d you learn to play like this? I thought you said you only played a ‘little.’”

  “Let’s just say I’ve played for a very long time.” He looks at me and the mischievous grin remains. He finishes the song and turns to look at me. “Let’s go find Sebastian.”

  Dimitri opens the doors and I pick up my sandals and carry them with me. He leads me through a few more dark rooms to a staircase that descends down. “The theater is in the basement. Sunny kind of insisted on it. She doesn’t seem to appreciate the fact that you can’t enjoy a movie unless it’s really loud, so she banished us to the basement.”

  At the bottom of the stairs there’s a huge game room complete with pool tables, pinball machines, several oversized sofas, and two big screen TVs. At the far end of the room an old-fashioned cinema marquee hangs above a set of double doors. Next to the doors is a snack bar that would put a real movie theater to shame. It is stocked with candy, a soda cooler, and a monstrous popcorn machine.

  “Do you want something to eat or drink?” Dimitri asks, as if everyone has one of these in their basement.

  The popcorn smells so delicious that even though I’m still stuffed from dinner, I can’t resist. “The popcorn does smell good.”

  He fills up a small bucket. “Butter?”

  “Please.”

  He walks from behind the counter with a bucket of popcorn and a bottle of Dr. Pepper and stops to look at a small screen on the wall next to the theater doors. “Looks like they’re watching a martial arts movie. Do you want to stay and watch?”

  “Martial arts movies aren’t my thing, but if it’s something you want to watch we can.”

  “Sebastian and I have seen it at least ten times, I’m pretty sure I can sit this one out. Let’s just let him know we’re here. He wants to meet you, too. He’s got quite a few friends over judging by all the cars on the street out front, so this should be quick.”

  Dimitri opens the door and I stand behind him. The noise is thunderous. I fully understand Sunny banishing the theater to the basement now. I peek around him to look inside. The screen covers the entire wall and there are several rows of recliners in the room. Though the room is dark I can tell about half of them are occupied with people intently watching the movie. They haven’t noticed us yet. Dimitri cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “Sebastian!” Every head turns to face us. The volume lowers to a tolerable level and the lights rise slightly.

  Someone stands up in the front row and walks down the aisle toward us. Sebastian greets me with the same familiar, warm smile he shared earlier in the week when I saw him through the gym window, and at the sight of it the same protective feeling rises up inside me.

  “I was wondering if D. was ever going to introduce us. He won’t shut up about you, you know?” His smile widens and he glances quickly to Dimitri and back to me.

  I step from behind Dimitri, thankful for the dim lights—I can feel my face reddening. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sebastian.” There’s that nagging feeling again that I’ve met him before. He looks so familiar.

  He laughs softly. “Finally …”

  We’re interrupted by several shouts coming from within the room, “Veronica? What’s up! What are you doing here? I know how you love martial arts movies. Come on in!”

  I squint and look at the people standing or peering around the backs of their chairs. I recognize almost every face, though some I don’t know by name. Most of them are juniors or seniors from school. Then I see my best friend Teagan standing up, and Tate right beside him. I smile broadly and wave. “Hey guys!”

  Teagan, Tate, and I have been friends since grade school. The’re like brothers to me. I give them advice, whether they want it or not (I can be bossy, I admit it) and they watch out for me, whether I want it or not (they’re like brothers to me). It’s a great arrangement that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Teagan and Tate consider me to be one of the guys. Truth be told, I’m fairly certain they didn’t realize I was indeed female until we’d already been best friends for several years. We talk about anything and everything. They don’t censor themselves around me. In fact, they’re brutally honest. Since our childhood days, they’ve grown into big, handsome young men—but we’re just friends. They’re certainly nice to look at though. And it is humorous to watch the girls at school fall all over themselves around them. These same girls either loathe me or love me depending on their method of approaching my boys.

  Teagan walks toward us and holds out his hand to Dimitri. “Dimitri, right?”

  Dimitri shakes his hand. “That’s me.”

  I feel the need to intervene, because Teagan’s manners suck. “Dimitri, this is Teagan.”

  Dimitri and Teagans’ hands are still interlocked and Teagan’s knuckles are almost white. “Nice to meet you, Teagan.” Dimitri’s voice sounds marginally polite, but there’s a tense edge to it.

  This isn’t going well. Dimitri isn’t the least bit intimidated and Teagan never backs down. I put my hand on Teagan’s arm, which is rock hard, “That’s enough, Teag,” I say quietly through gritted teeth, trying not to make a scene.

  Too late.

  Tate is still standing. “Take it easy on him, Teag. Veronica can take care of herself.”

  Teagan drops Dimitri’s hand harshly, but stares him down. “Listen chief, it’s nothing personal, but if you hurt her I will kick your ass.”

  “Teagan!” I grab him by the wrist and pull him out into the game room. “What are you doing?” I’m trying to lower my voice, but the anger is bubbling up. “Are you insane?”

  “I don’t know about this guy, Veronica. He looks like kind of a dick.” The veins in his neck are standing out against his skin.

  “Whatever, Teagan! I have a dad, thank you very much! I don’t need protecting. Let’s not judge the boyfriend, okay? I really like him. Don’t screw this up for me. You’d like him too if you gave him a chance.” My rage has somehow morphed into desperation.

  The aggressive edge is fading from Teagan’s face. “You’ll tell us if he treats you bad, because I mean it. I’ll fuck him up.”

  “Teagan, you know I don’t put up with shit from anyone. Dimitri’s not an exception. But trust me, this whole conversation is asinine; you don’t have anything to worry about. He’s amazing.”

  I’ve finally cracked him. He smirks. “Asinine, huh? That’s a pretty big word. This must be serious.”

  I allow myself a smirk because I can’t hold back some variation of a smile. “Jackass.”

  “You know you love it.” He pulls me into a hug, which is like being crushed by a grizzly bear, and whispers in my ear, “Don’t hate me for wanting to protect you. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”

  My smile turns devilish as he releases me. “I’m glad you said that, because I really need you to do something right now.”

  He knows me. “Dude, what?”

  “Apologize to Dimitri.” It isn’t a request; it’s a demand.

  He huffs. “Do I have a choice, Mom?” His voice is exaggerated, like a whining child.

  My voice counters with authority and leaves no alternatives. “No.” I smile, turn him around, and push him toward Dimitri who’s still standing with Sebastian.

  Teagan sounds defeated. “Sorry, man.
Veronica’s like a sister to me. I got a little carried away.”

  Dimitri is far more gracious than he probably should be, given the provocation, and I’m relieved and grateful for it. “I understand.” He looks from Teagan to me. “She’s easy to get carried away with. I have no intentions of hurting her.” His eyes linger on mine for several seconds before turning back to Teagan and Sebastian. “We’ve interrupted your movie long enough; we’ll let you get back to it.”

  Dimitri takes my hand and turns to go back upstairs.

  I look back over my shoulder, first at Sebastian. “See you later, Sebastian. I’m sorry about that.” Then I turn my eyes to Teagan. I scowl. Unaffected, Teagan just smiles with an innocent shrug of his shoulders.

  When we reach the top of the stairs I let Dimitri lead me what I feel is a safe distance, through a room or two, before I stop him. The room is very dark. I turn him to face me. “I’m so sorry, Dimitri. I don’t know what got into Teagan.”

  I can’t see him, but I feel his fingertips brush my cheek. “I do. You. There’s no need to apologize. It’s not your fault you’re so irresistible.”

  “What? No. No, no, no, it’s not like that. I’ve known Teagan since we were six … I …” I don’t feel like I’m explaining myself very well, but Dimitri patiently waits for me to finish. “He’s my best friend. He doesn’t think of me that way.”

  “Ronnie, I’m a guy. And I’m not blind or stupid. You don’t think I see how other guys look at you and act around you?”

  I wish I could see his face, even a glimpse; it’s really dark in here. “Dimitri, I think you’re exaggerating.”

  “Exaggerating? Even if I wasn’t half as observant as I am, do you think it’s gone unnoticed that we’ve been spending a lot of time together this week? Do you know how many guys at school have approached me the past few days to tell me what a lucky bastard I am? Sebastian’s playing soccer this fall and has already warned me that half the team wants to get in your panties.”

  “Ha. Now I know you’re lying. I know almost everyone on the soccer team, and—”

  He interrupts me, “Apparently not as well as you think you do.” His voice softens. “Listen, Ronnie, I’m not saying all of this to get a reaction out of you, or an explanation, or anything else. Your vulnerability—the way you just don’t see how truly special you are—is one of the things I love most about you.” He adds in a whisper, “And always have.”

  “You’ve only known me a week.”

  He doesn’t miss a beat. “It seems like much longer for me.”

  I raise my hand and place it on his chest. I feel the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart under a layer of tight muscle through his shirt; my mind flashes back to the sight of him removing his wet shirt in my kitchen after the rainstorm a few days ago. I have to remind myself to focus. “Dimitri, I still think you’re exaggerating, but I want you to know I don’t want anyone else but you. And by the way, the picture you paint of me is nothing compared to the spell you’ve cast over 99-percent of the female population at school. I may be oblivious to the way guys look at me, but I do notice the way girls look at you. They’re all practically undressing you with their eyes.”

  He laughs softly and his response is playful and sarcastic. “Can you blame them?”

  I blush, but answer anyway. “No … not that I’ve done anything like that.”

  He’s still holding the popcorn and Dr. Pepper in one hand, but wraps his free hand around my waist and whispers, “Too bad. I’d even let you use your hands.” I feel his warm breath on my face. He pulls me closer.

  “Dimi—” His mouth on mine cuts off my words. I drop the sandals that I’ve been carrying and they hit the floor with a thud as I wrap both arms around his neck. Our mouths mold to each other in perfect harmony as if we’ve done this for years. I anticipate every movement of his lips and tongue. He pulls away only to focus his kisses on my neck, first one side and then the other. The sensations that run through my body are foreign and mind numbing. I’ve kissed other guys before, but it was nothing like this. My entire body reacts to his touch.

  Suddenly Dimitri groans in protest and slowly pulls away. I slip back to reality and realize I hear someone clearing his throat behind Dimitri.

  Dimitri speaks in a voice equal parts amused and annoyed. “Sebastian, you have remarkable timing. What do you want?”

  I open my eyes to see Sebastian standing behind Dimitri. He’s turned on the light in the stairway leading up from the basement and it casts a faint glow upon the dark room.

  “Nothing. The movie’s over and I was just running up to my room to grab my iPod so we can listen to some music. Sorry to interrupt.” The wicked smile on his face contradicts his words and betrays the pleasure he’s taking in irritating his brother. “Resume.” Then he’s gone.

  I look up at Dimitri who is shaking his head and wearing that beautiful smile. My eyes are beginning to adjust to the faint light seeping in from the stairway, and I can see that we’re standing next to the entrance to a long, narrow room. The room looks to be at least two stories tall, with upholstered benches in the center running parallel to the longer walls. I squint, looking from one massive wall to the next.

  Dimitri takes my hand, clearly trying to coax me away. “Come on, Ronnie. Let’s go up to my room. I’m on my best behavior now. We can watch a movie or listen to some music.”

  I ignore him, drop his hand and walk into the room. “What is this?” My voice is full of wonder and curiosity. The bright white walls almost glow, even in the dark, but dark shapes on them randomly break up the glow of the walls. I step closer to the nearest wall for a closer inspection and realize the dark shapes are paintings.

  At that same moment, I hear Dimitri inhale and exhale deeply before he says, softly, “This is the gallery.” He turns on the lights, and I’m momentarily blinded.

  But then, I look up and down each wall and turn slowly in a circle. The paintings are hung both high and low on all of the walls. There are dozens of them, most of them large, but some small. I walk to the far end of the room and back down the other side looking at each painting intently. Though all of the paintings are different, they all appear—at least to an untrained eye—to be painted by the same artist. When I complete the loop and recognize I’m looking at the first painting again I turn to look for Dimitri. He’s sitting on one of the benches eating our popcorn.

  He lazily extends the bucket toward me. “Do you want some before it’s all gone?”

  I walk over and sit down next to him and grab a few kernels, chewing as I talk. “I can see why Sunny wanted me to see her gallery. She should be very proud of it.”

  “You have no idea,” Dimitri mumbles under his breath as he rolls his eyes and shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

  “Did the same artist paint all of them?”

  He’s still chewing very deliberately, but nods a confirmation.

  “You’ll have to excuse me; I don’t know that much about art. I just know what I like or what I think is pretty.”

  “Do you like them?”

  “Like them? They’re fantastic! This is such an impressive collection. I guess she really likes the artist to have collected so many of his pieces.”

  His cheeks turn rosy and there’s an impish grin on his face. He looks embarrassed. “You could say that. Which one is your favorite?”

  “That’s a hard question. I like them all, but I think my favorite is the small one of the Eiffel Tower. I’m kind of fascinated with Paris anyway, but that one, the way it’s painted as if twilight has descended upon it … it’s gorgeous. The dark background lends an eerie quality, but the Tower, bathed in moonlight, stands out in subtle contrast against it. The imagery is romantic, like a dark, beautiful fairy tale.”

  His smile widens and his gray eyes shine. “I was hoping you’d say that. I want you to have it. It’s yours.”

  I involuntarily gasp, “What? No!” I catch my breath. “You can’t give your mom’s painting away.”r />
  He’s still smiling, but the embarrassment has vanished and he speaks slowly, “These aren’t Sunny’s paintings, Ronnie.”

  “Then whose are they?”

  He’s silent. The smile fades and his eyebrows rise as if to answer my question and acknowledge guilt in the same humble instant.

  “They’re yours?” It comes out as a whisper and the pieces all start to fall into place. I stand up and walk to the nearest painting to check out the artist’s signature in the lower right hand corner. Though the script is small, it’s legible. D. GLENN. My jaw drops and I turn around slowly to face him again. “You painted all of these?”

  “Yes.” He sits solemnly, looking at me. I’m suddenly staring at a much older man, someone with years of life experience, someone who has unmatched confidence and the accomplishments and talent to substantiate it. I see a flash of the man Dimitri’s destined to be.

  “Holy shit.” Dazed, I walk back over and sit down next to him. I grab the last handful of popcorn from the bucket, chew it slowly, thoroughly, and swallow it. I pick up the Dr. Pepper and take several big gulps before I look at him again. “Is there anything you can’t do? I don’t know if we should hang out. I may not be qualified.”

  He laughs quietly, pauses, and thoughtfully says, “I can’t cook anything but grilled cheese sandwiches, I don’t know how to swim, and I can’t spell to save my life. You’re much smarter than I am. I could go on …”

  I smile. “Seriously, Dimitri, this is really impressive.”

  He takes my hand and stands up. “It is what it is. I enjoy painting and it puts a little money in my pocket. It works out well for me.”

  I nod mechanically, still bewildered. “It works out well for you? That’s a colossal understatement my talented friend.”