Julie's Butterfly

by Greta Milán

  “She wants to meet you,” he announced, lining up the menu that was lying on the table in a neat right angle with the edge.

  Felix blinked in surprise. “Really?”

  “I told her a bit about you and our . . . friendship.” He still had trouble saying the word out loud; he found it so strange after the many years of loneliness he’d endured.

  “Great. Maybe there’s still a chance for me to convince her that I’m the better bet.”

  “You can try,” Bastian said with a grin. Julie would very likely hit it off with him, but he trusted his friend and knew that Felix would never seriously pursue her.

  “How about tomorrow?” suggested Felix. “You could come over for dinner.”

  “Are you feeling well enough for visitors?”

  “For female visitors, always.” Felix waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  “I’ll ask her,” Bastian promised.

  “Call her now.”

  “Now?”

  “Why not? Otherwise you’re likely to cancel for fear she might fall for me.”

  Rolling his eyes, Bastian took out his cell phone and sent her a message.

  The waitress brought their drinks, then returned with two plates.

  “Just let me know if you need anything else,” she said before moving away with a sideways glance at Felix.

  Felix mashed his potatoes to make eating easier. He ate a mouthful and assumed a delighted expression. “Excellent. Compared to the hospital food, this is a true gourmet treat.” He drank some juice. “Of course, it doesn’t compare to Elena’s cooking.”

  Bastian pushed his food around his plate slowly. Now that Felix was feeling better and they had the opportunity to talk alone, he couldn’t let the opportunity slip by.

  “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” he began.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s about Elena.”

  Felix frowned. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Your fall seems to have affected her badly,” said Bastian. He leaned back and looked at Felix, who merely rolled his eyes with a shake of his head.

  “She worries too much. I was careless and had a stupid fall. Things happen. End of story.”

  “But she’s blaming herself for not being there when it happened.”

  Felix gave a snort of laughter. “You think I don’t know that?” He continued to mash his potatoes, but more forcefully now. “She can’t always be there to hold my hand.”

  “I told her that myself.”

  “Did she take the slightest notice?”

  “I think so,” Bastian said, mustering his courage. “But above all, she agreed that you could both use a bit of help.”

  “Help?” asked Felix tonelessly. He let his fork drop to his plate with a soft clatter. He seemed to grasp where this conversation was heading.

  Bastian held his gaze steadily. “Help,” he confirmed. His voice was firm.

  Felix ran his bandaged hands over his bald head. It was clear that he was not too keen on the idea. Bastian noted, however, that Felix had not completely rejected his suggestion out of hand.

  “I’ve been doing a bit of research,” Bastian continued. “It looks like there’s a good chance you could get a few hours’ support, two or three times a week. There are plans that combine housekeeping help and care.”

  Felix inhaled sharply.

  “Elena’s reaching the end of her tether.” There was no need to explain what she needed her reserves for.

  The sense of betrayal was reflected in Felix’s eyes as he looked up. “Why didn’t she tell me any of this before?” he asked reproachfully.

  “Because she loves you,” replied Bastian. “She doesn’t want you to think you’re a burden to her.”

  “But that’s exactly what I am.”

  For the first time since Bastian had known him, Felix’s voice was laced with bitterness, and it hit Bastian with the force of a sledgehammer. He was determined to nip these feelings in the bud. He didn’t want Felix’s spirit to be poisoned with despair too.

  “Nonsense. She’d do anything for you, just the way you would if the tables were turned.”

  Felix took a shaky breath and finally nodded.

  “I know.” A tense silence reigned between them for a moment. Bastian wanted to give Felix time to get used to the idea, but Felix was glancing furtively around the restaurant. “Fantastic. You drag me to a restaurant to tell me that.”

  “Wait a sec. The restaurant was your idea. I would have brought it up at some point no matter where we were.” He leaned forward and gave Felix a penetrating look. “It would also make things a bit easier for you if you didn’t have to ask Elena for everything.”

  A sharp crease furrowed Felix’s brow as he considered the pros and cons in his mind. Bastian knew Felix well enough that he could well imagine this internal debate. There was no doubt that appointing a care worker ran counter to how Felix liked to view himself. As long as Felix was cared for by his sister, he could convince himself that he was doing OK. He wasn’t stupid; he knew his own limits, but he had dreams, especially where his independence was concerned.

  A care worker would make his need for help official, and that was difficult to accept. Felix, however, could also be very pragmatic, and rationally, he understood the benefits of a care worker, not only for himself, but for his sister.

  Now that Bastian had pointed out that Elena was reaching her limit, it would be hard for Felix to ignore how much he asked of her. Of course he knew that she made sacrifices for him, but he could hardly believe that she would put his feelings before her own. Her selflessness touched him to the core. How could he seriously rule out the possibility of help when they both needed it so much?

  Bastian knew Felix’s thoughts had turned to Elena from the gentle smile that played around his lips. The siblings’ pure love for each other swept through him and made his heart contract. If he had a brother or sister, he too would have done anything for them. Just like Elena and Felix.

  “You’re right,” said Felix. “A little help can’t do any harm.” He was clearly satisfied with his decision, as the mischievous twinkle was back in his eyes. “But if the care worker has facial hair, I’m outta there.”

  “I’ll personally show her the door,” promised Bastian.

  “I’ll have a serious word with my sister tonight,” said Felix, his mind made up.

  “Don’t judge her too harshly. She didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  “It hurts my feelings far more when she’s not honest with me,” protested Felix sulkily. He grabbed his fork and dug into his potato soufflé‚ which had gone cold. “So can we please change the subject now? A man can only take so much sentimentality.”

  Bastian laughed. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

  They moved on to other topics. Julie texted back, accepting his invitation. Felix reacted with delighted chomping.

  Bastian took him home and kept him company until Elena returned from the gallery. They sat down in the living room, Felix collapsed on the couch. Even their small detour to the restaurant had tired him out, his face pale, but his fatigue did nothing to dampen his spirits. He regaled Bastian with running commentary on the movie on TV, and since Bastian was pleased that he seemed to be feeling better, he let the constant stream of opinions wash over him without objection.

  He was sitting in an easy chair listening to Felix when they heard Elena arrive home. Before she had even entered the room, Felix called out, his voice ringing through the apartment, “Guess who’s coming to dinner tomorrow!”

  She appeared in the doorway. With Felix under medical supervision at the hospital, she had obviously caught up on her sleep; the dark shadows under her eyes were almost gone, and some of the color had returned to her cheeks. But there was still worry in her eyes as she studied Fe
lix to gauge how he was doing. Seeing nothing seriously wrong, she relaxed visibly and smiled. “Who?”

  “The queen of our good friend’s heart.” Felix smirked, throwing a gummy bear at Bastian from the pack on his lap.

  Elena’s face showed a mixture of surprise and pleasure. “Julietta’s coming here?”

  Bastian forced a smile. “Only if it’s no trouble.”

  “Of course not,” she said. She removed her coat and laid it over a chair by the dining table. “Does she like fish?” asked Elena. “Or perhaps beef stew? Or is she vegetarian?”

  “Don’t go to any trouble,” said Bastian, who gathered from Elena’s look of concentration that she was already planning a three-course meal. He got up quickly from the easy chair. “We can grab takeout from the Greek restaurant.”

  “Absolutely not,” replied Elena. “Our guests do not bring their own food!”

  “I agree,” remarked Felix from the sofa. “After all, I was the one who invited you. I could cook up a few things before Elena gets home from work . . .”

  Bastian gave Felix a look that stopped him in his tracks, before turning to Elena. “It’s really not necessary. Can we keep the whole thing a bit more casual? Just some friends getting together for a bite to eat?”

  Elena blinked uncertainly.

  “Julie’s the most down-to-earth person I know,” said Bastian, taking a step toward Elena. “She’ll simply be pleased to meet you.”

  “But I—” Elena began.

  “Please,” Bastian said softly.

  “OK, fine.” Elena shrugged. “Greek then.”

  Bastian nodded gratefully. “Julie works until eight. We should be here by half past.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’d better get going,” said Bastian. “I know you’ve got things to discuss.”

  Felix rolled his eyes. “See you tomorrow.”

  “If you need anything, give me a call.” He checked his cell phone to make sure Julie hadn’t cancelled. To his relief, she had merely sent him a message telling him she could hardly wait for their evening.

  He felt the same way.

  This was the first time she would see his apartment, and he wanted to make some preparations. His apartment was hardly a pigsty, but if you preferred to live in surroundings dominated by pure, simple lines, a certain degree of order was essential. His discreet and extremely thorough house cleaner was not due to come until Friday, so it was up to him to remove any evidence of his condition. Numerous indicators came to mind. He was sure he’d left the disinfectant spray on the sink, and the waste basket in the bathroom might easily be mistaken for an exploded first aid cabinet. Drops of blood might have stained the parquet floor, and his sheets were sure to be dirty, as his restless sleep was rarely without consequences.

  Bastian realized there was something a bit obsessive about the way he stormed through the apartment with a cloth and all-purpose cleaner—like Mr. Clean on LSD, he thought cynically when he saw his expression in the mirror. A haunted expression had appeared on his face, and his rib cage was heaving.

  How long could he keep up this farce?

  He let his shoulders sag despondently.

  Not long enough, that much was certain.

  CHAPTER 20

  This man robbed her of her willpower.

  Julie knew she should be scared of the way his presence caused her to throw all reason overboard. She had barely knocked on his door when she was in his arms and returning his hungry kisses. His greeting had been so passionate that she had not even had a chance to take a look around his apartment.

  Now she was lying naked on his sofa in the middle of the living room, gradually coming to her senses. He was still lying on top of her, his face buried in her neck.

  “What a lovely welcome,” she murmured sleepily.

  She felt his lips curve into a smile. “I think so too.”

  Her fingers stroked his neck until they reached the collar of his sweater. She vaguely remembered trying to free him from it, but he had moved out of reach and completely distracted her from her intention.

  Only now did it occur to her that, unlike her, he was still fully clothed. Only his hands were out of his gloves, and his pants hung loosely around his legs. Under other circumstances, she would have found this totally strange. But they had both been in a hurry.

  These things happened, didn’t they?

  Her eyes gradually became accustomed to the dim light coming from a concealed source behind the sofa. She looked around at the austere room.

  Bastian moaned with pleasure as she stroked him. She moved her hand down slowly over his back to reach beneath his sweater. He immediately tensed up in her embrace, causing her to stop.

  He lifted his head and brushed her lips with a light kiss.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked abruptly.

  “I certainly am.” Her fingers continued their progress toward his bare skin.

  Bastian smiled. “Actually, I was thinking of something to eat.”

  To her mortification, her stomach growled at the mention of food.

  He grinned victoriously. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.

  He kissed the tip of her nose and pulled away. He took her hand to help her up, a tacit but clear signal that their interlude had come to an end. She bit her lip in disappointment but said nothing.

  Instead, she stepped up to him, naked. Entranced, he moved his hand over her hips around to her back and encouraged her to stand on tiptoe and kiss him again. As she raised her hands to touch his chest, he released himself abruptly.

  “It’d be better if we went out to eat,” he decided gruffly.

  “Why?” Her voice was all innocence.

  “Otherwise your stomach won’t survive.”

  She rocked back onto the soles of her feet.

  “We could order in,” she suggested. Seeing his skeptical expression, she had to laugh. “I’ll be very good.”

  “We’ll see,” he remarked in amusement. “The bathroom’s over there if you want to freshen up.”

  She nodded gratefully and gathered her things from the floor, then disappeared into the bathroom, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the bright light. The room was surprisingly large. The floor was covered with dark-gray tiles that she suspected concealed under-floor heating. The rectangular toilet, sink, and tub looked right out of the pages of an interior-design catalogue, and a row of glossy white cupboards lined the walls of the room. Julie wondered how much stuff a man could need in his bathroom; in her own apartment, she had nothing more than a small shelf piled high with all her hair care and beauty products. Over the sink hung a huge illuminated mirror, which gave the room an even more spacious feel. Behind the tub was a shower stall with a large showerhead installed in the ceiling. She shook her head in disbelief. It was a girl’s dream come true; the only thing missing were the bath pearls.

  She slid open the door to the shower and turned on the water. Like all the men Julie knew, Bastian seemed to have a passion for technical gadgets, and she had to try several controls before the water reached the right temperature. She stood under the water and sighed as it began to stream over her.

  There was a light knocking.

  “Can I come in?” asked Bastian through the door.

  “Of course.” She wiped the condensation from the glass door and gave Bastian a smile. “I couldn’t resist.”

  “Make yourself at home,” replied Bastian as he sat down on the closed toilet seat.

  “Do you want to join me?” she called over the rushing of the water.

  Bastian shook his head tensely. “The food will be here soon.”

  “Pity.” It would have been nice to finally see and feel him naked. But the evening had only just begun.

  “Can I use your shower gel?”

  “Sure.”

  Julie had never
viewed herself as a seductress, but Bastian’s hungry gaze had aroused her instinct for play. She soaped herself from head to toe, then grinned at him with a provocative look. Her eyes had grown dark with desire.

  He swallowed hard. “I’ll wait outside,” he said stiffly. He laid out two towels for her and almost ran from the room.

  Satisfied by his reaction, she rinsed off, then dried herself and slipped into her clothes. Before leaving the bathroom, she examined herself critically in the mirror. Her cheeks had a slight flush and a blissful gleam lit up her eyes. She smiled. She felt truly beautiful.

  As Julie entered the living room, the first thing she noticed was the lighting. Bastian had switched on the track lights, which made the spacious room as bright as day. Bathed in light, the living room, with its simple, sweeping corner couch, white matte walls, and flat-screen TV, looked even more empty. The only warmth came from the brown parquet floor.

  “Don’t you go in for decorating your walls?” she asked as she went up to Bastian at the kitchen counter. He was busy unpacking the food that had just been delivered. Behind him was a gigantic kitchen, also lined with white cabinets. He had clearly meant it when he told her white was his favorite color.

  “No,” he murmured and turned his attention back to untying the knotted bag handles. Julie looked at his hands. The sight of his many scars still sent a stab through her. With the exception of a small scab, the wound on his thumb had healed, but she wondered if she could ever get used to the idea of him constantly injuring himself.

  Bastian gritted his teeth as he continued to try to open the bag, but his fingertips kept slipping on the smooth plastic. Julie had never considered how essential fingernails were until she experienced Bastian’s efforts.

  When he noticed her watching him, he took his hands off the bag and rummaged in a drawer for a knife. He opened the bag with a single brutal slash, then brought out two steaming Styrofoam containers. “I hope you like chicken curry.”

  “Very much.” Julie sat down on one of the three stools at the counter. He served the food on plates and set one down before her. He grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses, then came around and sat next to her.