by Holly Rayner
“Did you tell anyone where you were headed?” I ask.
“Only my sister.”
“That’s right. That explains how she knew where to write to you at.”
“Yes. She is the person I was closest to, and she was on my side when it came to these matters. I knew that she would never reveal my whereabouts to anyone.”
“But that letter… it seemed like you weren’t writing her back.”
Kal swirls his glass of lemonade in a circle on the table. The last bit of ice that hasn’t melted clinks.
“Thea wrote to me several times asking me to return to Kalista. All she said was that our father’s health was suffering. There has been nothing in the news, so whatever he is going through is being hidden from the public. I did not write my sister back. I should have, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her no.”
I open my mouth, but I’m kind of at a loss. When I broached this subject at his house, Kal shut down. If he’s not even responding to his sister, it must really be a sensitive topic.
“I know what you must be thinking,” he says. “How awful of a son I am for not caring for my father.”
“What? No. Not at all.”
His lips draw thin. “Why would I go to Kalista? Whether my father is ill or not does not matter. He does not wish to see me. He likely hopes that I died years ago.”
Suddenly, my words are back, the protest rolling quickly up my throat. “I highly doubt that’s the case.”
Kal’s brow furrows so much there’s a chance his face will get stuck that way.
“Illness changes people,” I say. “Especially if it’s terminal.”
“I do not know for sure that it is a matter of life and death.”
“Didn’t Thea’s letter ask you to come visit before it’s too late?”
Now it’s his turn to be speechless.
“I get it, Kal. I mean, I think I do. Granted, I was close to my parents and I could never imagine one of them acting the way your father did.”
There’s so much more I could say, points I could make about time changing people and tragedies healing wounds, but the feeling in the air stops me. Kal has already made up his mind about his father.
After everything the two of us have been through, pushing the issue right now wouldn’t be wise. Just an hour ago I thought I would never see Kal and Maya again, and now they’re back. It will do no good to toe the boundaries of this delicate relationship.
Standing, I take our glasses and put them in the sink, mine still full. I can’t remember whether I even drank any of the lemonade or not.
The sound of Kal’s chair against the floor makes me turn around. He’s smiling at me, but in a cautious way.
“Julia.” He takes a step closer, and my breath hitches in my chest. “I am so very sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I overreacted.”
Sighing, I look down at my clasped hands. “I mean, I probably overreacted too. Yeah, no, I did. You told me you didn’t want to talk about the letter.”
“I see now that your suspicions were warranted. Truthfully, I was shocked and confused. I never planned for you.”
That makes me lift my gaze to meet his. “What do you mean?”
“No one was ever supposed to know about my true identity. In order to keep it under wraps, I couldn’t get close to anyone. Not on more than a casual level. From the first day we met, I felt we had a connection that went beyond the rules I had established for myself. That scared me, and even made me consider backing off, but I couldn’t. The draw to be near you was too strong. Until…”
He trails off with a sigh.
“Hey.” I take his warm hand in mine. “It’s late. We don’t need to talk about all of this now.”
His smile is grateful.
“How about we just sit on the couch?” I suggest.
Kal nods and, still holding his hand, I draw him into the living room, where the darkness that felt like a monster earlier has now turned into a gentle embrace. Kal is back.
But, wait. Is he really?
What’s his plan now?
We settle onto the couch, and I switch on the little lamp on the end table. It brings enough light for us to see each other’s faces, but not enough that the glow shining down the hall should wake Maya.
Kal’s hand has left mine, and I ache to find it again, but before I do there’s something that needs to be addressed.
“What made you turn back?” I ask.
Kal’s gaze is firm on mine. “You did.”
My chest swells. “How so?” I croak.
“Julia, I could not bear to leave you behind.”
It’s his hand that enters mine. I hold tight like my life depends on it.
“I never expected this,” he says.
“You said that. But… what does that mean? Is my entrance into your life good or bad?”
It’s a painful question, but it needs to be voiced.
“Good,” Kal says.
“Okay. Good, because I feel the same about you.”
He cups the back of my neck. The circles his thumb makes there create shocks of pleasure.
“I don’t know what to do next,” he says.
“I won’t reveal your identity, Kal. I promise.”
Of course, Magnolia already knows about it, but she’s a sweetheart. I know that she won’t tell a soul, especially once I let her know how important secrecy is to Kal.
“I believe you,” he says.
“What else is there to be uncertain about?”
His lips part. He’s about to answer, but then he shakes his head. “I don’t know. Never mind.”
“Okay.” Seizing his hand, the one that isn’t cupping my neck, I kiss the top of it. “It’s late. Rest, okay? I understand if you want to get back to your place, but you guys are more than welcome to stay here. Especially if moving Maya might wake her up.”
“I wish to be close to you,” Kal says. “If that’s all right.”
I must have melted into the couch.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I want you here.”
“Good.”
Kal draws me into his arms, and I go like it’s what I was made to do. The strong plane of his chest welcomes me, and I nestle my head against it. Grabbing the blanket that’s across the couch’s back, I toss it over us and snuggle in closer.
Getting comfortable makes me realize how tired I am.
“Tomorrow,” I say, stifling a yawn, “you can figure anything out. Right now, let’s just rest.”
“Yes.” Kal kisses the top of my head. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good night, Kal,” I say, my eyelids already getting heavy.
He shifts under my head as he reaches over to switch off the light. Two strong arms go around me. At this moment, there’s nothing else in the whole world that I need.
“Julia,” he softly murmurs, fingers trailing through my hair.
“Mm-hmm?”
“For tonight, as we are alone, will you call me by my real name?”
I smile against his pecs. “Nikos?”
“Yes. I like hearing you say it.”
Turning my face into him, I breathe in his heady scent. My heart sprouts wings.
“Good night, Nikos.”
“Good night, Julia.”
Chapter 21
Julia
A bright light intrudes upon my closed eyelids, making me see red. I should roll over. It’s waking me up.
But this position is way too comfy, my face rising and falling with each of my inhales and exhales.
That’s not right.
Kal’s inhales and exhales.
No. That’s not right, either.
Nikos’ inhales and exhales.
His chest warms my cheek, and suddenly I’m smiling.
How long has it been since I’ve smiled before even opening my eyes? My best guess would be Christmas morning as a kid.
Nikos murmurs in his sleep. At the same time, a door creak
s open. Maya!
In a flash, I’m awake. Sitting, I rub the sleep out of my eyes and look in the direction of the hall. A round face peeks around the edge of the doorway.
“Hey,” I whisper.
Nikos is on his back, his eyes moving under their lids. He must be exhausted, because he doesn’t look anywhere close to waking.
“Hi,” Maya says in a small voice. She nudges one foot into the living room and smiles shyly. It’s a sharp contrast to the gregarious personality she usually presents.
Carefully, I disentangle myself from the spot between Nikos and the couch. Sleeping on my side has put an ache in my neck, but it was worth it. As last night proved, I can sleep even in the most uncomfortable position, as long as Nikos is by my side.
His name echoes in my head. It’s still taking some getting used to, but I like it better than Kal. It’s a lot more fitting.
Maya takes a few more steps into the living room, and I meet her halfway. She’s holding one of her stuffed teddy bears and has little interest in me. Lifting onto her tiptoes, she peeks over the back of the couch at her father.
“He’s still sleeping,” I whisper.
“Yeah. We went a long way yesterday.”
I offer my hand to the little girl. “You need to get anything from the car or your house? A toothbrush?”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. My dad would tell me to brush my teeth. Especially because I didn’t last night.”
We slip on our shoes and meet the bright morning, grateful when it turns out that the car is unlocked. Maya finds her overnight bag and, toothbrush in hand, we go back inside. With Nikos still sleeping, we pad past him and up the stairs.
“Do I get to use your bathroom?” Maya asks, some of her characteristic lively personality returning.
“For sure. It’s really nice. Super big.”
Maya’s eyes widen at Shay’s master bath, which has two sinks and a tub that you have to use steps to get into.
“This is fancy,” Maya says.
“You know what? This bathroom is almost half the size of my apartment in New York.”
It’s funny how far away “home” feels now. It’s like I’ve been away from New York for years, and that apartment and everything that happened in it is nothing but a foggy memory.
Maya helps herself to a stool in the corner, dragging it over to the sink so she can stand on it and see into the mirror.
“You, too, Julia,” she says. “You gotta brush your teeth.”
She makes me chuckle. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m glad I have you here looking out for me.”
I put toothpaste on our brushes, and we get to work. Catching sight of Maya’s gaze on me in the mirror, I make a funny face. She laughs, toothpaste running down her chin.
“All done,” she says, spitting.
“No way! That was, like, thirty seconds. You’re supposed to brush for two minutes.”
Maya’s lips twist. She’s looking for a way out.
“And I didn’t see you do the top in the back,” I say. “Not to be your…”
Mom.
I set my toothbrush down, feeling overwhelmed.
Look at me and Maya, both motherless girls. Does she see in me a mother figure? Not to get full of myself, but I see how that could happen.
And who could blame her?
“Like this?” Maya opens her mouth wide and brushes in the back.
“Yes. Perfect.” I smile at her, my heart brimming with appreciation and longing for something more than what we have right now.
Maya finishes up her teeth. “Do you know how to braid hair?”
“I sure do. Every kind of braid, too.”
Her eyes widen. “There’s more than one?”
“Yeah,” I laugh.
“My dad always does a one braid.” She gets off her stool. “Can you do something fancy?”
“For sure. Here, let me find some hair ties.”
I rummage around in the drawer and pull out a few. Maya’s already at position, her back to me. After gently brushing her hair, I do two fishtail braids.
“What do you think?” I ask, securing the last one.
Maya looks at it in the mirror. “I can’t see them.”
“Here.” I show her how to turn around and hold a hand mirror so she can get a view of the back of her head.
Her eyes sparkle at the sight. “That’s pretty! Will you show me how to make those?”
“Yep. Not right this second, though. It takes a while to teach, and we should get downstairs. Aren’t you hungry? What do you want for breakfast?”
“Do you make crepes?”
The request makes me laugh. “Does your dad?”
“Yeah, and they’re real good. He puts berries and whipped cream in them.”
“I’ve never made crepes,” I say, turning off the bathroom light. “Unfortunately, I’m not as fancy as your dad, but I do make good pancakes, and that’s basically the same thing. It’s just a thick crepe.”
“I know what pancakes are,” Maya laughs.
“Okay, okay. Just checking.”
Downstairs, I’m surprised to find the couch empty and Nikos nowhere in sight. He’s not in the bathroom or the kitchen. A peek out the front window shows his car hasn’t moved.
“He must have run over to your house,” I tell Maya, though she’s completely unconcerned. I’ve turned the TV on to cartoons and she’s absorbed with the screen.
In the kitchen, I text Nikos, telling him we’re up and I’m making breakfast, and then I change his name in my phone from “Kal” to “Nikos.”
It’s likely he’ll still want me to call him Kal in public, but I like having his real name in my phone. It brings a warm, fuzzy feeling that I couldn’t have predicted.
The skillet heating up, I stir the ingredients for pancakes and pull out some bacon and strawberries. I’ve got the first pancake sizzling and the berries all cut up, and there’s still no sign of Nikos.
Leaning toward the window, I study the side of his house. There’s no sign of activity.
Anxiety flows through me. If the most important thing in the world to him, his daughter, wasn’t here, I’d be concerned.
Shaking my head, I flip a pancake. I’m worrying too much. It’s all because I’ve gotten used to things going south. Well, no more. Nikos and Maya are back. Whatever steps he takes next will be made with their best interests in mind.
The sound of the front door opening makes my heart jump. Murmuring voices, first Nikos’ and then Maya’s, calm the last of my nerves. Nikos comes into the kitchen, bringing with him a swarm of butterflies that invade my belly.
“Hi,” I say.
“Good morning.” He hovers near the doorway.
His shirt is the same one he had on when he arrived last night, and his hair is mussed from sleep. Not that I’m complaining. He looks freaking delicious.
But whatever he was doing next door, it wasn’t getting showered and dressed. So what has he been up to?
“Hungry?” I ask.
“I’m sure Maya is.”
“Yeah, but what about you?” A burning smell hits my nose. Whirling around, I flip the pancake over. A little crispy, but still edible.
Nikos comes closer.
“They won’t all be like that,” I promise. “I’ll have you know I’m actually known for making super fluffy pancakes.”
He doesn’t answer. He’s standing in front of the sink, back against the counter, arms folded, staring off into space. It’s like he didn’t hear me at all.
“Although,” I say, “I’m sure they have nothing on your crepes.”
“Hm?” Nikos blinks me into focus. “My apologies. What was that?”
“It’s okay. Crepes.”
“Crepes?” His brow knits.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yes. I have much on my mind, is all.”
“Understandably.”
“Can I help with anything?” he asks.
“How about making a pot of coffee?”
I nod at the machine past him.
He falls back into that silent trance while spooning out coffee grinds and filling the pot with water. I want to ask what’s going on in his head, but my intuition tells me he’s busy figuring something out. All will be revealed in time.
“Thank you for last night,” Nikos says.
The coffee pot gurgles, and he touches my arm. My muscles turn weak.
“Of course,” I rasp.
What are we now? He said that it was the thought of me that made him turn back in the direction of Sterling, but that’s a statement I could read into any way I please.
What happens next for us?
All I know is that I want him in my arms. I want to wake up in the mornings, braid Maya’s hair, and make the two of them breakfast. After the difficulties life’s already tossed my way, it’s that simple.
The only thing that comes from my mouth, though, is, “I hope you like strawberries.”
His smile’s faint. “I love them. As does Maya.”
“Good. Breakfast is ready whenever you two are.”
His touch lingers on my arm. “Thank you for cooking. You really didn’t have to.”
Our eye contact holds. “I want to do it.”
The lines in his forehead slacken. “Thank you.”
He dips his face, and his lips sweep across mine. My body tingles. Before he can even think of drawing back, I deepen the kiss. He responds by slipping his tongue between my lips and shuffling closer.
I breathe in deep, wanting to inhale this entire moment. What I get is another whiff of burning pancakes.
“Shoot!” I yelp, breaking away.
“An expert pancake-maker, huh?” Nikos chuckles.
Using the spatula, I lift the burnt pancake from the skillet. It’s a charred mess. The trash can will be eating this one.
“Expert pancake-maker when no one’s distracting me,” I say, adding a sassy look for effect.
“Then allow me to fetch Maya and get out of your way.”
He backs out of the room still smiling, whatever was occupying his thoughts earlier seemingly dissipated.
Plating up the pancakes and bacon, which has been cooking in the oven, I carry the food to the table.
“Strawberries!” Maya squeals, scurrying into the kitchen and taking a seat.