A Springful of Winters
Page 11
“God, that’s awful.” Stephan sounds unhappy. “My dad’s cousin does some things in a similar way to Kit. He’s very different in other ways, though. He couldn’t live on his own the way Kit does.”
“Kit is his own person, Stephan. Autism affects everyone differently,” Yenta tells him. “He likely has similar issues to your dad’s cousin, yes, but he’ll also be very different.”
“Right.”
I can’t interpret Stephan’s tone. He sounds unhappy, or maybe he’s disgusted.
Well, that’s it, I suppose. I never got to the stage where I had to tell him the reasons I do things the way I do. He knows now, and he’s probably trying to think of an excuse to leave.
“I think he’s amazing,” Stephan whispers softly.
The words take a while to sink in, mostly because, at the same time, he moves his hand so that not only our little fingers are linked, but all our fingers are entwined. It feels like our entire beings have become joined and my hand is somehow part of him now. When his words finally register, they settle in my chest like something physical. My heart is beating so hard I’m certain he’ll be able to hear it.
Some people talk about wanting to burst with excitement. I never really understood that until now, when I feel my heart will burst from my chest. I’d always thought it would be a horrible feeling, but it isn’t. It’s actually quite nice.
I suddenly want Yenta to leave because I want to be alone with Stephan. I want so much that it’s all a bit scary.
As if he’s somehow sensed what I’m thinking, Stephan urges Yenta to go back down into the shop, saying he will stay with me as long as I want him to. He does realise that could possibly be forever, doesn’t he?
He sits back down beside me after letting Yenta out of the flat. He doesn’t speak, as if he knows he has to wait for me to speak first.
I don’t look up, my face still buried in Bessie’s fur. “Did you push the top bolt right across the door?” I ask.
“Yes. Yenta showed me how to do it.”
“I usually do that. It’s always been me. I’ve never been here with anyone else except Bessie and Yenta.”
“You can go and check if you want,” Stephan says, his tone soft. “I won’t be offended.”
“That’s okay. If Yenta showed you, then you’ll have done it right.” There’s a moment of silence, and with Stephan, I know I don’t have to fill it with chitchat. He just waits, like always. “You don’t have to stay,” I whisper, giving him the option to leave.
“I know I don’t.” He makes no attempt to touch me when I really want to be holding his hand again, melding our bodies into one. “But I will, unless you really, really want me to leave.”
“I don’t really, really want you to go anywhere,” I confess. “But I know that some people find me hard to handle. Harry left because he couldn’t cope.”
“Well, Harry, whoever he is, is an arse.”
“He was my boyfriend.”
“Was he, indeed?” There’s an edge to Stephan’s voice that puzzles me enough to look up. I tip the blanket off my head to get a better look at his face.
Bessie takes that as an opportunity to leave me, her job done, and go and make a fuss of Stephan.
As he pets her and praises her for being a good dog, I study his face. Why did he sound so angry when I mentioned Harry? Was he jealous? I’ve never understood jealousy because I’ve never met anyone who felt it, nor have I felt it myself. I’ve read about it, but that’s not enough to understand it.
“Are…are you jealous?” I ask him. “Why would you be jealous?”
He sighs as he continues to pet Bessie. “Don’t worry, Kit, I’m not jealous, not really, just a bit envious that someone else got to call you his boyfriend, and we’ve never had any time to talk about us.”
“But you are my boyfriend! You said so, to that guy, and you asked me if that was what I wanted to be the other night and I said yes.”
Stephan smiles as his spring light eyes search my face.
“God, Kit, how could anyone ever want to hurt you? You’re just—” His breath hitches, and I get the feeling that, if I let him, he would pull me into his lap and hold me in a tight embrace forever. “—perfect,” he finishes.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I frown, looking away and staring at the floor. I want him to hold me, I do, but not just yet, it’s too soon, and my body wants… It wouldn’t just stop at a hug and Stephan doesn’t want that, not yet. There are some things you have to do in the right order and I’m afraid I’ve got things terribly wrong. “I messed up our date. I didn’t get everything I needed to make pizzas so now we can’t eat together like you wanted.”
“It’s not always about what we want, Kit. What do you need to do right now?”
“Right now, I need to sleep,” I say because I just want to hide away and shut out the world, especially if Stephan wants to leave.
“Okay.” He nods slowly. “Why don’t you go and have a sleep? Give me your shopping list and I’ll get the rest of your shopping for you.”
“Why would you do that?” I ask in shock. “I mean, I know I should say thank you.”
“You’re welcome, mate.” Stephan smirks. He looks happy. I don’t know why because now he’s ended up doing the things I’m supposed to be doing. “I’m going to do your shopping so we can still have pizzas. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
“And is it still okay for me to come back and help you make them?”
“Yes. That too.” I nod, still not really understanding why he even wants to do any of this.
“Where’s your list?” he asks.
I produce it, pulling it from my backpack. I smooth it out before handing it to him. “S-sorry it got a bit crushed.”
He stares at it, looking bewildered. “Gosh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a detailed list.”
“The actual list isn’t that long,” I explain. “The detail is there to remind me that it’s okay if I can’t get something specific and then I’ve sub-listed all the alternatives. It also has notes in the margins reminding me what to ask for and what to say to whoever is serving me and what they might say back. So I can, you know, have a normal conversation with them.”
“Right.” He’s still studying the list like it’s some sort of unfathomable user manual. I suppose it is in a way.
“If you ever wanted to understand exactly how I work, reading one of my lists will certainly help.”
“You’re not kidding.” He chuckles. “When I get back, I think I might like to read some more of these lists of yours.”
“I call them contingency plans. Do you really want to read them? Harry never did. He thought they were stupid.”
“Harry is the one that was stupid if he didn’t see these lists were as beautiful as the person who made them.” He smiles at me before standing up and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I really do want to read them,” he assures me. “Now you go and have a sleep, mate, and I’ll let myself out.”
I think for a moment, getting it all sorted in my head. He waits for me to reply.
“Go out the back door, then I won’t have to come down and push the bolt home. Get Yenta to let you back in, just in case I’m still asleep when you come back.”
“Sure thing, if that’s all okay with you.” He seems a little unsure. I nod, smiling, not really needing to say anything more except I do. I need to check.
“You can just walk away, you know. You don’t need to help me, or spend time with me or do anything with me. You’ve seen what I can be like. That wasn’t an isolated incident, Stephan. It doesn’t happen a lot, but I can’t tell you it’ll never happen again.”
“Kit, I knew from the first moment I set eyes on you that no matter what, I wanted to get to know you. You should know that I don’t scare easily and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are. You’re going to the shops. You just said so.”
He leans his forehead against mine, his hand on the back of m
y head giving just enough pressure for the touch to be pleasant.
“Oh, Kit.” He sighs, kissing me quickly and leaving before I have even opened my eyes. “See you tonight, mate,” he calls as he walks out of the room.
Chapter Eight
Pizzas Are Better When Shared
or
Grumpy Wake-up Calls Make For Great Bedtime Reading
I sit up and rub my eyes, disorientated because I don’t usually sleep in the afternoon, or in my clothes.
I freeze as I hear a noise that seems to be coming from my kitchen. I glance down at the floor where Bessie usually sleeps. Yes, she’s there, so whoever is in my kitchen is obviously not a burglar or an axe murderer. It could be Yenta, although she rarely comes into the flat. I doubt it is Stephan. He’s long gone. I’m not expecting to see him again after this afternoon. I know he said he would do the rest of the shopping for our date, but he’s surely had time to think things over and decide that being with me is too much like hard work.
There’s another noise from the kitchen. Bessie doesn’t even stir. She obviously doesn’t see whoever it is as a threat, but for that to happen they’d only have to give her a dog chew, and not even an expensive, posh one. Just one of those twenty-for-a-pound ones that look like they’ve been made from compressed paper pulp. She’s a cheap date.
“Bessie, who’s here, then?” I ask like she’s going to answer. She does lift her head, twitch her ears towards me, whine a little and then goes back to sleep. “Some guard dog you are.” I huff, swinging my legs off the bed and standing, stretching out my muscles and yawning loudly.
“Kit, are you awake?” Stephan’s voice calls from the kitchen, startling me and also giving me a warm feeling. This man continues to surprise me, in a good way.
I frown as I walk to my bedroom door and look through the living room to the kitchen beyond. Even though he’s surprised me in a good way I still need time to readjust.
“What are you doing?” I ask after yawning again.
“Hello to you too.” Stephan smiles at me as he leans against the kitchen doorframe, rubbing his hands on a tea towel he has tucked into his jeans pocket. Was he washing my dishes?
I scowl. I’m not at my best when I wake up. Especially when things aren’t as they should be. I shouldn’t be waking up now, because I shouldn’t have been asleep. Stephan shouldn’t be here for our date yet. He shouldn’t be washing my dishes. All my plans have gone awry.
“You’re here early.” I scowl, grimacing when he just stares at me.
“I’m at a bit of a loss as to how to answer that, mate. You knew I was coming back as soon as I’d finished the shopping, right?”
“Yes, yes.” I pinch my nose, nodding but still scowling. “I’m sorry. I mean, I felt the need to point it out, even though I know the reason why.” I run my hands through my hair, which has become all tangled while I was asleep. I hate brushing my hair anyway, but having to do it twice in one day is just annoying. I get a bit caught up with the task of using my fingers instead of a hairbrush, scowling at a particularly stubborn knot at the end of a clump of hair. I tease it apart and click my tongue.
Stephan chuckles and I look up, still scowling, this time at him.
“Are you always this bloody adorable when you first wake up?” Stephan says, not making any attempt to approach me.
“If by adorable, you really mean grumpy and bad-tempered, then yes.” I huff.
“I think I already told you I think your kind of grumpy is pretty damn adorable,” he reminds me. “Is there anything you want me to do to make things a little easier? Go out and start again, maybe, or just disappear until you’ve sorted yourself out and got your plans in place?”
“No! I don’t want you to disappear.” I make a frustrated noise, giving him a sideways look. “You didn’t mean that literally, did you?”
“No, mate, I’m not a magician.” He grins. “You did say it was okay to ask Yenta to let me in while you were still asleep.”
“I know, I remember now. Yes. I’m sorry for being a grump. I get like that when something is happening that I haven’t planned for. Mostly, I just need time to readjust. Sometimes, rarely now, it ends in a meltdown like earlier. I’m sorry that you saw that.”
“Kit, I was just glad I was there to help.” He doesn’t sound as if he’s angry about it, or irritated. When I glance at him quickly, he’s smiling. “I got everything on your list, just as you wrote it out. It’s all here, ready for when you are.” He waves his hands over in the direction of the kitchen bench where I can see pizza ingredients all set out and ready to go.
“Did you get the readymade bases?” I ask as I approach the kitchen. I can feel things falling into place now, getting back to where they are supposed to be in the order I had planned them.
He steps aside to allow me access to the bench. “Yes. The vacuum-packed thin crust ones from the deli, as you requested, m’lord.” He executes an elegant bow and I narrow my eyes, liking the way he smirks at me but not ready to admit it yet because I’m still a bit grumpy.
Okay, not so much grumpy as disconcerted. I should be really bothered that he is in my kitchen moving my stuff around and basically making himself at home—I note the half-empty coffee cup—but it doesn’t feel wrong. There’s a rightness I can’t explain and a warm feeling that I just don’t understand. Well, I do, but this is a first date, so it’s too soon to be feeling things like that, except, I felt them when he kissed me those two times at his hotel…and all the other times he’s just managed to do and say everything right.
Instead of thinking about it too much, I choose to inspect the gathered ingredients. Not because I’m looking for flaws but because I need a distraction to stop me from pushing him up against the kitchen bench and having him right there and then like some sort of wanton hussy. There’s an order to these things, and he makes me want to do it all in the wrong order.
He really has got everything on my list, exactly what I had written down. I feel my grumpiness dissipating like oil in water when you add a drop of soap.
“Okay, you’ve passed,” I tell him. “Thank you.”
“Aw, you didn’t tell me this was a test.” He pouts. “If I’d known, I would have studied harder.”
His statement makes me laugh out loud, and he tips his head to one side as I lean back against the kitchen bench, feeling a little more at ease but not completely relaxed. Not yet. There are some things that need to be said. I push away from the bench, aware I’ve begun wringing my hands and deliberately not looking at him as I try, unsuccessfully, not to rock backwards and forwards on my feet.
“You probably have some questions. Yenta said you might have some questions.”
“No more than I would normally have on a first date,” Stephan replies.
That makes me look up, in surprise. “But our date hasn’t started yet. The date shouldn’t start until seven o’clock and it’s only six-thirty.”
“Well, then.” Stephan is still smiling, and I can’t tell if this is because he’s happy, or amused, but at least he doesn’t look annoyed or frustrated because of my pedantics over timing. “Maybe I should wait until seven before I ask any questions.”
I frown, not really wanting to pursue the subject of this afternoon, but I think it might be better to get those questions out of the way before we talk about anything else.
“You don’t want to talk about what happened earlier?” I ask, still not looking at him. I see from the corner of my eye that he is shrugging.
“Not unless you do,” he says, surprising me again.
I regard him with my head tipped to one side, perplexed and disconcerted.
“I think I do. Need to talk. I mean. I think there are some things you should know about me. Things that might make or break this date.”
“Kit.” Stephan sounds shocked. “Mate, there is nothing you can say that will make me want to break this date. Understand?”
“Er, yes, I-I think so.” I still can’t look at him.
“I don’t need a carer,” I blurt out, before he gets any ideas, or makes assumptions after what he witnessed.
“I-I’m not offering to be anyone’s carer,” he says, his expression serious as I watch him from behind a veil I’ve made of my hair, because looking at him directly will overload me with information.
“Right. Because I don’t need a protector either. That’s Bessie’s job.” I turn away, to look over all the pizza ingredients, rearranging them in the order they are supposed to be. “I can look after myself.”
“I know you can.” His tone is quiet and gentle.
“I don’t need anyone to come and tell me that the things I do are wrong, or odd, or that I should be doing things I’m not.”
“I would never do that.”
“Because I had that. I made the mistake of allowing someone to take over, and—” I take a shaky breath “—it didn’t end well. I mean, for me. I have no idea how it ended for him. I never saw him again.”
“You’re talking about Harry, aren’t you?”
There’s an edge to Stephan’s voice that I don’t understand. “Are you angry that I mentioned Harry, or angry that Harry hurt me?”
“That he hurt you, Kit, definitely. Not the other. Never the other.”
“You will probably get angry with me at some point. I mean, people do get angry with each other, don’t they? But they do with me in particular. It’s just, if you are angry or upset with me, or with something I’ve said or done, or even something that I haven’t said or done, you have to tell me. I’m not good at picking up on these things if you don’t tell me. That was Harry’s problem. He thought I should have been able to work out what I’d done wrong. He never did tell me why he left, in the end. He just—did.”