His eyes didn’t react, but he knew exactly what I referred to.
“This winter won’t be so bad.”
“You’ll never be cold, I can tell you that.” He turned his lips into my hand, kissing the center of my palm.
My hand slipped down to his chest, and I looked into his eyes, so comfortable that I could fall asleep without having dinner at all. My heartbeat was slow, slower than it was when I slept, and I felt like the sunshine was hitting me right in the face, blanketing me with warm light. There were butterflies in the room, a pleasant breeze from the summer season, a glare from the horizon. I was in a different place, lying in a meadow with this man beside me, watching me, holding me.
“What are you thinking about?” His deep voice came out as a whisper, as if it were an apparition in a dream.
“It’s stupid…”
“Nothing you think is stupid.”
My hand moved over his chest as I smiled. “For a second, I thought I was in a meadow…in the sunshine…with butterflies and tall blades of grass. Maybe I fell asleep for a second and fell into a dream.”
His fingers glided up my stomach, his hand outstretched so it covered me entirely. “Your eyes have been open the whole time, baby.”
“Then it wasn’t a dream…it was real.”
After he showered and got ready for the day, he headed to the door. “I have to go, baby.”
The flowers were in the vase on the kitchen island, bright yellow and still blooming, filled with the memory of summer. When the sun was out, those flowers helped me believe it wasn’t sixty degrees outside, but swelteringly hot instead. “No.” I moved in front of the door, blocking it with my body.
He tried not to laugh at my pathetic attempt to keep him here. “You know I would stay if I could.”
I moved into his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Please…”
He sighed deeply, like he might abandon everything just to stay with me. “Don’t make this hard for me.”
“No, I’m going to.” I kissed him good on the mouth, giving him openmouthed kisses that would entice him to come back to bed with me.
He almost fell for it, but he pulled his lips away and saw reason. “Nice try. You almost got me.” He cupped my cheeks and kissed my forehead before he moved to the door. “I’ve got a lot to do today. Come over later tonight.”
“When will you be home?”
He shrugged. “Sometime after seven.”
“Alright.” Sometimes I wished he lived with me. That way, I would see him every single day; I would never have to go long until he walked through the door again.
His hand moved into my hair, and he placed his forehead against mine. He kept it there for a long time, closing his eyes as he held me in my entryway. Then he kissed me goodbye, a gentle kiss that didn’t linger and turn into more.
“Bye.” I watched him walk out and shut the door behind himself.
I stood there, devastated, as if he’d just walked out of my life for good.
Patricia let me inside. “Hey, Catalina. I’ll let your father know you’re here.”
“Actually, I’m just here to see my brother. Has he come home yet?”
“About thirty minutes ago.” She stood in jeans and a nice blouse, looking nothing like a housekeeper when she wore cute clothes like that.
“Anna?”
“She hasn’t come home yet.” She examined my face, knowing something was wrong. “Everything alright, honey?”
“Yeah, just a long day.” I turned to the stairs. “I’ll let myself up.”
“Alright. Your father is taking a nap anyway. He’ll probably be awake by the time you’re finished.”
I took the stairs to the third floor. There was a maroon rug down the long hallway, over the dark hardwood floor. The right side was all windows and paintings in between, and the guest bedrooms were on another floor.
I approached the door but didn’t knock.
I almost turned around and left.
But I stood there, determined to do this, determined to have this conversation. I knocked.
“Yeah?” His response was immediate.
I opened the door and poked my head inside.
He sat at the dining table with his laptop in front of him, shirtless because he never seemed to wear clothes when he was home. It reminded me of Heath, who was hardly ever dressed when we stayed in together. “Is this a bad time?”
He shut his laptop. “Why don’t you ever call before you stop by?”
“You never tell me you’re coming to my performances. You just show up.”
“That’s a public event—not my private home.” He got out of the chair and walked inside his closet.
I took that as an invitation and sank into the chair across from his.
When he returned, his naked chest was covered by a gray shirt. His eyes didn’t give me any warmth before he sat across from me. Last time we saw each other, he offered to let me move in, to buy me my own place, but now he was back to business as usual. “I think Dad’s taking a nap.”
“Yeah, that’s what Patricia told me.”
He pushed the laptop aside and looked out the window for a second. “Nice to see you in jeans and a sweater.” He turned back to me.
“Yeah. I’m comfortable.”
He cocked his head slightly to the side, looking into my face as if he saw something he needed to hang on to. “Something wrong, Cat?”
Now that I was face-to-face with him, looking into my mother’s eyes, seeing so much of myself in him, I was more nervous than before. There was time to turn back, to abandon this idea, but I continued to sit there. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about…”
He cocked his head again, his eyes even more focused than they were before.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything,” he said immediately. “Whatever you want.”
That was a good answer.
