Then, she was ordering almost every pierogi on the menu.
And I was thinking of football and stray dogs and my mom and anything else I could conjure up to ward off the erection threatening to grow in my very wet, very stuck-to-every-inch-of-me pants.
Despite its rugged, somewhat rundown appearance, it was easy to see how the restaurant had such great reviews once we’d finished eating. The pierogies were out of this world, perfectly fried little pillows of potato heaven, with different fillings and garnishes that left us both maybe a little past comfortably full by the time we were done.
The rain had come and gone, but we were still damp as we walked down the street to where the theatre was. I tried offering a car a million times so Belle could go back and change, but she insisted she was fine, and we walked into the theatre with our heads held high — despite the fact that our clothes were wrinkled and damp, Belle’s hair looked like a bird’s nest, and my shoes squeaked every time I walked.
“These seats are insane,” Belle said when we were settled in, her eyes lighting up as she took in the stage design from our center orchestra view. She cocked a brow when she looked at me again. “Look at you, big baller. Real estate must pay well, huh?”
She said it with an easy chuckle, her eyes back on the stage design without a second thought, but just that little sentence had my mind racing, wondering if there was something more under the words. Was she hinting that she knew I did more than real estate? Was she already thinking of all the other nice places I could take her, the things I could buy for her?
As soon as that last thought hit me, I mentally slapped myself. I knew better than to think Belle needed my money. She could joke about me springing for the tickets all she wanted, but I knew that if she wanted, she could spend her own money and easily afford these, too.
Okay, maybe not as easily as I could, but I knew she held her own.
Again, my mind was racing, and the only relief I found was that the lights flickered three times, signaling that it was time for everyone to take their seats. Belle looked at me with an excited little wiggle dance in her seat, and then we both sat back, and the show began.
Moulin Rouge! was a new show on Broadway, based on Baz Luhrmann’s revolutionary film that released in 2001. I still remembered the first time I saw the movie — not in the theater, because that was a rare occurrence for a family as big as ours — but in a pile of siblings on my living room floor. I remembered my two older sisters, Pania and Tamar, braiding each other’s hair as we watched, their eyes lit up like they couldn’t wait to be in love that desperately. My younger sister, Leinani, was a little too young to care about any movie that wasn’t a cartoon, so she mostly played with her dolls next to me on the floor. Mom and Dad on the couch, Oliana growing inside Mom’s belly, and I was right there in the middle of it all, pretending like I was bored, when the truth was that I was right there with my two older sisters.
Enamored, completely swept away with thoughts of Paris and freedom and love.
I was only nine years old. I should have been in my room playing with my G.I. Joes or out learning how to surf with my best friend, Akamu.
Instead, I was leaned back against the foot of the couch, arms crossed, acting like I was annoyed and couldn’t wait for that movie to be over. But I loved every minute of it. And I’d watched it at least a dozen times since then.
But I realized before the first act was even over that none of those times would compare to this.
The costumes were dazzling and bright and luxurious, the stage design elaborate and magical. We weren’t just watching Moulin Rouge!, we were in Moulin Rouge! Every new song pulled me in, deeper and deeper, and all the while, Belle was there at my side, on the edge of her seat just as much as I was, both of us enraptured by the actors and actresses and dancers on stage.
But, as amazing as the show was, there was one little problem that kept us both from being fully immersed…
We were freezing.
The air was turned down to combat the summer heat, which — on a normal occasion — would be a blessed relief for a man in a suit and a woman in a ball gown. But as it was, we were still damp, and the longer we sat there, the more we shivered.
By the time intermission rolled around, my muscles were stiff from trembling so much, and Belle’s teeth were chattering enough to chew through a tree trunk.
“I’m going to run to the restroom,” she said. “And maybe hold my hands under the hot water for a solid two minutes.”
I chuckled. “I’ll grab us some wine.”
“Oh, good idea! That’ll help warm us up.”
We broke like two soldiers on a mission, me going one way and her the other.
I bought us a bottle of , along with some popcorn and chocolates. I was on my way back to our seats when I spotted the merchandise booth, and my eyes lit up at a particular item. I reached for my wallet again without a second thought, and with my new acquirements in tow, I headed back inside.
“Ohhhh, merlot,” Belle cooed when I rejoined her at the seats. “Man after my heart.”
I chuckled to hide the fact that yes, I was very much indeed after said heart. “Just wait until I
