“Yeah, sure,” Brad replied.
I did as I was told, not uttering a single word.
“Dr. Pepper with extra cherries, Love,” Demien said as he dropped off my soda and moved on to his next task.
“Is she okay?” Brad asked Demien.
“Oh, yeah, just a little overwhelmed. You know Ves, she’ll be just fine.” His words were completely relaxed, showing no sign of emotion after what happened in the sink area.
I glanced around to see everyone carrying on as normal. No one seemed to have noticed a thing. I knew if Myra had witnessed our show, she would have been at my side demanding details by now. Her tables would just have had to wait. She was serving her tables as usual. Had I imagined it or lost myself in a daydream? It had to be real. It felt so real. I sipped on my soda, trying to find my sanity, which was cracking at the seams.
Healthy people could decipher reality and fantasy. I no longer could.
“Hey, let’s hurry and get out of here,” I whispered to Myra as the meeting came to order. Myra stood to my right, and Demien was nowhere to be seen.
“Sure,” she replied in a disinterested tone.
After the meeting was dismissed, I grabbed Myra’s shirt sleeve and dragged her out to the car.
“What’s up, Ves? You have been acting strange all night.”
“Did you not notice?” My voice was shaky.
“Notice what particularly? I noticed you and Demien awfully close at the dish station. I noticed your body collapses a little every time he gets close to you, which, may I add, is a lot.” Her tone was playfully serious. “At this point, I’m not sure how you stay stable when he’s within a hundred feet.”
“Whatever, Myra,” I rudely replied. I guess it was all in my head. I needed to get a grip on myself.
“I’m freakin’ serious. Do you not see it? You almost faint or go into shock or something every time he is near you. I should pull out my phone next time and record your reaction to him. I think he’s put a spell on you.” She laughed.
“You are being ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes as I turned on to Main Street.
“You guys just need to do it already or at least have a really hot make-out session.”
I ignored her last comment. Had I really imagined it? My imagination had never been so real and detailed as it had been lately. I just didn’t know anymore. I cringed at the realization that I may have been insane, just like my sister.
Eighteen
We arrived home to find my car in my parking space.
“Looks like your car is fixed. I’ll come get you tomorrow for work anyways, okay? We seem to have much to talk about after tonight.”
“Yeah, sure, thanks. See you tomorrow.” I climbed out of the passenger seat. My eyes concentrated on Demien, leaning against my car.
“How? Did you do that?” I asked as I approached him.
“I told you I would fix it. I am a man who keeps his promises. It runs like new again.” He patted the hood where his hand had been resting.
I didn’t bother asking what was wrong with it. I knew nothing about cars. “Thank you. It’s cleaner than when I was forcibly removed from it,” I whispered.
“Of course, I cleaned it for you. What kind of mechanic would I be if I returned it less than perfect?”
I couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. Not many mechanics would willingly clean the car before returning it. I simply smiled. I didn’t want to risk saying anything less than intelligent.
“Let’s get you inside.” He led me to the door where I pulled out my house keys and unlocked the door. It dawned on me that he didn’t have keys to my car; yet, there it was, sitting in the driveway. I looked up at him. His eyes tightened. “Zanj, just go inside,” he said cryptically, as if he could read my mind. The expression in his black eyes was advising me that I didn’t want to know the answer. I took that unspoken advice even though I was aching to know the unknown. I had to remember that I was the “cat” and he was “curiosity.”
“Want some hot tea or somethin’?” I asked as I headed to the kitchen.
“Sure, sounds nice. I’ll help.” He followed me to the kitchen.
“Thanks,” I replied.
“When will your sister be home?” Demien asked.
“Um, not sure. I don’t think she’ll be home until tomorrow morning. Why?”
“No reason, just asking.”
I filled the kettle with water from the tap and placed it on the stove to boil. I turned around and Demien had the tea bags and a couple mugs out on the table.
I eyed him suspiciously. “How did you know where to find the mugs?”
“I got lucky,” he said as he scratched his eyebrow with his thumbnail. His answer sounded more like a question than a statement.
After we sat down in front of our mugs full of delicious hot white peony tea, Demien placed a black velvet box in front of me.
“What’s this?” I asked in bewilderment.
“Don’t open it now.”
“I can’t open it?”
“Put it away until later,” he whispered.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m hoping one day you will understand. Only then will it be right for you to open the box. You will know when to open it. If you aren’t the right one, it will not open for you.”
We drank our tea in silence.
Finally, I broke the silence. “Are you hungry?”
“Not particularly. Are you?”
“No,” I replied. “Do you have plans for what’s left of the night?”
“Err, I have some…” he paused, musingly, “homework to do,”
