61. What Love Is
Roman
I was sitting in front of my laptop when the doorbell rang. I almost didn’t answer it. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I didn’t especially want to see anyone.
The doorbell rang again. I swore, closed the laptop, and padded over in my stocking feet to open the door.
Summer. In jeans and trainers and a jacket, holding a plate covered with foil.
I blinked at her. “Hi. Didn’t know you were coming.” My voice sounded a bit rusty, somehow. I hadn’t talked to anybody in a couple of days, that was all.
She said, “I brought you dinner. Did you eat?”
“Uh …” I ran a hand through my hair. “No. Not for a bit.”
“Then you need to eat.” She handed me the plate, took off the trainers, then picked up my laptop and moved it to the coffee table without so much as a by-your-leave. “I’ll keep you company. Do you want a beer?”
This was odd. “Yeh,” I said.
“I’ll have one, too,” she said, and went to the fridge to get the cans and pour them out, grabbing a knife and fork along the way.
I took the cover off the plate and sat down, since that seemed to be the next step. “Lamb chops,” I said. “Looks choice.” My stomach growled, so clearly, I was hungrier than I’d thought. Potato mash and green beans as well. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes,” she said, setting down my beer and then sliding in across from me. “It’s almost nine o’clock, Roman.”
“Oh.” I cut a piece of lamb, put it in my mouth, and nearly had to close my eyes. “That’s good.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” she said, and I had to smile. “I marinated it. Parsley blended with garlic and olive oil and various other things.”
I cut another bite of lamb and added some mash to the fork. Even better. “I don’t want to ask, because I’m rapt, of course, that you’re here—and with food—but …”
“But I’ve never come over unannounced before,” she said. “I’m guarded. I keep my boundaries up. Et cetera.”
“Yeh,” I said, eating with some attention now. “That.”
“Esther came to see me,” she said.
I sat with my fork in midair, I was that surprised. Then, of course, I started eating again, because I was pretty well starved. “Esther did? My Esther? Tall woman, conservatively dressed, doesn’t smile much?”
“Yes. She came to see me and said I needed to come be with you.”
“Uh …” I said. “Why, exactly?”
“Roman.” For once, she seemed exasperated. Not part of Summer’s normal emotional range. “Because your grandfather died?”
“Oh. That. Still. That’s odd, for Esther.” I kept eating. The green beans were as good as everything else, or I was just that hungry.
“Yes,” she said. “She was supposed to help you with some paperwork yesterday, but you begged off. Which apparently never happens. You told her your grandfather had died.”
“I did?” I tried to remember. I thought I’d been going on perfectly normally. Busy, that was all. I’d worked out. I’d showered. I’d worked. I hadn’t slept much and had apparently forgotten to eat, but …
“Yes,” she said. “You did. Roman. Koro died? I’m not surprised—he looked frail as smoke that last night when I saw him, and Matiu was concerned, I know, but—what a loss. What a blow.”
My fork was rattling against my nearly empty plate. That was odd, too. “What last night?” I asked, trying to focus.
“The night before we left,” she said. “After I’d run away from you. I ran into Matiu, and he took me with him to see Koro. We talked, just a little, and he was so … comforting. So wise. I felt like I’d been touched by something special. Something rare. Like a gift.” Her eyes had filled with tears, the first time since the airport, and I put out a hand. She grabbed it and held on. “Getting to know him just that little bit, and then having him be gone. I feel almost like … I should have gone back, I shouldn’t have wasted all this time, but I’m not his whanau. I’m sure he had so many …”
Two lines of tears were running down her cheeks, glinting in the low light, because I’d forgotten to turn on more than a single lamp. I said, “Here,” and went for the box of tissues. “I still have them,” I tried to joke. “Just in case. Good thing, eh.”
She wiped her eyes and nose and said, “If I wish I’d had more time, how must you feel? You just found your whanau, and now …”
I opened my mouth to say, “They’re not really my whanau. It’s not what you think.” What came out was, “I saw him again, too.”
“You did?” Her face lit up, even though her mouth was still trembling. “I’m glad. When?”
“That morning,” I said. “Before we left the Mount. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Because of me,” she said. “Roman, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I waved it away. “I went early. Hemi was there as well. And you’re right. Koro said some … some things. Not many things. He was tired. But what he said …” It was surprisingly hard to draw a breath. “Was that I was … accepted. Wanted.” I could barely get the last word out. “Loved.”
Summer
I didn’t wonder anymore if I’d been right to come. I didn’t wonder anything at all. I was around the table, pulling Roman to his feet, and holding on. His arms went around me like that was where they needed to be, he buried his face against my hair, and he …
Shook.
Oh, no. Oh, no. I should have been here yesterday. I should have …
I was walking with him to the couch, sinking down with him, pulling his head into my chest the same way he’d done with me, but he turned away, put an arm over his face.
“Roman.” My heart hurt so much, I didn’t think I could stand it. “Roman. It’s OK. It’s OK. You loved him, and you lost him, and it was too short. And it hurts.”
His elbows on his knees, then, his face buried in his hands. He cried, and I rubbed his back and wished with everything I had that I could take this pain away. That I could feel it for him. All I could do was be here, though, so I did that. I sat with him in the shadows and sent my love into him. A shaft of golden light, going from my heart into his.
Love like longing. Love like pain.
Murimuri aroha.
When he was done and was sitting, wiping his hand over his nose, breathing hard, I went for the tissues and handed them to him, and he said, “Thanks,” wiped up, and didn’t look at me.
I said, “Come on. Let’s lie down. I need to hold you.”
“I don’t need—” he began.
“But I do,” I said. “I hurt, and you hurt, and this is what love is. This moment right now. I need to be with you.”
For the first time, I went to bed with him and we didn’t make love. I undressed him, and he undressed me, and then we held each other close under the covers for a long, long time. I smelled his scent, the cedar and spice of him, but most of all, I felt him. I put my hand on his beating heart, I kissed his chest, and I felt the boy he’d been, too strong too soon. And the man he was now. His strength was his sword and his shield, but sometimes, you have to lay down your weapons. Sometimes, you can’t protect yourself anymore. That was all right, though, because I was here.
They say the skin is the largest organ in the body. Maybe your skin sends the message to your heart, I thought hazily as I hovered with him there, between waking and sleep. Maybe it’s not your brain at all. Maybe it’s your … skin that sends the light to somebody … else. Maybe it’s your skin that really …
Knows.