Chapter 19
Gabriel: #PenguinInAFlamingoParty
I park the car and open the door for Nora to step out. She takes my arm and for a moment I stand rooted to the spot outside the gate, unsure of the lie. Or is it the truth that we’re spreading?
Nora straightens her back, flicks her hair, and takes a deep breath. “Well, game on,” she says and puts a smile on her face.
I feel like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a betrayer to my closest friend. She thinks she’s doing it for appearances, helping me out, while me… All I can think of is getting my lips on hers again, of feeling her skin on mine. I’m probably the worst friend one could have. Am I worse than Brutus? Who knows? I don’t even remember the play very well.
“Well, your house sure has changed over the years,” Nora says, pulling me in through the gates.
I nod. The house has changed. It’s become bigger, grander, more stylish. To me, however, it’s more a fashion statement than home now—a lavish space right out of a home-interior magazine. I don’t recognize this place anymore than I do a hotel I stay in for work. To others, it may seem like an upgrade, but not to me.
As if sensing my thoughts, Nora squeezes my arm. “You miss your old home?” she asks. “To be honest, I do too. I guess I spent as much time here as I did in my own home. So yeah, I miss our spaces that had so many memories.”
“Ah, my two favorite people are finally here,” comes Dad’s booming voice as he walks toward us with outstretched arms. “Nora! How’ve you been? Don’t you miss seeing this old man? I’ve missed you. And Gabriel. How are you? And I can’t say how glad I am to know that you two finally saw what I knew many years ago—that you’re meant to be together.”
I cough at his words, happy to hear them but wondering how Nora would take them. He hugs us both tightly. “Welcome home, both of you.”
“George, don’t suffocate them, please,” Mom says, peeking out from the window.
Dad lets us go and pats us on the back. “You both go right in and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll get someone to take your luggage to your room. Okay? Lovely to have you both back home,” Dad says, smiling from ear to ear.
We go inside. I dare not even look at Nora for fear of what her expressions will tell me. Dad makes things really weird, I must say.
“Hi darlings,” Mom says, giving us both a peck on the cheek. “How was the drive?”
“It was fine, thank you,” Nora says.
“The guests will arrive soon. If you like, you can freshen up and change upstairs or rest for a while. It’s just an intimate gathering. Only close friends. And Nora, my dear, thank you for coming today. It’s been a long time.”
Nora smiles. “Thank you for inviting me, Daphne. As always, it’s good to see you.”
They both can act super formal with each other and not even feel awkward about it. Well, this is supposed to be me introducing Mom to my girlfriend. Should I say something? Do something? Jesus! They already know each other. What should I say to make it believable?
“Um. Okay,” I say, feeling as awkward as a penguin in a flamingo party. “What time should we come down?”
“In an hour? Nora, will that be enough time for you to get ready?”
“I can be ready even in five minutes, Daphne, if you need me to. Don’t worry about me at all.”
Mom laughs her artificial laugh and Nora echoes it. “Of course you can. I’ll see you in an hour, then. And Gabriel,” she turns to me. “Je suis vraiment heureuse de te voir.” She kisses me on the cheek again and floats away to the other side of the room.
Nora is already walking up the stairs. I follow her to my room and as soon as I close the door behind me, she bursts out laughing.
“This is going to be fun. Daphne seems to be more ceremonial and queen-like every time I meet her. What’s up with her? And what has she done to your real mom, the woman who baked muffins for us when we were kids? Could she be a witch who has eaten her and taken her place?”
This was a thing we often said as kids once we were back from France after my grandfather’s death.
“I guess she was always like this. But when she didn’t have so much money to spare, she had stifled this persona of hers inside. I don’t know. She was always nicer to you than to me then.”
“Yeah, and that changed completely after she returned from Paris. If not for George, I would’ve stopped coming here after that. Remember how she used to scoff at my dresses and my braces?”
I hold her by the shoulders. “If she’s mean to you today, you let me know, okay? I’ll call her out on it right then and there. I don’t care if it’s in front of a hundred other people. No one. No one at all will get away with being mean to you. Not when you’re my guest. My girlfriend.”
It feels nice to say that.
“Ooh,” she says, stepping closer to me, barely inches away. “You’re taking this girlfriend thing quite seriously.”
“I am. When I do something, I do it fully.”
I look into her eyes, our gazes locked. I pull her closer, our faces so close that I can feel her warm breath on my lips. Her breathing quickens and I bend my face a little. She closes her eyes and pouts her lips. Oh, sweet Jesus. Does she want it too? Should I kiss those delicious lips?
The indecisiveness costs me the kiss because a knock on the door breaks the moment. Nora quickly disengages herself and steps into the washroom while I open the door. It’s a liveried man, holding our bags. Yes, Mom has a few helpers who are now dressed in uniforms. Talk about being ostentatious.
“Thank you,” I say as he places them inside.
“You need anything else, sir?” he asks before leaving.
Only for you to have come a few minutes later, I want to say, but shake my head and curse him internally instead.
“I’ll take a quick shower and then get ready,” Nora says, peeping out of the bathroom door.
“You need any help?” I ask and then feel my cheeks heating. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I mumble as she raises her eyebrows.
“I didn’t say you did,” she says, smiling. “But no, I think I can manage just fine on my own.”
She shuts the door, and I hear her locking it from inside. What was I thinking? Have I gone nuts? Do I want our friendship to be over? I really am a relationship killer.
You need any help!
How dumb can anyone be asking something like that?
I open my bag and take out the shirt and suit I plan to wear for dinner. Mom has become quite particular about these parties, expecting me to dress formally. I don’t mind it, so I don’t argue. Dad, however, hates it, but he, too, doesn’t argue. I don’t think it would make much difference if he did. He’d still have to wear it, so he accepts it with humility.
Nora comes out in around fifteen minutes, wrapped in a towel, which comes up to her mid-thighs. I can see part of her cleavage, her wet hair falling around her face, water dripping down her neck, down to her breasts.
I feel a movement between my thighs as blood rushes there, leaving my brain numb and my eyes roving all over her, hoping to unwrap the towel with my eyes.
“I think you better get going if you don’t wanna be late to your own party,” she says, punching me lightly on the shoulder.
“Me? Um, yeah. Right. Um. I need to go and… yeah… have a bath. See you.”
I open the shower and stand underneath it. It doesn’t help, so I go about jerking myself off to the image I just saw. The image that is now imprinted on my brain. I’m astonished at myself, behaving like a teenager in front of his first crush. The one who can’t think clearly, act properly, or speak coherently.
I look in the mirror. It’s me! Gabriel. Women love me. Nay, they adore me. I’ve never, ever behaved or felt like this. Why now? She’s Nora for God’s sake. My childhood friend. Not a celebrity I’ve had a crush on. Get a grip! I hold the counter so tightly that my knuckles go white.
Finally, I dry myself, put on my shirt and trousers, and open the door. She’s sitting on the stool, putting on her earrings. She’s wearing a beige off-shoulder gown, her hair, now dry, is tied in a bun, and her eyes look bigger and prettier than ever.
Once the earring is in place, she stands up and twirls around. “How do I look?”
“Like an angel,” I say, unable to take my eyes off her face.
“I hope it’s not too much for a home dinner party. But your mom usually likes formal affairs, so…”
“You’re perfect. I mean, the dress. It’s perfect.”
I quickly put on my blazer and shoes when Mom calls me on the phone and says that the guests have arrived and we need to go down.
“Shall we?” I ask, giving her my arm. She wraps her hand around mine and I glance in the mirror. “We look good together.”
She nods. “We do. This is an excellent opportunity to make your parents believe we’re in love. So, what’s the plan?”
“The plan?”
“I mean, is any PDA required? Given that we’re a new couple, isn’t that what’ll be expected?”
“PDA? You mean like holding hands?”
“What are we? Twelve? No. Maybe a tiny little kiss in a corner of the room or something when your mom is watching. What say?”
Wow! Of course. Any number of times. We can do a trial run now if you want.
“Yeah, if you think that’ll help,” I reply with as straight a face as I can muster and lead her out of the room.