Chapter Twenty-Two
Basil
Challenge: Spend a day without the internet
The definition of insanity is falling in love with Chelsea Abbott.
She was like playing a video game and leveling up only to get defeated by friendly fire. And then having to start the game over again.
Or like spending hours on a beautiful soufflé but then ruining it by peeking in the oven too soon.
Or like putting together a complex puzzle and discovering the last piece is missing.
Or like falling in love with a beautiful, intelligent, funny, sensual woman despite her insistence you’re just friends.
In the past twenty-five days, I’d had glimmers of hope that she’d want to stop treading water and dive in, but she wasn’t ready yet. Maybe she’d never be.
And yet I stuck around because her friendship was worth it, but it was time to face reality. My future wasn’t in Virginia.
I’d planned to leave my parents’ house early, but we didn’t leave at all. We drank ouzo and danced, and I couldn’t let her go. One minute we were about to head to the car, the next we were lost in our own cocoon, pressed together, and suddenly, Ma was directing us to our separate sleeping quarters. “It’s too late to drive. You’ll stay here.”
I woke up with such a headache. I stumbled to the kitchen and discovered Chelsea at the counter, taking direction from Ma. I opened my mouth to object to this unholy alliance, but if Chelsea didn’t burn the house down, she’d make Ma tremendously happy.
Ma took the bowl away from Chelsea. “You want to scrape the bottom to fold in the flour. How did your mother not teach you this?”
I realized an intervention might be the better part of valor and coughed. Chelsea’s expression told me she hadn’t thought through her offer to play daughter-in-law, and she was drowning. “Can I borrow Chelsea, Ma?” I knew we’d never get out of the house without breakfast, so I needed a better excuse than to say we were leaving. “I want to give Chelsea her present.”
Chelsea frowned. “I thought you didn’t exchange gifts until New Year’s.”
It hadn’t occurred to me I might put her in an awkward position, and I started to tell her not to worry, but she said, “One sec,” and bolted from the room. She returned a moment later with a wrapped rectangle.
We sat in my parents’ living room on a bright gold sofa next to the tree, like little kids, and she started babbling.
“I didn’t think you’d want a cookbook, and kitchen gadgets are expensive and impersonal. So I made you something. It isn’t much, but I hope you like it.”
I was dying to know what she’d made for me and tore open the paper. It was a bracelet of really cool burnished metal with leather corded through.
“Wow.” I wrapped it around my wrist but couldn’t work the clasp with one hand.
She reached over to help me. “I know you don’t wear jewelry, so this was probably a dumb idea, but I hope maybe it will make you think of me.” She bit her lip with a wince. “In a good way.”
As if I ever stopped thinking of her.
“This is great.” Honestly, I was astounded that she’d taken the time to create something unique and personal just for me. It was so Chelsea.
After the thoughtful gift she’d freaking crafted specifically for me, I felt a stab of embarrassment over the store-bought necklace she was beginning to unwrap. She ripped off the paper, lifted the lid, and gasped. “Oh my God. It’s gorgeous.”
“The sapphire will look perfect with your dark hair.” My voice sounded thick to me, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Her eyes glistened. “This is not a little thing, Bas. Nobody has ever given me jewelry before. It’s perfect. And I’ll think of you whenever I wear it.” She wiggled the chain loose from the black velvet insert and unfastened it. “Will you help me?”
She twisted around and lifted her hair, and I resisted the urge to brush her skin with my mouth. The moment was perfectly romantic, exactly as if I’d scripted it in my fantasies. Except that my mom was running the garbage disposal in the kitchen, and at any minute my dad would come bumbling through.
Once I’d clasped the hook, I loosed the chain and let the weight of the sapphire pendant pull it taut. My fingers didn’t stray from the nape of her neck, and I caressed the curve where the metal now lay. So sensual. If she turned around now, I’d need to kiss her.
“Turn around, Chelsea.” My lips were a breath away from the goose bumps on her skin. “I want to see.”
She shifted to model the jewelry, but her eyes didn’t drop away from mine, and I couldn’t drag my gaze down to the necklace.
Her lips parted, and I expected her to say, “Merry Christmas.” I prayed she’d lean in and kiss me, but she said, “Can we try again?”
I sat up straight, stunned by the promise in her statement. “What do you mean?”
“I wish we weren’t about to be separated right now.” She touched my wrist. “Maybe when we get home, we could talk about what it might look like if we were more than friends.”
“Chelsea—”
There was a touch of that manic fear in her eyes that I remembered from the night she invited me in to her house. Had she guessed that I might not be coming back from Greece? She knew about my uncle’s restaurant. She had to know I’d be going over to consider taking a job and might decide to stay. I hadn’t fully committed, but I owed him a fair chance. I wouldn’t back out at this late date.
She bit her lip, laughing off the very vulnerable admission. “It’s just that I’ve gotten spoiled having you to myself every day.”
My heart cramped, and I searched her eyes for the truth. I wanted to confess all my secrets. I wanted to tell her I loved her, that I wanted her. If she was ready to take our relationship to the next level, I’d move heaven and earth to be with her. If there was a chance I’d have a real future with her to come home to, I’d book the return flight today.
But I reminded myself of the moral of an Aesop’s fable: ?να χελιδ?νι δεν φ?ρνει την ?νοιξη. One swallow does not make the spring.
I didn’t take her change of heart lightly, but I had to wonder: Was she motivated by love for me? Or just the fear of losing a friend?