Chapter 12 #3
“I’ll start setting everything out where I think it will look best, and we’ll go from there. Is your ladder in the basement?”
“That’s right.” Bellatrix’s cheeks are pink. She ducks her face as she races past me and takes the stairs two at a time.
I give Mika my best stern dad look, but she sticks her tongue out at me and then says, “Be a darling and go down to the creepy unfinished basement of dungeon doom and get the ladder?”
I nod but walk over to the kitchen counter where Mika’s standing. “If this is going to happen, it has to happen naturally. No forcing it.”
“By that logic, you can’t force against it either then,” she insists.
It’s safer to get the ladder than to continue this conversation, so I do. The basement is fine and not scary at all. It’s pretty much empty but warm and dry, with a few boxes on a pallet in the corner and a pop-up table with a few toolboxes.
Bellatrix is back and helping Mika by the time I make my way up the stairs. The ladder is long and precarious, and I don’t want to punch holes in the drywall on the narrow staircase.
Bellatrix has changed into a pair of tight-fitting overalls that give her a wedgie. The attractive kind. She’s also got a short, fitting, cropped black tee on underneath that shows off the slightest scrap of creamy skin.
“Even Bellatrix has tattoos,” Mika drops as soon as I crest the landing and shut the door to the basement.
“Mika, hush!” Bellatrix hisses. “That has nothing to do with anything.”
“Take him for one. He’d end up liking it, and then he’d be covered. A tattooed zaddy.”
Bellatrix quickly picks up the wallpaper and unrolls it. She marches to the wall and holds it up. “This. I like this one!”
“You know…” Mika considers, slanting a hip out in her black dress.
Her spider web tights got four different compliments at the home renovation stores we went to, and one girl told her that her platform boots were freaking awesome as balls.
“I think you’re right.” She snaps her fingers.
“With the emerald paint on the other walls in here, it would do nicely.”
“We should probably watch a video on how to install this stuff first. It says renter-friendly, but I have my doubts.”
“We’ll do that,” Mika agrees before motioning to me. “Dad can move the furniture around.”
“Ahh. Now I know why you really brought me,” I say.
“I brought you because I’m hoping you’ll ask Bellatrix out on a proper date.”
Bellatrix groans. I groan. But Mika just smiles her most innocent smile.
If she wanted to motivate me to tackle the furniture, she’s done it.
I get everything away from the walls while Mika and Bellatrix start wallpapering on the far side of the room.
It’s a lovely pattern, dark green, with a forest theme of trees, leaves, little bushes, small sprigs of flowers, and animals like deer and rabbits.
It’s cute while being mature and lovely at the same time.
While they work, they discuss the rest of the colors for the house.
The room will be mostly green with a feature wall of wallpaper.
Then, the green will change over to black for the kitchen, with the flamingo wallpaper dominating most of it.
They also talk about copper ceiling tiles, wainscotting, and, eventually, crown molding.
The more they talk, the more I can see Bellatrix coming alive.
She’s animated, smiling, and radiant. Best of all, she’s more relaxed.
She’s effortlessly beautiful and happy at this moment.
But I don’t watch her directly because that would ruin everything.
Instead, I make sure I’m fully absorbed in moving heavy objects around so they won’t get splattered with paint.
My mind drifts back to Europe. I’ve been to Europe plenty of times. And I liked it well enough.
But not this trip.
Getting sick had nothing to do with it. The business I had to conduct had nothing to do with it.
I just wanted to be here and have Bellatrix plan more wild, fun things for us. I wanted her to try to show me how to feel alive because it was working.
I became very good at shutting down, and I had to teach myself how not to care because it hurt so much that it would have killed me.
I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just let it wash over me, even if it lasted for years.
What I did wasn’t the answer. I shouldn’t have given up on the things I loved.
I’m very blessed to be here now with Mika and in her life without a single hesitation on her part. And being here with Bellatrix again? It’s like all the emotions I locked down have sprung the lock and are flapping mad, giddy wings around the room.
Kind of like the flamingo wallpaper that will be going up shortly.
That’s me. A happy flamingo. A happy flamingo who in no way deserves this chance.
I throw myself into painting, determined to give both Mika and Bellatrix a finished project they can be proud of. It’s an honor to be a part of something that makes them both so happy.
The hours tick away, and the room slowly transforms from what Mika calls “millennial grey” to an emerald and enchanted forest. Despite the black paint, the kitchen doesn’t look smaller, and the flamingos do look just as startled and wild on the wall as they did on the roll, but they suit the place. It’s vibrant and classy.
“We can go thrifting and change up your décor. It doesn’t have to happen all at once. And with those copper ceiling tiles we’ll get and the new lights…this place is going to be banging!”
“You slayed it,” Bellatrix responds, brushing up against Mika with a massive smile and a dreamy expression lighting her face. “I can’t even believe this is my house.”
“Wait until we start on the upstairs! And the flooring will make such a huge difference.” Mika retrieves her phone from the giant black bat that is her purse and takes a few photos.
Then, she glances at the time and lets out a cry of surprise that is totally forced.
“Oh, goodness. Look at that. I have an appointment I have to run to. I’ll just leave you two here to finish off.
” She races for the door and slips her feet into her massive platform boots while waving at us both.
“Call me tomorrow, and we’ll go look at flooring and lighting and all that. Bye!”
She’s out the door before either of us can protest.
That leaves us both in the kitchen. I haven’t even climbed down from the ladder where I was finishing trimming out the black on the wall behind the table.
Bellatrix turns slowly with a slightly horrified expression on her face that she washes away quickly. “Uh, I think maybe Mika’s right. A small chandelier right there would do wonders for the place.”
All I can do is nod and slap my hand under the brush before it drips.
We’re totally silent for at least a moment that feels more like an hour.
Bellatrix rocks up on her toes and then falls back on her heels. “Uh, do you want more tea? I’m feeling a little parched myself.”
“Tea. Yes. That would be great.”
She’s only a few feet away in the small kitchen, filling the kettle, getting out more mugs, and measuring out the matcha powder to stir into each with the wooden whisk thing.
She’s not watching me, but I feel her presence.
It’s all around this kitchen. The soft floral scent of her skin and hair, the strong matcha that tastes a little like swamp and old feet, but not in a bad way…
Her laughter. Her smiles. Her books, her dishes, her things.
This place is entirely hers, even when she thought it was soulless.
I finish trimming out the line I was doing, then stop and close my eyes, inhaling deeply.
Either I’m going for it, or I’m never going for it. I can’t just stay in this place in the middle.
When I climb down from the ladder, though, it’s not can I take you on a real date as Mika said that comes out.
Instead, what comes out is much more impersonal and professional.
“Mika told me that you lost your job. I know it wasn’t really because of me, but I still feel responsible.
I’d like to…to…no, that doesn’t have anything to do with it.
I’d like you to come and work for me. At the hotel.
In the lounge. Playing the piano. If you…
if you’d like. People should hear you. You’re magic.
I’ll pay you well, and then you won’t have to worry about rushing to find another job.
You can take your time and still do something you enjoy in the interim. ”
She spins around quickly without answering me, pours the water, and whisks madly. “I can’t do that.” Her soft response drifts up. “It’s a mercy offer.”
“It’s not a mercy offer!”
“Working for you would be complicated.” There’s an if that she hasn’t tacked on, so I wait for it, frozen solid.
“How so?” After an eternity, I edge closer and push my finger through the handle of the mug, dragging it to the edge of the island.
Bellatrix stands by the sink, so there’s a good few feet between us. “It would be complicated if we were dating. Maybe.”
I don’t know what the maybe is. The dating part, or the complicated part.
And maybe she doesn’t know either, but she’s the one who moves first. Her overalls swish with her big, hurried steps as she strides over to me, fists her hand in my shirt, and looks up at me.
Her pupils are completely dilated, her lips soft and rosy and so inviting.
“I’d like to play you like I play the piano. I’d like to be magic with you.”
“Yes,” I hiss-squeal, sounding far too high-pitched. Is this really happening? I have only one honest response to give her, even if honesty isn’t always the best policy. Even if I should probably shut it down and use logic and reason and go slow. “Magic with you sounds like the best thing ever.”