40
I don’t remember when, or more importantly how, he managed to pull it off, but Abrams got me to promise I’d come by his place to work on my short film before spring break.
He was afraid I’d fall behind or neglect my work during the week off—which does admittedly tend to wreak havoc on students’ study habits.
Clearly, he was imagining the stereotypical Californian spring break: massive pool parties, ultra-skimpy outfits, spectacularly stupid stunts, binge drinking, debauchery, and every kind of excess.
The long and short of it is that spring break starts tomorrow, and tonight I’m obligated to attend a study session with my know-it-all professor and a gloomy old Basset Hound who gets a little more sluggish every time I see him—and smells a little worse, too.
Except tonight is also the night Vadim is supposed to go for a drink with Roman, after I spent days and days trying to convince him to give his brother another chance.
And of course, I had promised to come too; that was part of the deal.
Tomorrow, at the crack of dawn, we leave for Santa Catalina Island, my suitcase isn’t packed, and I still have to squeeze two evenings into one.
Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth…
Right after letting Vadim know that I’ll be a little late, for reasons I keep as vague as possible, I ring Mr. Abrams’s doorbell at exactly six o’clock.
I hope to be able to escape in an hour’s time.
And I’ve already got it all planned out: the excuse will be a family dinner, specifically the Lancaster tradition of getting everyone together on the eve of school vacations, before everyone goes their separate ways. It’s plausible.
Caleb answers the door, his expression even more tense than usual. For a split second, I wonder if something happened to his father. A heart attack, a car accident, a nervous breakdown? I hope it’s nothing serious… but enough that we are forced to postpone.
I enter, and it hits me that Mr. Abrams isn’t even home. Hitchcock is lying at the foot of Abrams’s armchair looking forlorn, his eyelids red and drooping. He’s whining and begging for his master to be returned to him.
“This dog is a such a pain. He just gives up on life whenever my dad isn’t here. Well, ‘his’ dad!” Caleb sighs as he steps over the mutt.
“What can I say? There’s always a favorite son!” I joke.
“Yeah, and I knew right away it wouldn’t be me!”
“Is your dad going to be home soon? We’re supposed to work, and I don’t have a lot of time.”
“You can leave whenever you want. He’s going to be home late.”
“Oh? He forgot about me? Weird, that doesn’t sound like him. A date?”
“No. Well, yes, kind of. Let’s just say that a date is the reason, but he’s not on one…” Cal stammers, looking at his feet.
“I don’t get what you mean.”
Unfortunately, though, I think I’m starting to understand.
“Actually, um… How can I put this? I couldn’t bring myself to ask you out somewhere, so my dad suggested inviting you here. There. Now you’re going to make fun of me, and on top of that, I’m indebted to him for life. I think I’m done for.”
“It’s some kind of trap, then…” Feeling uncomfortable, maybe even a little scared, I force a smile.
“I promise you, at the time, it seemed like a good idea. You can leave, you know. I’d understand.”
I think Caleb has finally realized just how problematic this situation is.
He gives me an embarrassed smile, then starts pushing his glasses up his nose, over and over, like a nervous tic.
I need to tell him that the plan he cooked up with his father is neither touching nor merely clumsy—and definitely not normal.
“I know you didn’t mean any harm, but you can’t do that, Cal.
Lying and trapping someone in the hope that it turns into a date.
Especially when you’re a guy dealing with a girl.
We’re already prey, all the time: on the street, at college, at parties, on the beach, at night, when we go for a run, on social media, and in front of a camera.
We have to be careful all the time, do you understand?
Ask the women around you… your mom, your cousins, your exes.
We’ve all experienced it at some point. So, think about what it means if, on top of that, we have to be wary of our own friends.
You guys, the ones who aren’t complete jerks, are supposed to be our allies. ”
“You’re right, Alma, I’m a real asshole.
I think I got everything mixed up. I’ve always been considered weird—people tell me that all the time.
But you looked at me differently. You got to know me without judging me.
From the beginning, I’ve liked the way you accepted me as I am.
And I like the way you understand what I try to say.
I don’t know… It felt good, and… I thought I had a chance. ”
“I see. You could have just told me that, Caleb.”
“I know… And it would have saved me from losing my dignity. Like I am right now.”
“It’s true that this isn’t your finest moment,” I say with a wry smile, aiming to wrap things up.
“So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to apologize and show you to the door. That will save both of us the agony of letting this painfully awkward moment drag on. And yes, alright, no need to insist, I’ll say hi to my dad for you! No need to pet Hitch on your way out, either. See ya, Alma!”
It’s 6:20 p.m. when I find myself back on the street, stunned by the surreal scene I just left, but satisfied that I was heard—for the most part, I think. And it’s not too late for me to meet up with Vadim and Roman, who should be at the Sunset Café by now.
***
When I approach their table ten minutes later, the conversation is in full swing, and the two brothers don’t even see me coming.
While the younger one is still wearing his politely distant, almost wary look, Vadim is speaking passionately, his hand running constantly through his hair.
I only catch the end of what he’s saying.
“…no memory? How they died? You have no idea what happened to them?”
“Hey, bro!” I greet him the way the local kids do, thinking I’m being amusingly ironic.
And missing the mark completely, given the look they both give me.
“Ah, Roman, you remember Alma, don’t you?” Vadim jumps in to help me out, a teasing smile on his lips.
“Yes, hi!” The younger of the two stands up and shakes my hand in a serious manner, as if he were fifty years old.
Hello again, culture shock…
“So, you were talking about the past, about your childhood? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Yes, Vadim was telling me a little bit… But I was only a year old. I don’t remember anything,” Roman explains apologetically. “To be honest, I don’t really feel like I had another life before I was adopted.”
“But there is so much you don’t know.”
Feeling Vadim tense up, I place a hand on his back, and he practically jumps at my touch.
He turns slowly toward me. “Alma, please, would you mind leaving us alone? I need to talk to him one-on-one. It’s important.”
Vadim fixes me with his piercing gaze, his eyes so intense they seem to turn dark gray.
When he gives me that look, I know it’s serious, that there’s no point arguing.
What I don’t know is what he could possibly have to tell his brother, why the secret surrounding his parents’ death still hurts so much, and finally, why he has suddenly decided to reveal it to this brother he barely knows when he has always refused to talk about it with me.
I leave the two Arcadis alone, hoping that Roman will know how to listen to his older brother, who needs this so much.
And hoping Vadim will finally open up to me during our trip to Santa Catalina.
By 6:40 p.m., both of my plans for the evening have officially fallen through. Kind of early for a Friday night that promised to be so busy. At least I’ll have plenty of time to pack my suitcase. And maybe bug Lily. Isn’t that what little sisters are for?