Chapter Forty-Eight
I called in late to work the next morning and grabbed breakfast with Tess while we waited for Max to make the drive out to pick her up after doing morning drop-off with the kids.
She was jumpy and nervous all morning, which was so unlike her. The woman set the tone of every room she walked into. In college, professors were intimidated by her.
I prodded a bit and she swore she was fine. But I could see her trying to calculate how badly she’d fucked up and what her liability was.
On our way back to Starlight Palms, we picked up Marlon. Max arrived less than thirty minutes later, and he and Tess shared a long, intense embrace in my living room while Marlon circled their feet.
I scooped him up and stepped into my room to give them a little privacy. Through the wall, I heard hushed whispers, quiet soothing, and fierce promises.
Tess called for me and I said goodbye, holding her for a long moment while Max scooped up her purse and gave Marlon a pat on the head.
When I opened the door for them both, Max, who looked like he hadn’t slept in thirty-six hours, gripped my forearm before pulling me in for a solid hug. “Thanks, V,” he said softly.
I watched as he opened her door for her and they fell back into their respective complementary roles with ease.
Once they’d left, I headed into the main building, where I found a full inbox and a small potted cactus with a thank-you card from Leonard.
This cactus will likely outlive me, but only one of us had a truly fabulous funeral and lived to tell the tale. Thanks for the push. —L
I spent the rest of the morning in my office hashing out the calendar for the rest of the year, including speed dating, the weekly movie nights, and early voting shuttles. Above all, I tried my very best not to be distracted by the man one floor above me.
Before lunch, I heard Ruby’s voice in the hallway, and I sat there for far too long, waiting for her to walk past my office and at least acknowledge me in some sort of way. But her voice faded, and I was left waiting.
* * *
That afternoon I prepped the theater for the weekly documentary club. I rolled the popcorn machine in and laid out snacks and beverages for a free all-you-can-eat concessions stand.
As I lined up the boxes of Dots in a row, the door at the back of the theater swung open and shut, followed by the click of a lock.
“I’m pretty sure most of that food is not denture-friendly,” Eli said.
A little burst of excitement sparked in me at the sound of his voice. “Anything is denture safe if you just believe in yourself,” I called over my shoulder.
He let out a short laugh and the heat of his body closed in at my back. I turned to face him, and he was near enough for our chests to brush on each exhale.
We hadn’t seen each other yet this morning, so now was my first chance to appreciate his dark green chinos, white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of camel oxfords. His hair was pushed back except for a rebel strand that curled over his forehead.
“I missed you,” he said.
“We saw each other last night,” I reminded him, even though I’d missed him too.
The scruff on his chin tickled my neck as he leaned in closer, placing his hands on the table, bracketing in my hips. “You think I could cash in that rain check tonight?”
“I’ll have to check the terms and conditions and confirm that tonight isn’t a blackout date.”
He chuckled and took my hand, pulling me toward the row of seats directly in the middle of the room.
The Starlight Palms movie room rivaled most local theaters except that it was smaller and completely handicap accessible.
To the delight of many residents, the decor honored the mid-century modern aesthetic carried through the rest of the property in the teal theater seats and deep orange drapes along the walls.
The curtains framing the screen were magenta with gold tassels and starbursts embroidered into the fabric.
It was probably one of my favorite places on the whole property.
Eli led me to the center of the row and immediately pulled up the armrest between us. The Universal opening logo glowed from the screen, where I’d paused the movie until the residents arrived.
“I’ve never actually made out with someone in a movie theater before,” I told him as I closed the distance between us and let my fingers trace up his biceps.
“I would really love to help you check that off your list, but can we talk first?”
My head dropped back against the headrest. “Am I in trouble?”
“No.” He laughed. “Why would you think that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Hearing someone needs to talk to you is like getting sent to the principal’s office, even when it’s not for a bad thing. Or when someone texts and asks if you have time to talk, but then they disappear on you for hours.”
He traced a finger over the planes of my face. “You are not in trouble, Vera Stein.”
I swallowed, my mouth dry despite his assurances.
“I stopped by my house yesterday to check on Brigid.”
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“Oh, she’s fine. I think she’s in love with both her best friend and her best friend’s boyfriend, but that’s a story for another day.”
I nodded slowly. “That sounds like a great bedtime story.”
His finger brushed over the tip of my nose. “Noted.”
“Okay, so your house. Brigid.”
“Right, well, Selene found a new place, which means I’ll be getting my house back . . . soon.”
My stomach did a little flip-flop. “That’s great.” But it came out a little half-hearted. “You must be really excited to get your place back.”
He nodded as he studied our joined hands, his thumb running over my knuckles and then his fingers spinning the gold band.
I’d moved it back to my right hand after the wedding, but I’d noticed him glancing at it a few times since we’d been home, like he found its presence amusing or reassuring, even.
“You can have the apartment, of course,” he said. “I don’t want you to worry about that. There’s a waitlist for apartments, but I’ll keep it in my name so you don’t have to deal with any of that.”
“Oh. Okay.” A sudden and deep disappointment began to burrow in my chest, but I didn’t know what else I expected from him.
In fact, he was going above and beyond by securing a place for me to live.
Whatever this was between us hadn’t even taken shape into something that could be properly labeled.
“That’s really thoughtful of you. I’ll obviously pay the rent in full. ”
His eyes found mine, and I was struck by how beautiful he was in the bluish wash from the movie screen: his dark blond hair, manicured beard, the green of his eyes reflecting in the light.
This felt like the beginning of the end somehow. The end of something very short-lived. I hadn’t yet found a reason to regret anything that had happened other than the thought of it being over simply making me sad.
“Or,” he continued, breaking my circuitous thoughts of doom, “you could make the move with me.”
It took a moment for his words to formulate into meaning. But when it finally did hit me, my heart sped up as I searched for the proper reaction.
His mouth was moving before I could formulate a response.
“Y-you could still have your own room. Nothing has to be much different than it is now. This invitation is not dependent on us being romantically involved.” His head bobbed to the side, so that I had no choice but to look him in the eyes. “I need you to know that.”
I nodded. “Okay.” I didn’t have any other words to say just then. He’d taken me by such surprise.
“But if it did turn into more . . . over time, maybe that could be okay too. I just like spending time with you, Vera. I like knowing you’ll be home.
At my home. I like watching movies with you even though you have to read multiple detailed reviews before you’ll commit to something you haven’t seen. ”
“It’s due diligence,” I mumbled.
The corner of his mouth lifted as he brushed his knuckles across the swell of my cheek. “And even though you whisper the subtitles to yourself.”
I shrunk down a little, my shoulders level with my ears. I forgot that I did that, honestly. “It helps me follow along.”
I noticed the contrast in our hands. My fingers were short with chipped nail polish from my pre–New Orleans manicure with Ruby. His palms were broad with long, delicate yet strong fingers. I liked the way my hand disappeared inside of his.
“It’s something to consider. That’s all.
Take as much time as you need.” He used the same calm, almost clinical voice I’d heard him use with residents when they stopped him in the hall to ask about a rash or an unusual dream they’d had.
It wasn’t a patronizing tone. No, it was a tone I took comfort in now.
A tone that said someone had answers and, for once, it didn’t have to be me.
It was the same feeling I got when I took my mom to the ER toward the end.
For so long I had hated that place, but at the end, they would take her back and for a little while I could at least find comfort in the fact that she was looked after and I could just take a moment to breathe.
I nodded and tilted my head up.
He swiped a thumb across my jaw and dipped his tongue out to wet his lower lip.
I felt the pull between us, my body so ready to lose itself in him. To make out in this room on our lunch hour like a couple of teenagers.
Just as I was about to give in to his touch, I remembered the thing that had been on the tip of my tongue since last night.
“The candle,” I finally said.
He pulled away slightly, blush coloring his cheeks. “That.”
“Tess seems to think there’s a story there.”
“Tess shouldn’t start rumors,” he said. “Especially ones that are true.”
My mouth spread into a slow grin. “Okay, now you have to tell me.”
“Back in college, I may have observed that you were a fan of cucumber melon body spray.” He laughed softly. “It reminded me of the mall, honestly.”
“Well, that is where I bought it.”
“Fair.” He nodded. “But after a while, the smell reminded me of you. The mall reminded me of you. Brody would come home from hanging out with you and the faintest trace of it would linger on his T-shirts.”
My finger traced the shell of his ear as his gaze drifted between me and a faraway past.
“Mind you, this was at a time when I couldn’t decide if I was fascinated by you or wanted to put my head through a wall every time you spoke. So it was a little frustrating to be . . . assaulted by this scent at random.”
“‘Assaulted,’ you say? What a strong word.”
He rolled his eyes. “Is this my story or not?”
I nudged his shoulder with the side of my head. “Go on, go on.”
“Well, you know everything that happened between us, so by the time I started med school, the scent was cursed. It took a few years, but eventually I noticed that I didn’t smell it as often as I used to.
Either because of changing trends or time.
I don’t know. Then two years ago, I was in Bath & Body Works with Brigid on Christmas Eve getting her mom something for Christmas.
” His eyes dropped down to his lap. “And I recognized that smell.”
“Two years?” I asked. “That candle’s lasted you a good long while.”
“Well, I bought the candle. Telling myself it was just a curious nostalgia. But then I burned through it and went online and ordered a little supply of them.”
“Oh.” Now it was my turn to blush.
“And if you’re wondering why I’ve kept it in my bathroom . . . the reason is as depraved as you think.”
I gasped softly, feeling inappropriately turned on in the middle of the work day. “That is . . . incredibly hot.”
“You mean incredibly stalkerish?” he asked.
I weighed that thought, my head tilting back and forth. “Stalker lite,” I confirmed. “But in a hot-Lifetime-movie sort of way. Like stalker role-play.”
He tucked a curl behind my ear, his forehead tilting down to rest against mine. “Now, about making out in movie theaters . . .”
* * *
Eli didn’t bring up the move for the next two weeks and we fell into a comfortable rhythm. I’d text him a recipe in the morning. He’d pick up the ingredients. We’d make dinner together. Usually, at least. Sometimes I’d get a little lost in the writing I was dabbling with.
Okay, well, I was more than dabbling. But for the sake of my sanity, I called it dabbling.
On those nights, Eli would silently take over dinner duties and I would hardly notice until there was a warm plate of food set in front of me. Sometimes we would talk through dinner and other times he would read while I continued to work.
He made noises about letting me borrow his laptop, but I liked the routine of working on paper and then transcribing in the morning when I got to my office.
Then we would go to bed, both brushing our teeth at the same time. Every night I went through the motions of intending to go to my own bedroom, but he always waited in his doorway for me and dragged me by the waist to his bed.
(Marlon caught on rather quickly and had taken to automatically nesting at the foot of Eli’s bed after the first two nights.)
Some days Brody texted me, asking me to talk. I was surprisingly delighted by how simple it was to just delete those messages and move on. It felt good. I felt more whole than I had in a long time.
Every morning I woke up wrapped in firm arms, and now I didn’t want to wake up any other way.
Eli Buckley was absolutely ruining me, and I started to think that I might be okay if he would just continue to ruin me forever.
INT. PHOTO BOOTH—DAY
She kisses him on the third flash. He blinks and pulls away.
POPPY
(gasps)
I’m sorry!
She runs out of the photo booth, leaving him alone for the last picture.
POPPY (V.O.)
The danger of Arlo was that I would always love him more than he could ever love me.