Authors: Melissa Delport
“What are the other reasons?”
“Oh,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s just a natural God-given talent.”
“I just love humility in a man,” I point out, laughing.
Breakfast is delicious; we finish every morsel and I dust the crumbs off the rumpled sheets. I sit, sipping my coffee, the sheet drawn up to cover my nakedness and regard him thoughtfully. I have never been so sexually attracted to anyone, even Kevin, but there is more to it. Adam is amazing; it feels like I have known him forever and yet I know nothing about him. I really want to get to know him better and I'm hoping he feels the same.
I move to put my mug on the bedside table and the sheet slips, exposing my bare breast. Adam’s gaze zeroes in on it and passion flares in his eyes. My body reacts automatically and I sigh, stretching my arms over my head and letting the covers fall to my waist. I meet his hungry gaze head-on and then I stretch lasciviously, arching my back and exposing my neck. Adam needs no further invitation and the tray clatters to the floor, forgotten.
Summer
“I like this one,” Adam announces proudly, pointing at a dark wood coffee table with an ethnic, tribal design. I frown, regarding the table with about as much excitement as I would a used teabag.
“What? It’s awesome!” he continues, looking perplexed. “Or not?”
“Not,” I smile, patting his shoulder.
“How about this one?” I indicate the table I have been examining; very shabby-chic, with a distressed white-wash and a glass top. “I love it!” I finish triumphantly and he rolls his eyes.
“Direct translation – we’re taking this one,” he laughs and I grin.
After a month of long-distance dating, Adam officially moved to Long Beach three months ago, in April, and although his work keeps him pretty busy, we spend almost every moment we can together. There has been the odd lunch date that he couldn’t make, but he is so sincerely apologetic afterwards that I forget my embarrassment at sitting alone in a crowded restaurant. Besides, I do understand that with the line of work he is in, problems arise at the last minute and he has to attend to them. We spend nearly every weekend scouring the antique stores and markets for furniture. He has pretty much let me decorate his entire apartment and I have loved every minute of it. We still spend more time at my place than we do at his, but he is happy with that. He claims he prefers it; that less is more and that the empty space gives an amazing perspective. I just laugh at his sarcasm, I have not done much more furnishing since I bought the place – I've been too busy living. I decided long ago that I would rather spend my money on life than on stuff. Adam loves this philosophy, but he also says that one of us, at least, should have furniture. And so we shop.
Adam and I have been inseparable since that first night. Our four months together feel like a lifetime, so deep is our emotional connection. I keep waiting for the punch-line; he is just too perfect, too amazing. After Kevin, I never thought I would ever find someone that I would come to care for even half as much, but Adam has stolen my heart. This is the happiest I have been in forever. July, the driest month of the year has never bothered me less. Where I usually yearn for the rain, I now have something far more valuable. I have Adam.
He pays for the table, plus delivery and then we head off to Starbucks to grab a coffee on the way home.
“You signed with your left hand today,” I mention, and Adam chuckles. He is always amused by my fascination with him being ambidextrous.
“Glad to see you were paying attention, Miss Petrova,” he says, smacking my butt. “But don’t be too harsh, my right hand was thoroughly overworked last night.” He winks.
“Shush!” I scold, casting a nervous glance around. “You forget, Mr
Parker, that I grew up in this town. What will people think?” I know as soon as the words have left my mouth that I shouldn’t have said them.
“They will think, Miss
Petrova,” he drawls slowly, “lucky, lucky Paige to be having fantastic sex with the hot, ambidextrous guy.”
We are going to see my dad this afternoon. Adam broached this subject early in our relationship. He had overheard me talking to Frank at the barbecue after all. He now comes with me most Sundays to see my dad and we play endless games of Scrabble and
Cluedo and very occasionally, chess or backgammon. Backgammon days do not usually bode well. When he was still in Bulgaria, my father played a lot of backgammon with his fiancée, and on backgammon days he is usually even more confused and out of sorts. Often, Adam will hold me late on a Sunday night while I cry for the man that I will never again have in my life. Adam’s own parents died when he was four years old. He grew up in an orphanage and has been fending for himself since he left at the age of 18, so I think he can relate.
The best thing about Adam is that he lets me be me and he loves me for it. I told him about Kevin and all he asked is that I speak about him whenever I think of him. He says that he never wants me to hold anything back, he wants to know how I'm feeling and for me to feel that I can tell him anything. He also embraces my way of life. He drinks only cheap red wine in honour of Kevin’s memory and once a month we do something crazy, or scary, or both. Last month we went scuba-diving with whale sharks in the Sea of Cortez. I kept telling myself that the gentle giants weren’t the people-eating variety. Adam screamed like a girl when one swam too close for comfort. Now, whenever there is a rainstorm, it is Adam who drags me outside.
The morning of our visit I head to the shops to pick up something for our dinner tonight. Adam is going for a run and meeting me back at my place before we go visit my dad. Laden with grocery bags, I prop them against the front door of my house as I rummage in my bag for my keys.
“Need some help with those?” Adam grins as he opens the door.
“Please!” I laugh and he takes the parcels from my hands. “I’m just going to have a quick shower, Babe!” I call as I head down the passage leaving him to unpack. He has obviously already showered, he is wearing jeans and a Polo jersey.
I turn on the shower jets, letting the water heat up and then I drop my clothes in the laundry basket and pad back down the passage to the linen closet. Opening the doors in search of a towel I blink in surprise. The usual chaos that is our linen is gone. All the towels have been perfectly folded and arranged according to
color. Running my eyes downward, the sheets, and all the bed linen, have also been meticulously reorganised. Shaking my head I walk naked down the passage back toward the kitchen, when I hear Adam on the phone. Maybe it’s the tone of his voice, or maybe it’s just a gut feeling, but I remain hidden around the corner, listening intently.
“Simon was here,” Adam whispers urgently, throwing a
punnet of mushrooms and a pack of lamb chops haphazardly into the ice box. “What did he say to you when he called?” he asks and there is a pause as he listens to the answer. “I know that!” he suddenly hisses, and my head jerks back in shock at the panic in his voice. “I will,” he continues more calmly, “just not now. No, I’ll call you.” he ends the call abruptly and I press my back against the cold wall of the passage, my mind racing, as the noise of his unpacking continues.
Creeping back down the passage I pull a fluffy cream towel from the linen cupboard and wrap it around my body.
“Babe, did you reorganise the cupboards?” I ask lightly as I saunter into the kitchen.
There is an infinitesimal pause and then he answers casually, “I did. I had some spare time and they were a shambles.”
“Who were you on the phone to?”
“What?”
“Just now, I thought I heard you on the phone?”
“Oh, yes, just some work stuff,” he brushes off the question. Taking in my immodest state of undress, he grins wickedly. “You look very appealing in that towel, Miss
Petrova.”
Ignoring the sudden rise in my blood pressure I force myself to sound normal.
“Don’t even think about it; we’ll be late. How was your run?” I add almost as an afterthought.
“It was good,” he turns back to the bags.
Back in the bathroom I open the laundry basket again, pulling out my discarded clothes and confirming my suspicions. There is nothing else in there; no track pants, no socks, no sweat shirt, and when I check his shoe cupboard, his running shoes are right at the back of the very organised, perfect rows of shoes.
Leaving the house a few minutes later, pushing the strange phone call from my mind, Adam kisses my forehead and hands me the keys. He hates driving; he always insists that I drive everywhere, not that I mind, I love my little Chevy. The drive to the Care Facility gives me time to think. What am I worrying about? Adam didn’t go for a run; big deal. So he spent the afternoon cleaning out closets, most women would love that. And as for the phone call, Adam deals with crises at work all the time, why am I getting stressed out about a simple conversation? Adam’s hand resting on my leg is warm and real and he makes me feel more beautiful and more loved than I have ever felt before. Exhaling a deep breath I silently berate myself for my silliness and focus on the road.
When we arrive at Fairview my father is staring out at the garden, seemingly deep in thought.
“Mr
Petrova?” I place my hand gently on his shoulder and he looks up at me, tears shining in his brown eyes. I am so concerned that, temporarily forgetting myself I ask anxiously, “Dad, what’s the matter?”
“Paige?” he asks tentatively, his voice breaking and I reel in shock.
“Yes, Daddy, it’s me.” I can’t believe it. It has been so long since he has had a lucid day that I thought there were none left to be had. I quickly introduce Adam.
“Daddy, this is my boyfriend, Adam.” My dad looks up at Adam and then offers his hand.
“Nice to meet you, son,” he says before his gaze returns to me.
I sit next to him and his strong, wrinkled hand clasps my cheek.
“Oh Paigey, I’m so sorry I left you.” A tear tracks its way down his cheek and I smile through my own.
“
It’s okay, Daddy. It’s fine, really. I’m happy,” I glance back at Adam. “I’m so, so happy.”
“Good, that’s good,” my dad nods at Adam in acknowledgement and thanks.
“How’s your mom?” he asks and I smile.
“She’s fine, Dad. She married Frank, remember?” I cringe inwardly at the sensitive subject.
“How can I forget?” He shakes his head, “Patronising old bastard stole my wife.”
“He’s not so bad, Dad,” I laugh. I rest my head on his shoulder and we sit peacefully like that for a few minutes.
“I’m scared, Paigey,” he admits, his voice so low that only Adam and myself can hear it. I feel Adam squeezing my shoulder, offering his strength and support as my dad continues. “It’s like I’ve lost myself, like I don’t really exist anymore.” He tries and fails to choke back a sob and I let my own tears fall, feeling more helpless than I ever have in my life.
“Where’s Kevin?” he asks suddenly and I press my lips together as hard as I can, trying not to give in to the emotional breakdown that is threatening to consume me.
“He died, Dad. He was killed in a robbery. You didn’t know,” I reassure him, when he looks bewildered.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” He strokes my cheek and we both lean against one another, taking solace in just being together.
It is ages before either of us speaks and then my father sits up abruptly.
“Excuse me, Miss, I must have fallen asleep,” he apologises, looking shamefaced and straightening his jacket.
“That’s all right; I came here to see you, actually,” I answer, wiping away the last of my tears.
“Me?” He glances around as though I might be referring to someone else.
“Yes, I think so. Someone told me you like to play Scrabble?” I ask, exaggeratedly. He beams, looking smug.
“Well actually, I am rather good at it,” he boasts, and I smile sadly.
That night I cry harder than any other and Adam holds me, rubbing my back, smoothing away my tears and letting me wipe my nose on his T-shirt. When I am finally done and my shuddering has subsided, Adam gently pushes my hair out of my face.
“I love you.” He says the words so simply and so sincerely, that it takes me a moment to register what he has said. I press my lips together and then give a watery smile.
“I love you too,” I reply. And it’s true, I do love him. I have loved him, I think, since the first time I saw him. He is the most amazing man I have ever met and the only man since Kevin who has captured my heart. If the truth be told, I think that, given the choice between the two, I would always choose Adam and this makes me both incredibly happy and incredibly sad at the same time.
Adam takes both my hands in his and leans forward, demanding my undivided attention.
“Paige,” he begins, and then stops suddenly, collecting his thoughts. He takes a deep breath and then continues quickly. “I know we’ve only known each other for four months and I know that you probably think it’s too soon, but I am just so in love with you,” tears spring to his eyes. “I can’t imagine being without you for one second. Life is so short. I really don’t see the point in waiting,” he takes another deep breath and then, “I want to marry you, Paige Petrova; more than anything else in the world.”
A while later Adam goes to the kitchen to fetch me some water. He is gone for some time and I am almost asleep again, when I hear a low voice and I jerk awake, listening intently. Is Adam on the phone? I throw off the covers and then slowly ease myself out of bed. I am almost certain I can hear someone talking. I quickly shove my feet into my slippers and pad out of my room. There is silence in the apartment. A quick glance around the kitchen reveals nothing. I turn to head back to the bedroom and I scream, quickly clamping my hand over my mouth. Adam grabs me, pulling me close.
“Jeez, Paige! What’s wrong?”
“You scared the shit out of me!” I curse, slapping his bare chest and feeling foolish for being scared almost to death by my own boyfriend. Fiancé actually, I think, a small smile lifting the corners of my mouth. I slip my arms up and around his neck and pull his head down, kissing him lingeringly on the mouth.
“What’s that for?” he grins wickedly against my lips.