Amaranth (6 page)

“Flashy, but that’s not a bad thing,” I said with a shrug.

“What did you picture me driving?”

The passenger door swung open, and out stepped another tall,
dark and handsome type. Except this guy had dark-black hair with piercing blue
eyes that nearly blinded me. I stifled a laugh, knowing Audrey would probably
leave me the hell alone for the rest of the evening.

Gavin turned to the guy. “What do
you
think, Gabe? Do you think a
Maserati’s
too flashy for
me?”

“I don’t know man, I think it suits you,” Gabe replied,
coming to join us.

“I was
gonna
say an old Mustang or
something,” I chimed in.

“Yeah, I can see that, too,” Gabe said. “But he does have a
thing for luxury cars. Big spender over here.” Gabe had a kind face: mature,
yet boy-like. And he seemed really close with Gavin, like a brother.

Gabe bumped Gavin’s shoulder, hinting at him to introduce
us. “Ah, sorry. Camille,” he said, and introduced Gabe to me. Then he moved
forward to shake Audrey’s hand. “And you must be Audrey, right?”

“Yup, nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand.

“Hope you don’t mind he’s tagging along tonight,” Gavin
said, and moved to stand next to me.

She quietly chuckled, a dark laugh I think she intended only
me to hear. Gavin heard and glanced over at me, amused.

Gabe and Audrey began chatting. Gavin and I exchanged
pleased looks and stepped away to give them privacy. He said, “You look ...”

“Underdressed?” I glanced again at his flashy car.

“Ha. No. I was going to say you look amazing.” He pointed
toward my long-sleeved corset top. “Black looks great on you, I notice you wear
a lot of it.”

“What do
you
know?” I joked.
“You’ve only seen me what, twice?” I nodded at his shirt. “You’re one to talk.
Black is all I’ve seen you wear, too.”

“I suppose you have a point.” He tugged at his shirt,
grinning. “It’s
all
I wear. I don’t feel
comfortable wearing any other color.”

I looked up, my eyes meeting his in understanding. “Me too.
Everything else is too colorful. I like to blend in, not stand out.”

“Wow. We really
are
introverts.”

“That we are,” I agreed laughing, pulling at my sleeve. “But
hey, I do have another reason. Johnny Cash. ‘Man in Black.’ It resonates with
me. I feel convicted to wear it.” Embarrassed by my confession, I chuckled,
playing with my sleeve as I spoke.

“That’s a great song. So, you’re an introvert with a
conviction
.”

He looked at me with the same intrigue that crossed his face
that day in Paris. It made me uncomfortable, yet I didn’t want him to look
away. I pried my eyes from his, feeling that annoying pink hue begin to spread
across my face again. “I know, I’m a dork. Just deal with it.”

“You’re far from that, believe me.” He pulled his eyes from
my face. “That’s a very respectable conviction, you know--”

“Okay guys, are we
gonna
head out?
We’re starving.” Gabe and Audrey had returned from their little world. I was
shocked to notice they were already hand-in-hand. That was quick. And strange.

“Uh, yeah let’s go,” I replied, giving Audrey a hard stare.
She didn’t notice. She was too busy smiling at Gabe. It was nauseating.
Already. “Where are we going exactly, by the way?”

“Well,” Gavin said. “We’re taking you to this place in
Breaux Bridge. Cafe Des Amis. They have Cajun
zydeco
music. We hope you ladies like to dance, because--”

Audrey exploded with laughter, immediately clapping her hand
over her mouth. Gavin shifted his eyes between Audrey and me, confused.

A penitent smile on her face, Audrey said, “It’s just that
... Camille doesn’t exactly
dance
. It’s not her
thing.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine, really,” I said. “I can still hang out
while you guys dance. Come on, let’s go.” I darted for the car, shooting her a
warning look.

Not wanting to spoil the fun, after dinner, I let Gavin hurl
me all over the dance floor. Every few minutes he would dip me and fling me
into a stranger, although the flinging wasn’t his fault. He was actually quite
coordinated, his rhythm impressive. I was the one who couldn’t keep up,
unexpectedly launching myself into people as we moved. I watched Audrey and
Gabe easily keep up with the fast Cajun beats. Their dance moves were just
about as nauseating as their instant chemistry, though I couldn’t help but
smile at their instant
coupledom
. The entire night
felt safe. Lighter. So far, the new spell was working just fine.

I was having a great time too, but getting tired. Gavin
caught my exhausted expression as another song ended and said, “Want to take a
break? How about a walk?” I nodded, and watched him share a cautious look with
Gabe before he led me out the door to the street.

“Everything okay?” I asked, puzzled by the exchange. We
began to meander down the street.

“Oh ... yeah, everything’s fine. Gabe and I just watch out
for each other. This guy inside has kind of been eyeing you all night, and he
was helping me keep an eye on him, that’s all.”

“Well that’s creepy. But ... thanks.” I shivered. The
familiar paranoia rushed over me, and like the gods suddenly sensed my fear, my
cell phone rang. Saying, “Excuse me,” I stepped away from Gavin, but headed
toward the end of the sidewalk when I saw the name on the caller ID. I
hesitated, then silenced the ringer to ignore it. I was not about to let
him
ruin the night.

“Everything okay?” Gavin appeared from behind me, looking
concerned in the streetlight. He glanced around at the empty sidewalk, as
though looking for someone.

“Yeah,” I stammered, shoved the phone in my pocket. “My mom.
I always get upset when she calls.” I tried to focus, gestured toward the
sidewalk. “How about that walk?”

“Sure.” He took my hand in his, rubbed the side of my arm.
“You sure you’re all right, though? We can head home if you want. . . .” He
pointed to the parked
Maserati
.

“I appreciate it, but no,” I sent him a faint smile. “It’ll
do me good to stay out. And I’m fine, really.” I resumed my stroll, waited for
him. I rubbed my forearms and released my hands back to my sides, determined to
get Andrew off my mind. “So ... where were we? Ah, yes. You never really told
me where you live outside of Lafayette.”

“Oh, right.” He took a deep breath and followed my lead.
“Well, I was born here. I live in New Iberia, in my grandfather’s old house. I
sort of inherited it. I’ve traveled a lot, moved around a bit. I’ve always come
back home, though.”

“You inherited a house? Really? You live there all by
yourself?”

“Yeah. It’s a lot more space than I need, but I’d never sell
the house. It’s part of me.” He’d placed his hand on the small of my back as we
walked, leading me across another street. The smallest of gestures, but so much
like our brief time in Paris, as if we’d been together for years. And my lungs
forgot how to function.

I took a step back up onto the curb, forced a breath, said,
“I can understand that. It’s a little different for me, I guess. I’ve only been
here a little over a year. I left Seattle after I met you,” I smiled at him,
“just as you suggested. But I came here instead of Paris. Moved out here and
bought a house. My grandmother helped. Turned out, she’d been saving money for
me for years.”

He nodded. “Family here?”

My mother flashed in my mind, her in her wheelchair in front
of Oak Alley Plantation.
This is where I wish I’d
stayed, Camille,
she’d said that day.

“No, no family,” I said. “I came to visit New Orleans once,
back in high school. With my mom. She loves the South. So do I. Her whole
family’s from here.” My heart grew heavy as I spoke, hoping that was enough of
an answer.

“Wow, so did you move out here all by yourself? Or did your
parents move back too? Your grandma?”

“By myself. Mom’s still in Seattle, but she and my dad
aren’t together anymore.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” He replied sincerely, his face
thoughtful in the streetlight.

We stopped to sit on the sidewalk in front of an antique
shop. He held my arm to keep me stable while I lowered my body to sit on the
concrete. A dark blue truck drove by, and my heartbeat ratcheted up. I followed
it with my eyes, scanning the driver’s seat for a face.

“Your mom didn’t want to move back after her and your dad
split up?” Gavin’s voice broke through my distraction.

“No. She’s not well. And now that she’s been in Seattle for
years, she’s comfortable there. She didn’t want to make a big move at this
point in her life.”

“Your dad? Still in Seattle, I presume.”

I pulled in a breath and pushed my hands over my hair,
smoothing some strands that had loosened while we were dancing, pondering how
much to delve into my complicated baggage on the first date.

“Yeah, still there,” I exhaled. “He thought I was crazy for
coming out here, but I love it. And Louisiana’s new
enough
.
It’s easy, because no one really knows me. I was never close to any of Mom’s
family. Come to think of it, I doubt they even know I live here now.”

Gavin folded his arms, letting them rest on his knees. “It’s
no Seattle.”

“Exactly.”

“I see. What about your grandma. The one who helped you buy
the house. Your mom’s mom? She still live out here?”

I shifted my weight on the hard ground, thinking of how to
politely change the subject.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You don’t have to talk about your
family anymore if you don’t want.” He leaned his head on his hand, shifted his
eyes downward again. “I just want to know you.”

He straightened his back and watched a young couple
jabbering away, walking from one of the shops across the street to their car. I
ran my hand over my still-tender forearm, staring at it, wondering when to tell
Gavin what was going on with that.

He reached up, pulled a few strands of my hair away from my
face, tucked it behind my ear. “So, my introverted Seattleite, tell me
something else I don’t know. Like why you work in a bookstore. Just a job?”

“Pretty much.” I grinned at his touch. “Working around books
is a sort of heaven for me. I want to write. Which I don’t think I’ve ever told
to anyone before. Not even Audrey.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell someone that?”

“I’m not sure. It’s a dream that’s
mine
,
I guess. No one can take it from me if I keep it tucked away.” I peered into
his dark eyes, reached out to touch his face for the first time, to feel the
porcelain skin that had so easily hypnotized me the first time I met him in
Paris. Such a bold move for me, yet I became bolder still, placing my palm on
the side of his face, holding it in place so he couldn’t look away. “And who
are you, my Louisiana native?” I rubbed my thumb across his cheek. “You haven’t
told me a thing about yourself, other than you live in New Iberia.”

He leaned his face into my palm, staring back at me. There
went his eyes again, trying to communicate something, only his mouth wouldn’t
let him and I couldn’t break through to find what was behind them. “I’m not
that interesting,” he said. “I’m more interested in you.”

“And I just want to know you.” Grinning, I shrugged.

Chuckling at his words backfiring on him, he straightened up
again and tilted his head back to look up at the dark sky. He moved his hands
to the sidewalk, leaned his weight on it. “Let’s see. I love art, I’m a
Hitchcock film geek, and I play piano. But most important, you,” he took my
hand in his, “are by far the most beautiful person I have ever encountered in
all of my existence. And that’s about all there is to know.”

“Well, thank you,” I said, taken by his compliment. “But,
that’s not
all
there is to know.” He didn’t
volunteer anything else so I continued. “What do you do for work? Do you go to
school? Give me
something
.”

He rolled his eyes at me and looked out past the street,
shaking his head. “Unlike you, I have virtually no bills. Because of my
inheritance. So I take jobs here and there wherever I travel, and then I give the
money away.” He shrugged. “My calling, helping people. It makes me happy.” He
interlocked his fingers with mine, squeezed. “Is that sufficient detail for
you?”

I crossed my legs Indian style, ready to fire more
questions, but he swiveled his entire body toward me, taking my wrists in his
hands. The moonlight highlighted the little scar above his eyebrow, and once
again, I felt I
must
have known him in a past
life. It was the only thing that explained why he felt so familiar to me.

“Before you ask anything else,” he ran his fingers through
his hair, cleared his throat, “I have to say something, or I might never get
the guts to say it again.”

“Okay, just say it.” I turned toward him, too.

“A little warning. This is going to come off strong for a
first date.” He chuckled, adjusted his shirt collar. Unnerved by the urgency in
his voice, I nodded to encourage him. I sensed what this was like for him, the
fear that opening up to me, someone he barely knew, would give me power over
him. I also knew that every once in a while, that was so undeniably worth the
risk. Maybe his confession, whatever it was, would make me feel better about
breaking the news to him about Andrew.

“I’m completely crazy about you, Camille.” He moved in
closer, his eyes assessed my reaction. “I know there are details you didn’t
want to mention before ... things about the guy you left back in Seattle, and
your mom. But I want you to know whatever it is you’re still running from, you
don’t have to run from it anymore. You can talk to me. And I would never, ever,
hurt you.”