Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series (20 page)

“I scared you, didn’t I?”

He shook his head, “No, Gracie, I’m scaring
myself.” His palms caressed my cheek, pushing my hair back. He
looked deep into my eyes and I couldn’t tell what emotion I was
seeing in his. “You’ve opened this door and I can’t shut it. I
don’t know what the hell I’m doing half the time I’m with you. I’ve
never told a soul the thing I’ve just told you. You make me say and
do things I never would, normally.” He marveled, holding my face
between his hands, “You’re so unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”

His voice, the look in his eyes, they beamed
passion and confusion. His hands held my head as I lunged headlong
into a deep kiss. Feeling his lips on mine was the world’s greatest
gift. He wrapped his arms around me and laid back, holding me to
him. The brilliant burning ignited again, all over my body. I
scrambled to one side, tucking myself beside him.

“Food’s cold,” he grinned against my
lips.

We sat up and started on our bagels as if
nothing had happened.

When we finished, I cleared the food away,
placing the bag on the nightstand. “Tell me about yourself, Evan. I
want to know everything.”

He sighed and signaled for me to join him in
a snuggle against the headboard. I took my spot alongside him and
he wrapped his arms around me.

“It’s kind of a boring story.”

“Don’t stop until you get to the part when
you saw me at the bar. I want every detail.”

He’d once told me he wanted me to know
everything about him but, up until then, he’d been reluctant to
say. Even as he sat beside me, possibly willing but still brooding,
I figured I should give him a place to start.

“Did you always know you were adopted?”

He sighed. “No, and I can’t be sure why my
mother never told me, but I like to think she intended to at some
point.” He tilted his head back, looking up at the ornately tiled
ceiling.

“Her name was Sylvia Matthews. She was Swiss
and Italian, born and raised in London, and I look nothing like
her. She met and married my delinquent father, Harold, when she was
very young. When they couldn’t have children on their own, they
adopted me. The exact way, I’m not sure. They weren’t what anyone
might consider well-off, so I suspect they knew my biological
mother.”

His eyes held a faraway look as he went on,
telling me how he wished his adoptive mother were able to see how
her sacrifices had paid off. How he wanted to buy her a house and
take care of her but the cancer . . .

“She went quickly after diagnosis. Almost as
if the word was what made her ill. And I had no other family.” He
was going to be placed in a youth hostel.

“Being sent away alone frightened me more
than anything. I was still a child, though I looked and felt man
enough to care for myself. But what could I do without my
mother?”

Tears pooled in my eyes, distorting his
handsome face. I wanted to squeeze him tight enough to make the
hurt go away.

He and his very best friend, Marcus, had a
plan. They sold his mother’s Beatles memorabilia to afford the
plane tickets to Los Angeles. Not long after they’d arrived, he met
Sheri, a waitress who was working her way through business school
at the time. She felt sorry for them and took them into her studio
apartment. When Evan actually started getting work, he felt
obligated to repay her kindness. Sheri had been with him ever
since.

“I think of Noah doing something like that
and cringe. No wonder Marcus’ parents still hate me.” His brow
furrowed as if the thought had just occurred to him.

I sat up to look in his face, remembering
that day at the museum. He looked so uncomfortable with the
attention. “Why acting?” I could see him with my waking eyes as he
cowered away from the attention.

“Filming is everything. Something worth
doing. I’m one small cog in a giant machine. My parts are no more
important than anyone else’s, but not every contribution is so
easily observed.”

No door was ever opened for Evan. He opened
them all by himself.

“
I have to ask you something and I’d
like an honest answer.” My serious tone caught his attention and he
sat up.

“What is it?”

“What in the world possessed you to steal my
barstool?”

His hearty laugh filled the room.

“Seriously, what were you thinking? I felt
bad!”

“Actually, I was thinking, ‘I want
that.’”

“So I
did
look like a slut.”
I
knew it!

He laughed louder, “No! If you had, there
would’ve been no question. I would’ve walked up and told you what I
wanted. Instead I was this muted stalker, standing behind you,
smelling your hair . . . Creeping into your seat when you weren’t
looking.” He laughed again, “When you sat on my lap, I’d just
finished wishing for it.”

“Why didn’t you stay and talk to me?”

He shrugged. “Cold feet.”

I giggled at the expression and recalled one
other question that had been weighing on my mind since the first
day we met. “What brought you to the elevator that morning?”

“Eh, it doesn’t really matter.” The
non-committal sparked my curiosity. Evan was never ambiguous.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No, it just isn’t important.”

“Tell me; I’m curious.”

“You’ll be disappointed,” he assured, then
shook his head. “I was in the building because Sheri sent me to a
therapist.”

“Really?” Doctor Lena had another office in
the same building as Doctor Pataki, Lily’s boss.

“Who?” I asked, burning with curiosity.

“You’re favorite Head Shrinker. Ten minutes
in, I left.”

“Dr. Lena? Why would you—”

“Because I don’t need guidance. I was just
coming off the thing with Gretchen and had too much time on my
hands. I wanted someone to listen, but she wanted me to get
introspective and I’m not into that.”

“Yeah, she does encourage me to think about
why I do what I do.”

“I don’t need to question why I hate the
circus-freak attention that surrounds me. It’s bad enough I have to
hear about it from Sheri. I figure, the more attention I lend it,
the more sway it holds over me and,” he shifted his weight,
suddenly pressing it on top of me. Every cell in my body suddenly
expanded with heat. His grip around me tightened. “I like being the
one on top.”

“I bet you do.” I chuckled, feeling warmth
flood my face.

“You know what she did?” His eyes grew
incredulous as he righted himself. “She laid out piles of gossip
rags in the waiting area—”

“Those are always there,” I interrupted.

He smirked, not missing a beat. “She asked
me to look them over and tell her about it. Seriously?” He asked
rhetorically. “When everything in my life is ass-backwards—where
the most menial act becomes the most significant to a public that
doesn’t give a shit about me? Talk about the attention that can
make me afraid to move if I’m not careful? Explain that within five
minutes of our first meeting? Not going to happen.”

He straightened his shirt. “I fight it
every day. The excessive admiration. The ridiculous stalking. It
can make me believe I’m worth all the attention.” His voice changed
as he did an impression of himself: “Maybe I am the third most
influential person in the world, two spots ahead of the President
of the U.S. Maybe I am the sexiest guy in the world, this year.”
His tone was an obvious mock. “It’s bizarre and pompous, and I hate
it. Yet, I’m susceptible to it. Offer me one
inch
of pretension and I’ll grab hold with both
hands.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “I must
constantly remind myself that it isn’t real. This business of
entertainment is a propaganda machine, full of half-truths at best
and the rest is all rubbish, anyway. Success boils down to asses in
seats. Everything else that comes with it, I have to ignore.”

His lovely face was filled with indignation.
“And if that doctor doesn’t get that already, then I won’t be the
one to waste my time explaining it to her.”

“Let me see if I understand this—you didn’t
like her?”

His frustration faded into a laugh as he
threw a pillow in my face. I giggled and tossed it back. He caught
it and smiled. “That’s one of the many reasons I love being with
you. You don’t care about any of that. I want to sit with you under
your rock as long as I can.”

October
27
^th

I was on a roll; eagerly charging into my
future. Anxious for serious change. That meant getting rid of old
stuff. Actually, I was taking the older, but still good furniture
from the family room and swapping it out for the nice, lesser used
furnishings in the formal living room. And then I was going to buy
a new set of couches and end tables for the front of the house.

It seemed as good a day as any to start
over. Besides, the Women and Children’s Shelter downtown was in
dire need of furnishings.

Caleb ran out the front door. I leapt from
the back of the donation truck in time to catch hold of his
shirt.

“Gramma!” He pointed at the street.

At the end of the driveway, Maria was
parking what I guessed was a borrowed pick-up. The chosen
spot—directly in front of the donation truck—indicated she had no
intention of staying. That was good news. I had hoped she’d send
someone else to pick up the chair. I was in far too good a mood to
fight with her.

“Good morning, Maria,” I called, as she
walked slowly up the drive with a subtle limp. “Are you
alright?”

“I’m old.”

Stalking towards me, her arms opened wide.
As her hands fell outside my peripheral vision, nerves welled in my
stomach. I shifted to follow, wondering what might have set her off
this time. But her hands weren’t closed like I assumed. They were
softly open. To my utter amazement, both of them were moving
hesitantly, almost kindly, towards me. My posture remained
unyielding as she drew close and hugged me for the first time in .
. . For the very first time.

At her best, Maria had only ever been
politely indifferent. At worst, well, there was a reason I wanted
to keep an eye on her hands. I managed to return the unexpected
affection with an awkward pat of her shoulder.

Caleb grinned as Maria greeted him, patting
his back and head. “Why don’t you get your Abuelita some of the tea
she likes?”

“The diet ones, right Gramma?” He asked,
making sure she knew that he remembered she was diabetic.

She smiles down at him and nodded. He
skipped merrily into the house as she continued talking, curiously
kind. “You look good. Lily tells me you are seeing someone?”

“He’s inside.” I left out the fact that he
was sleeping off another loss. He really stunk at quarters.

“That’s nice for you, then.” Her accent was
still prominent after all these years, probably because she spoke
Spanish more often than English.

Noah was taking his time loading sofa
cushions into the truck to keep an eye on our exchange. He hopped
down from the truck bed and started toward us.

“Maria, what’s going on? You’re speaking to
me, complimenting, and hugging?”

The creases around her lips stretched out
smooth when she smiled, adding to my unease. “I’m sorry for the way
I’ve treated you. I want to be with the children this weekend.”

Noah kissed his grandmother’s cheek in
greeting and walked inside the house to get his dad’s recliner. I
had decided to get rid of it and Maria was the one who bought it
for him, so it was only right that she got it back.

“Can I stay here with them? You can find
someplace to go, right? You and Lily will go to see that fight
together.” She took my hand. The skin on hers felt paper thin.

There was a boxing match in Vegas that
weekend. Lily had mentioned it a few times. She and I used to make
a yearly trek up there, at Solomon’s bidding, to watch whatever
fight he wanted to see and do a little gambling. This season’s
match-up was a heavyweight bout. A highly anticipated re-match
between two champs. I’d never be able to get tickets on such short
notice.

“I don’t understand.” My brow crinkled.

Maria was always anxious to take advantage
of the time with the kids, but an apology? And both boys for an
entire weekend? The sudden kindness was off-putting. I wasn’t sure
what to make of it.

A layer of cool sweat formed over my lips. I
felt the air from my nose breezing across it. “Are you dying?”

She chuckled. “Don’t be silly. Is this
him?”

Evan appeared beside me. His thick hair was
wet and slicked back, revealing his handsome face and profile. I
set my arm about his waist. The familiar touch did not escape
Maria’s attention.

“Maria, I would like you to meet my .
. . boyfriend,”
weird!
“Evan.
Evan, this is my—Sol’s mother, Maria Zuniga.”

“It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Zuniga.” He
politely dipped his head and extended a hand.

Maria gave him a long, examining look before
she took it. Evan set both of his hands around hers, softly shaking
in a gentleman’s fashion.

“So, you’re the one who finally got this
girl out of the house?”

He looked to me, asking with his eyes how to
respond.

“Yes,” I said.

“
And what do you do for a
living?”

“I work in film.” He cleared the sound of
sleep from his throat.

“Oh, that’s right. Lily said you were some
kind of actor. How is that working?”

When she used the word ‘actor’, the reserved
tenor implied acting was not a viable career option. Most times, I
would have agreed. But in that context, it was all I could do to
keep from laughing.

Evan’s brow gathered in a serious manner.
“Well, it’s not for everyone, but I guess you could say I’m doing
alright.”