CPV
Aaron was pissed I was late. Big surprise. I slipped the boys a hundred each and told them to go play somewhere.
"Where?" they asked.
"You choose," I said, "You're starting school soon. I won't be there to tell you not to laugh at what people are thinking, take your desk apart or do anything more too advanced for thirteen year old. This is a lesson in responsibility. The only thing I ever want to tell you not to do from now on is look down a girl's top or up her skirt."
"He should have to tell you that at least twice a day," Aaron said with a smile.
"You are the dirtiest Christian I know," I said after I waved them off.
"And only God can judge me," he pulled out his Star of David. I'm not confused. He believes in God, all of him. He's mostly Christian but preferred the Star to the cross. He celebrated anything from Christmas to Diwali, whichever took his fancy. Imagine the time I pitched up for Hanukkah with a tree.
"She kissed me," I blurted.
"I'm listening," he looked up.
"I sang to her in the kitchen, we danced, we talked," I sighed. I was making a mountain out of a molehill. "Okay, it sounds like nothing now. She kissed me on the cheek anyway."
"It's something," he said as our meals arrived. Aaron had given the chef a two week menu.
"Really?" I asked, he'd thought less of sex.
"Not what you did," he waved his fork. "The fact that you think it's something makes it something." He put his fork down then put his right fist into his left hand with his elbows on the table. Interrogation coming up. "What is this?" he asked. A little broad for him.
"What is what, exactly?" I asked.
"This thing you have for her? Thrill of the hunt? Curiosity? Routine?" he held his stance.
"Routine?" it was hardly that.
"You tend to sleep with the women you marry," he shrugged.
"I don't wanna sleep with her. Okay, I do, but…" I am so confused.
"But that's not the main attraction," he sighed.
"Yes," for once he put something like I wanted to.
"Oh you idiot," he shook his head, "Next you'll be telling me she's different."
"She is," I wasn't even speaking to him anymore.
"And by next I meant three months from now," he parted his hands and clamped them back together hard. "You can't do this Charles."
"What do you mean?" I asked. He was killing it.
"You have three failed marriages. The only collateral damage was paper, except that one time. You wife to be has a dark side that I can see for days. She will never touch you now because you're the guy who's too good to be true. If you pursue this and it goes south, you're more than the guy who broke her heart, you're the guy who ruined the only family she has left," he looked me in the eye the entire time. "I'm not even going to mention the kids."
"Maybe it won't go south," I said.
"You're a romantic now?" he gave me the look, that look. The one that says 'you're an idiot' and 'you're not serious' all at the same time.
"Maybe I won't break her heart," I responded.
"Do you even know how many women hate you in the New York alone?" he raised his eyebrows. "You're a heartbreaker Charles. It's part of your genetic make-up."
"She does not have a dark side," of this I was sure.
"She can listen to the most heartbreaking story and not blink yet she flinches at the name of God. She has a dark side," he stabbed his food.
"Stop analysing her," I stabbed my food.
"It's a little hard not to when you ask," he said in a sing song voice.
"You really are a dream killer," I sulked.
"I know," he looked down.
"I'm going home. I'll have your words on my mind so could you wait here for the boys and keep them entertained for a few hours. They don't need to hear what you said about either of their parents," I'd suddenly lost my appetite.
"They'll be home at by eight thirty," he looked sad, not something that happened a whole lot.
I was on autopilot all the way home. I wish I had a happy place to go to.
BPV
"Why on Earth would you come to Brooklyn to get us thrown out of a club?" Maria asked as we sat on the sidewalk.
"I just wanted to see how far you'd take it," I answered honestly.
"Why?" she asked.
"I need someone I can trust," I told her.
"Why?" she asked the night sky.
"I need a little time to myself every once in a while but not everyone will understand," I replied.
"I see," she sighed. She didn't but someday she would. "You can trust me." She continued without looking at me. There was something about Maria that made it possible for her to see me better than most people on a certain level. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what it was.
"I don't need you to just keep it a secret from everyone else. I need you to keep it a secret from yourself," I said. I didn't know how much sense that would make to her so I continued, "My husband can read minds. If you even think there's a different version of the truth…" I trailed off.
"I know those," she smiled. "Don't worry. I convince myself of something before I try to convince anyone."
"When can you start?" I got up and offered her a hand.
"Tomorrow," she smiled, "That's if my boss isn't anal about employees being hung over on the first day of work."
"I'm sure she'll overlook that," I smiled back at her. We hailed a cab and I went home. I took some ice from the freezer and put it on my hand. That should teach me to stop throwing punches. Should. I sat on the steps and lit the first cigarette I'd smoked since I came back to Manhattan. I had a lot of planning to do.
