13: I Know Come-Hither Eyes When I See Them

when i was a child and didn't know any better i used to stare at the sun for minutes at a time and after a while the bright golden circle of the sun would melt away into the blue of the sky like i was looking at a deep blue sky within a sky someone asked me about her the other day and i found myself standing there describing her her eyes lost in the thought of her eyes such a deep deep blue like staring into the sun

--"staring at the sun" anthony stewart head

I've traveled so much over the course of my lifetime, but it still always amazes me how much of a buzz I get from stepping into some foreign land. In all my wanderings I've never been to the United States before, and though I've only been in the country a matter of hours (most of it spent in a taxi cab or this blasted train car), I can already feel that fuzzy mythological idea of America encroaching on my disciplined mind. Probably it has more to do with the fact that we're finally off the damn boat, and I can finally spend some time with my husband on dry land. I'm on my honeymoon! It's a rather giddiness-inducing situation, really.

The train pulls into the station and the attendant announces we've arrived in Boston at last. Rick's cousin Robbie is supposed to meet us here and give us a ride to the house.

We've just barely stepped off the train when we hear the call of "Rick!" from across the platform. "Rick, over here!"

A tall, burly man barrels his way through the crowd toward us, barely giving Rick a chance to say hello before crushing him in an overzealous hug. "Robbie," my husband chokes, "nice to see you." Robbie lets go of him and Rick makes an exaggerated gasp for air. "Run the office into the ground yet?"

"Believe it or not, we did just fine without you." Robbie chuckles enthusiastically, slapping Rick on the back as if the hug torture had not been enough. He turns in my direction and notices me for the first time. "And who is this pretty lady?" he asks. His eyes twinkle with energy, and I'm suddenly hit with an image of Robbie in twenty years or so--he'll make a good Santa Claus.

"Robbie Gardner," Rick says, slipping an arm around my waist, "meet Evelyn O'Connell."

Robbie's thick brow furrows in confusion, and his eyes flick back and forth between us. "You related?"

"As of nine days ago," I put in, offering my hand. "Rick's told me so much about you..."

"Wait a minute..." Robbie clicks the pieces into place and shakes my hand excitedly. "Did my little cousin go off and get married without telling me? Well I'll be damned, little Ricky has finally grown up! Oops, pardon my language, Mrs. O'Connell."

"Call me Evelyn, please."

"Wait a minute..." Robbie fixes Rick with a brotherly frown. "Is this the Evelyn?" He turns to me, grinning broadly. "I'll be damned, you're the Evelyn!"

"'The Evelyn?'" I ask, getting a bit worried.
Rick clears his throat. "Uh, I may have...mentioned you...once or twice."

"Once or twice?" cries Robbie. "From all I've heard, Evelyn, you're the woman of his dreams. Just don't break his heart again, all right? I'd hate to lose a cousin."

"What exactly did he tell you about me?"

"Only a few things." Robbie pauses. "Mostly I heard stories of the beautiful librarian who stole his heart, seduced him, and swept out of his life quicker than you could say 'walking, talking corpse.' Not sure I ever really got that last reference."

"Private joke," I say. A lump has formed in the back of my throat and it's hard to talk around it.

I focus the wrath of my eyes on Rick to take my mind off it. "You told people about me?"

"All good things," he defends himself. "You'll have plenty of time to dig up dirt on me later. Let's get out of here."

We retrieve our bags and head to Robbie's car, and I swear he doesn't stop talking for a straight ten minutes, not even to take a breath. "So," he says, as we finally are piled into the car and on our way, "how did you two meet up again?"

"Erm..." we both say, not sure how to respond. I suppose we'll have to tell this story a lot in the next few weeks, might as well get a rough draft hammered out now. "Rick, um, he happened to be in London, and, uh--"

"And I was in the neighborhood, and--"

"And there was a whole big issue with...um..."

"All right, all right!" Robbie says. "You two better get your story straight. Even a sharp guy like me is having trouble connecting those dots."

"Well," says Rick, "the truth is sort of that I came to England, happened to find Evy's house as it was being attacked by some evil henchmen--"

"Wait, wait," interrupts Robbie. "'sort of' the truth?"

"See, Evy had a vision about this thing called the Bracelet of Anubis, and the evil henchmen wanted it so they could raise this mummy so he could take over the world--which is the whole reason we met nine years ago--"

"Yeeeeeah," drawls Robbie, clearly not buying it. "Must have missed that story."

Then Rick does something which takes both I and Robbie off guard. "Our son was kidnapped," says Rick. He says it proudly, no trace of regret or shame in his voice--these are the facts, he says with his tone, screw what anybody thinks of them. "It was somewhat of a crisis. Some very bad people messed with some very dark magic, and I almost lost more than I knew I had."

"Your..." trails Robbie. I don't blame him for being at a bit of a loss. "...Your son. I... Okay."

"His name is Alex. He's eight. What is it, January, January twenty..."

"Twenty-fourth," I supply. "His birthday, January twenty-fourth."

"I wasn't going to drop this on you right away," says Rick, "and I know it probably doesn't make any sense--"

"Rick," interrupts Robbie. "This is me you're talking to here. If I do say so myself, Evelyn," he says, turning to me, "I don't believe I've ever seen Rick this radiant before. He looks positively on cloud nine. Willing to bet that's all your influence, little lady."

"You have no idea," Rick mumbles, pressing a kiss into my temple. "You have no idea."

We pull into a residential area, tree-lined streets of narrow, tall bricked homes with stone steps and expensive cars parked in tight paved driveways. Robbie pulls up behind a gleaming Bentley and fixes a pointed finger at Rick. "I don't mean to intrude on your honeymoon, pal, but you gotta stop by the office in the next few hours or I'll have a riot on my hands. The second I get there they'll know you're back in the country."

"Yeah, yeah," says Rick, pulling our luggage out of the back. "I'll be there in an hour."

"Goodbye, Evelyn," calls Robbie as he backs out into the street once more. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"What's tomorrow?" I ask Rick as we wave and pick up the bags again.

Rick shrugs. "Damned if I know. I'm sure they're planning something."

For the first time I take a good look at the apartment as Rick motions me up the walkway. The front door is painted red, a nice splash of color against the faded brick. I take in rows of floor to ceiling windows on every story, even some stained glass on the third floor. "It's not much," says Rick, grinning. He swings open the door, guiding me through it. "But it's home."

"It's beautiful."

"This is just the entryway, Evy."

"Where's the dog?"

"Addison is staying with my secretary, I'll pick him up later." We deposit the bags on the floor and Rick strides into the next room, empty except for a china cabinet at the far wall. "And this is the dining room. Empty, yes, but nonetheless a dining room."

"Shouldn't you have a table?"

"I don't have many dinner parties," Rick confesses.

"It's a wonderful design choice," I tease. "A table would just clutter the space."

He walks into the center of the room and turns around to face me. He starts talking about something or other, but I've stopped paying attention. He's so handsome when he smiles... It just lights up his whole face and reaches his eyes in a way so few emotions do.

Now granted, I'm not the best conversationalist in the world, but the moment we step into the dining room my wife gets a very faraway look in her eye and stops paying attention all together. "Evy?"

She blinks, still a little dazed looking. "Hmm?"

"I think I lost you there."

"No, no, I'm just so enthralled by the sound of your voice..."

"Yeah," I say, taking a step backwards. "Kitchen's this way."

"Yes, but I'm over here. I can see the kitchen anytime."

I know come-hither eyes when I see them, and I also know when I must resist or else I'll be doomed. "I have to go to work, you know," I say, attempting to reason with smoldering eyes and the gentle swaying of her hips as she walks toward me. "I'll be back in an hour, tops. Really. Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" She puts on her best pout. God, this woman is going to be the death of me. "You'd rather go to work than spend time with your wife? I hope this isn't the start of a trend."

If I stay here one more second I may never leave. "The quicker I go, the quicker I'll get back."

Evy's pout turns into a coy little half-smile, almost worse than the pout. "Oh, all right. Leave then, so I can start wishing you'd come back."

I manage to get out of the house without being ensnared by Evelyn again, though it takes willpower. Soon I pull into the parking lot of Jamilah Shipping, and realize I've driven the whole way without even thinking about driving. Thinking about Evy tends to push all other subjects to the background, I guess.

The office nearly explodes when I walk in. Everyone is shouting and patting me on the back and asking questions. It's a little alarming, actually, a bit like being trapped in the middle of a stampede. Either I'm a good boss, or my employees are trying to kill me. "Staff meeting in five minutes!" I yell. "Big announcements, everyone needs to be there!"

Luckily Sherrie, my assistant, grabs hold of my arm and steers me into my office, away from the hubbub. Granted, her skirt is always a bit crooked and her hair is one big frizzy blond mess, but Sherrie reminds me a bit of Evy when she was younger--in a constant state of disarray, but brilliant to a fault, so somehow she makes whatever mess I get myself into work out okay. She's also the only woman I know who looks like a feather and yet somehow has the ability to defeat any man in the room in an arm wrestling match. She's been working for me for about four years now, and I don't trust anyone in the company, not even the managers, with stuff I trust Sherrie to handle.

"Tell me all about London," says Sherrie the moment we're out of the crowd. "Did you spend the whole time working? Did you see Big Ben? Did you meet any pretty girls?"

I poke at the mass of hair on top of Sherrie's head. "What the hell is this about? Are you storing something up there?"

"It's the height of fashion," says Sherrie, giving me a malicious look. "Jesus, Rick, for your information, I didn't have time to do anything with it this morning. So sue me, is there some new office dress code I don't know about?"

"Nah. I don't know about London, but..."

She perks up, eyes narrowing suspiciously behind wire-rims. "London? What about London?"

"You have an uncle there or something, don't you?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Just wondering. So, I got married."

Her jaw literally drops, and she grabs my left hand. "Oh my God. Either you bought a really expensive ring just to play a joke on me, or you're telling the truth."

"I cannot tell a lie."

She looks at me blankly for a minute, deciding whether or not to believe me. "That's so wonderful!" she finally bursts out, giving me a hug to rival Robbie's in intensity. "Why didn't you bring her here? Afraid the wolves would tear her to shreds?"

"Yeah, I sort of like her. Wouldn't want her to meet you guys too early, might ruin things."

"So what's it like to be married?" Sherrie, despite being one of the most down-to-earth women I know, by now has a dreamy look on her face. "How did you propose? How long have you known each other? Do I know her? Is she from here? Where did you meet?"

"Slow down, slow down," I say, sitting behind my desk and contemplating the unpleasant piles of paperwork stacked on it. "Her name is Evelyn Carnahan. We met about nine years ago, when I was still living in Cairo. We had a little..."

"Fling?"

"I suppose. As much as it's a fling when you're about to propose."

Sherrie looks horrified. "Oh my God, that's so sad! What, did she turn you down, and then you didn't see each other for nine years and suddenly met and fell in love all over again?"

"Are you telling the story or am I?"

"Fine. You tell it." Sherrie plops down in the chair across from me and puts her chin in her hands, waiting patiently for the fairy-tale to unfold. "Go."

"I never proposed, actually. Didn't get a chance to. There was a...misunderstanding, I guess you'd call it. So we hadn't seen each since...I don't know, eighteen days ago."

Sherrie sighs. "Love at first sight, then? That's so romantic."

"Well, sort of. Not really. Complications abounded. It all worked out."

"How did you propose?"

I shift in the chair, suddenly realizing how inadequate the proposal really was. "Er...well...we were on a cargo plane..."

Sherrie's face drops a bit. "And..."

"And I...I just said, 'Marry me, would you?' and that was it."

"Well, that's... God, Rick, did you at least have an engagement ring?"

"Erm...no. She didn't seem to mind!" I defend myself. "After all, she did accept."

Sherrie looks like she doubts the latter statement, but lets the matter go. "So what's this rumor I hear about you moving to London?"

"Did Robbie tell you that?"

At the innocent question her cheeks redden. "No! What makes you think I talk to Robbie? He doesn't talk to me!"

I eye her suspiciously, trying to determine what it is she won't tell me. She's been acting like this when it comes to Robbie for a while now, and I can't for the life of me figure out what the hell is going on. "Is there something you want to tell me about you and Robbie?"

"No!" she cries, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Now are you taking me to London or not? I'd expect a raise. And I've been thinking that I want my own office. Maybe you should give me a promotion. Or at least give me more power."

"That would be scary."

She sticks her tongue out, and it occurs to me that Sherrie is less like a secretary and more like an incredibly annoying little sister. I can't imagine what devious plans she and my wife could cook up together. I am doomed.

~*~*~*~ :)

I think Sherrie and Robbie might be cute together...do I smell a spin-off? Interested? ;)