Dinner was interesting, to say the least. The fun began even before the meal did. We were just heading into the dining room when my father, observant creature that he was, turned to me.
"I see that you've invited your friend to dinner." He seemed just a little too pleased with this.
"He's not my friend." I quickly replied, frowning at my father and thoroughly not appreciating the fact of how happy the new dinner situation seemed to make him.
"Lana doesn't have any friends." Mr. Uninvited said as plainly as if he was stating an unarguable fact such as 'the sky is blue' or 'the ladies of Alderaan are idiots.' I turned and glared at him, this unwelcome visitor in my home, my arms already folded across my chest. Undaunted by this, he smiled at me, the picture of all innocence, and shrugged. "That's what you told me."
"And I suppose you are now the wealth of all knowledge about me and my life." This man was so irritating; I had never met anyone like him. Why wouldn't he just go away?
My father, sensing that my foul mood was not improving because of this conversation, interrupted then, speaking soothingly to me. "Easy, Lana." I turned my glare on him, honestly having forgotten he was in the room until he spoke. How was it that this man could demand so much of my attention that I forgot someone else was there?
Apparently, my father's words did not affect the man, because he responded to me as if my father had never spoken. "I know far more about you than you would think." His voice was quiet, and his expression was still serene, but there was something about his eyes that were at odds with his outward expression.
His whole bearing, and his assuming words, infuriated me further. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my father close his eyes and drop his head in frustration, but I paid him no heed. "Yeah, well, I know plenty about you too," I snapped, ready to recite a long list of everything I was sure I knew about him, garnered from all my past experiences with others.
The man raised an eyebrow at me and folded his arms across his chest, mirroring my pose, although his mouth was still curved in a smile. "Oh really?" He scoffed and leaned closer to me. "You don't even know my name."
"Shall we eat?" My father, ever the peacemaker, was trying, but we were already as a snowball rolling down the hill. There was too much momentum for the conversation to just stop now.
I ventured a quick glance at my father before glaring back at the man. "Yeah, well, that's because you never told me your name…"
He didn't answer me but instead addressed my father. "I'm terribly sorry, sir. I think you are right, and we should begin to eat." My father was apparently satisfied with that and began to walk to the table, but I most certainly was not placated.
"How am I supposed to know something when you never told me?"
"How can you presume to know someone when you don't even know their name?"
We stood there for a moment, eyes locked with each other's, before my father spun to face me. "His name is Bowen." He turned to the man, Bowen. "Shall we eat now?" I will give him credit; he was really trying to keep everything smooth and peaceful.
Bowen, as it were, and I held our gaze for a few moments longer before he broke it and looked at my father. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Faolan." And without another look at me, he walked to the table and sat down.
My father gave me an encouraging smile and motioned for me to join them. Severely dazed after having been matched so easily in a contest of words, I silently took my place at the table.
The tension that had grown in the air was short lived, for my father and Bowen had much to speak of to each other. I guess it shouldn't have surprised me that they got on so well. After all, my father did work with Bowen's father in the Royal Guard. I ate my dinner in silence for the most part, which was an oddity for me, but I had nothing to say, and much as I was loathe to admit it, I enjoyed hearing the two of them talk of the goings on in the palace.
When dinner was over, I began to clear the plates, but my father stopped me. "Lana, why don't you and Bowen go sit outside. It's a beautiful evening, and we may not have many more like it this year, for winter is fast approaching."
I knew what he was trying to do, but after the little scene before dinner I was in no state to fight with anyone about anything, so I just shrugged. "If you're sure you don't need help in here."
My father shook his head no, and went into the kitchen carrying some plates. I turned to Bowen and realized that for the second time that night, I was at a loss for words.
Finally, after thoroughly berating myself for my sudden lack of mental skills, I frowned at him and said the only thing that came into my head. "Are you coming?"
He turned a scrutinizing look on me and regarded me for a few moments. "Do you want me to?"
I did, but I couldn't actually let him know that so I shrugged.
He shook his head, disappointment clear in his eyes. "I think you spend far too much time alone with your books."
His words struck a nerve, sounding entirely too much like so many encounters with the bitter, stupid women of the town. I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm going outside. Yes, believe it or not, I do go outside. I don't just sit inside and read. Believe what you want about me, I don't care. If you want to listen to those stuck-up, half-witted, narrowminded…"
"Lana!" His exclamation startled me out of my rant. He stood up and came over to me and grabbed both of my shoulders. I felt my body stiffen at the touch, but he didn't make any indication that he noticed. I looked up at him with my lips pursed and saw that he was regarding me with a puzzled look. "I'm not…" He exhaled in a sigh, not finishing his thought and instead asking, "Why are you so quick to take offense?"
I stepped back and pulled out of his grasp. "Why are you so quick to be an ass?" I glared at him and then stormed out of the little house, slamming myself down on to the worn wooden bench to the right of our front door. I expected him to come outside. I also expected him to ignore me and leave, never to talk to me again. Part of me wanted that. Most of me did not and that terrified me.
He did come outside, but instead of leaving he sat down next to me. He turned sideways so he could look at me, but I continued to face front.
"I'm sorry you think I'm an ass. I didn't come over tonight, or talk to you in the library this afternoon, to upset you."
As he took a breath, I turned to him. "Why did you, then?"
He smiled warmly at me, and I wondered how he didn't hate me by this point. "Because I wanted to be your friend."
I was incredulous. Never had anybody made this much effort to get to know me, or claim to want to be my friend. Most people minded their business, and I never had reason to take issue with that, or try to change it.
"Why?" I asked, both suspicious and hopeful.
He laughed, and I found myself fascinated with the heartiness of the sound of it. "You're so interesting." He smiled and put a hand on my shoulder when he saw that I took mild offense to that. "No, that's a good thing. Most people around here are all the same. You're like a breath of fresh air."
Thoroughly embarrassed by what he just said, I dropped my head, but I could not help the smile that was spreading across my face. There are probably hundreds of answers that he could have given to that question, but he managed to pick the exact right one to completely disarm me.
I'm pretty sure he realized this, because when I was able to look back up at him, he had what could only be described as a triumphant smile on his face. For once, I smiled back at him, happy, but shocked, that I had one friend in the world. Maybe he was right; maybe everyone did need at least one friend.
After a moment he stood up and, looking up at the sky, he sighed deeply before turning back to me. "I hate to do this, but I have to get home."
A pang of disappointment hit me, effectively shocking my system, for it was the last thing I expected to feel. But nonetheless, I felt it, and it further unbalanced my already teetering emotions. I stood up and nodded in agreement. "It is getting late."
"Well then, until we meet again, friend Lana." He gave me a jaunty wink and I couldn't help but laugh at his mannerisms.
"Ok…" I hesitated to use the word, but there was no way around it after he said it. "friend Bowen." He smiled broadly at this, pivoted on his heels and began to walk down the path, stopping once to turn and wave.
I waved back, and as he faded from view I shook my head, both at him and at my own behavior as of late. I walked back into the house to be greeted by my father, standing barely inside the front door.
"Has Bowen left already? You were courteous to him out there, weren't you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Of course, father." I said to him, smiling due to my unusually good mood. "In fact, after all that, he still wants to be my friend."
My father raised his eyebrows at me. "Your friend?" He shook his head and his eyes were filled with doubt. "Are you sure that's all?"
I narrowed my eyes at my father. "Why wouldn't that be all?"
"Well," he began, his eyes twinkling; "He's making quite an effort for someone who merely wants to be your friend." I stood and stared at my father in shock. He smiled at that, kissed my forehead and turned to go to bed, calling over his shoulder, "Have a good sleep."
I stood and stared after him for a while, and then my eye caught sight of the handkerchief still lying on the arm of the sofa. I walked over and picked it up, examining it as if it could give me answers. My father had no idea what he was talking about. The idea that Bowen wanted anything more than to be my friend was purely ridiculous. I was able to push that thought out of my head, but the seed that my father had planted remained there, dormant, ready to grow if it were so encouraged.
