Happy Friday, y'all! Here's your chapter of the week. I hope you like it, despite it being (spoilers!) smut-free. Feel free to adjust your expectations.
Thank you again to my awesome supporters, my friends at OBFrankenfics, and you, my lovely readers. I love getting your comments and questions, so feel free to hit me up here, on AO3 or tumblr. :) Also, wish me luck, if you get a chance - I'm job hunting!
The local place that did fish well provided us with sustenance, and made me feel a lot less crabby, too (pun intentional, of course.) We took a walk by some local shops, stopping in here and there if something caught our eyes. (Teo refused to patronize the nearest big-box store, and was on a "support local small businesses" kick, although he'd most likely order some expensive towels you can only buy on the internet or in Tokyo.) We took a look at some tribal rugs and I listened to his usual rant about how midcentury modern has been destroyed by overuse and knock-offs. He refused to let me enter the spiritual/alternative bookstore, claiming he wouldn't be able to get me out of there for hours if we went in (he was probably right,) but he did come with me to the crazy candle store, where he had to wake me from a pretty detailed interior fantasy about whether Delphine had ever tried wax play before or might be into it. (I mean, I knew she liked candles for atmosphere, but it wasn't like we had time for a lot of experimentation and play before.)
"You've got that grin again," he observed, looking askance at the ice-cream shaped candles I had been unconsciously fondling.
"What?" I started, pulled out of my, like, horny trance. "These are cute. Look, this one looks like a little Eskimo Pie. It even has a bite out of it so you can see the vanilla inside."
"Right, that's what you're thinking about, not a certain tall, beautiful, European doctor who looks at you like you're a chocolate soufflė plated on solid gold."
"Nice simile," I observed, unable to hold my full grin back by then.
"Simile? I thought it was metaphor."
"Close, but a simile uses 'like' or 'as' in it, but I'll forgive you because you're a Spaniard," I teased.
"You use it like a dirty word," he rejoined. "I should've just said 'comparison,' knowing you have no mercy. That's it, I'm never cooking for you again."
"Uh, fine. We both know Michael makes all your recipes better than you do, anyway, even the Spanish ones."
"Hey! Remember whose house you're staying in," he warned me, entering full fake high dudgeon mode. "Unless you want an Eskimo Pie candle up your ass, and have to show up on Delphine's doorstep with a U-haul much sooner than you expected."
"Wow, that's funny," I deadpanned. "How long has that U-haul joke been around? Since the seventies?"
"I am only one year older than you," he said, for possibly the five hundredth time since we'd become friends.
"Hey, you guys, keep it down," Lola the manager sighed at us, also probably for the five hundredth time. "You're scaring away the real customers."
"'Real' customers?" I huffed in mock indignation, rounding on her. "Just for that, I'm taking my business to an establishment that appreciates its clientele!" I stormed out, leaving Teo at the counter. Five seconds later I stomped back into the store.
"And I'd like to buy this ice cream candle!" I informed Lola, smacking it down on the table. She barely blinked.
"$7.73," she informed me, and I dug out the cash, trying really hard not to burst into giggles.
"Don't mind them," Lola aimed at the confused tourist couple by the floating lotus candle display. "He used to be an actor and she's just weird. So glad to have you back in town, Cos," she smirked.
"We're here every Tuesday," Teo told them. "The third Tuesday of the month is ladies' night, no cover." He pulled a couple bills out of his wallet and held them out to the woman.
"Seriously, I apologize for our behaviour. Please take this and buy something nice for yourself," he said solemnly. By now the woman was laughing and the man flashed a wry grin. We headed to the exit.
"May I recommend the hand crafted stained glass votives in the back?" Teo turned to call over his shoulder at them. "They're really lovely."
We ended up getting some real ice cream, eating as we ambled down the street.
"What are you going to do with an ice cream candle, anyway?" He asked me, licking a drop from his cone before it hit his fingers.
"Eskimo pie candle," I corrected him. "I dunno. Maybe I'll use it for mood lighting. Maybe I'll put it on an ice cream cake."
"The last time we got an ice cream cake, Severo turned into the Tasmanian animal—"
"Devil, Tasmanian devil," I corrected.
"Whatever."
"Well, maybe I'll get an ice cream cake for Delphine," I said, licking my spoon. "You know, the Eskimo Pie thing is kind of an old joke between us." I wiped my chin. "Come to think of it, so are candles, too…"
"Oh, no, no, no. I don't need to hear anything about your, your strange ice cream candle lesbian sex fetishes," he joked.
"Hmm. Not that you haven't told me every detail of every sexual encounter you had when you lived in the city," I answered. He caught me slowing down to look in the window of the tattoo parlour.
"Are you thinking of getting another tattoo?" He asked me, peering over my shoulder.
"Maybe. I dunno," I shrugged.
"Maybe a little French flag staked over your heart? Wait… Oh. My. God," he exclaimed, stopping in his tracks. "You're not going to get her name, are you?"
"No. Not that." I busied myself scraping the last chunks out of my cup. "But maybe… something," I admitted, continuing to look and walk ahead.
"Cosima," he said seriously, putting his hand on my arm so I turned to face him. "You really love her, huh? I mean, you can see just to look at you that you two love each other, like… it's very special."
"Yeah," I acknowledged, feeling strangely both excited and like I'd been caught out at something.
"You know, you're not going to have any trouble getting jobs around here," he said, though I chose not to tell him it might require bullshitting on some tax forms. "And you're welcome to stay with us as long as you need," he continued, "and, of course we want you to spend more time with Severo, but— Well, it's obvious how very deep head over heels you are… and, you know that having a small child around a few feet down the hall wanting to climb in bed with you, it's not very private for two lovers who are… getting physically... reacquainted, so to speak…"
"What, Teo, what?" I urged him to spit out his point.
"Have you thought about moving in together?"
I stopped and blinked. Oh, shit.
"Who's the U-haul lesbian now?" I teased him, but I couldn't say it hadn't crossed my mind. Going to bed and waking up every day to her, sharing meals and small chores, that Sunday morning feeling when you're cozy and calm, maybe reading or going for a walk, having that person you want to take root with, to have a long-term home. I'd felt possibilities with other people over my life, but never ones that lasted, and after traveling so much the last ten years, thinking I had to, getting used to it and finding ways to touch, nurture and carry my sense of "home" with me, I'd stopped considering having both a person and a physical place in the world a possibility for me. It wasn't that I didn't think my life was full and meaningful. I didn't feel that at first and I certainly didn't feel it once Sevvy had been born. He was my one root, my one growing tendril among the people I'd grown to love as friends and family. And maybe every once in awhile I let myself acknowledge that there was part of me that yearned for that, but I figured being peripatetic was just where my path had led me. Live in the now, right? Don't pin too much on desires. They were fleeting, in life. But… over the last few weeks, it had hit me: that little ache inside, that...hope.
By now we'd both noticed that my thoughts had travelled elsewhere and an awkward pause had ensued. I tried to cover it up by looking in the window of the local drug store at the display of seed packets.
"Cos," he said, more gently, "I know I always stick my nose in the things, but you also know that I know love when I see it. There's a saying: 'frente al amor y la muerte no sirve de nada ser fuerte.' You know this, right?"
"Isn't that basically like YOLO?" I answered, barely keeping a straight face.
"Ugh, Cosima, it means you've got to face love. Love is so powerful… it's the center of our existence, our reason to live. If it's truly love, don't hesitate. You'll be sorry later if you do."
"Yeah, well, also they say 'Amor de lejos, amor de pendejos.' I get it. I even told Delphine long distance never works when I first met her, but am I supposed to live my life by every Spanish saying? You know I don't have that tolerance for drama as a gringa."
"Oh my God," he groaned, getting worked up. "That's not a Spanish saying! I mean, it is in Spanish, but we don't use 'pendejo' in Spain."
"I know, I know, and nobody under sixty-five says 'gringo,' either," I chuckled. "I just said it to get your goat. You know the times I most often use Spanish are in Latin America. Nice xenophobia, there, though."
"I'm not—" he stopped himself and ran a hand over his face. He was getting better at staying calm when I yanked his chain. "You know, I'm not giving in to your, your mischief. Let's just imagine I talked about my relatives in Argentina and you talked about racism then I talked about language and we ended up singing songs from Evita again, alright? I'm trying to be actually serious. This is actually serious!"
"Wow, okay," I responded , but I knew what he meant.
"This is not some crush," he carried on, though tempering his tone a little. "This is not even Shay, whom I know you loved and still love as a friend, but it wasn't the same. I'm telling you I see something special. You fucking glow together. You know I won't tell you what to do, but as your friend, as your co-parent of that, amazing… perfect little boy, I can't let you be all… blasé about this. Don't deny it. If you're afraid, you're afraid. If you're uncertain, that's fine, but I'm telling you: ten years apart should be a reason for not wasting your time now, not being cautious!"
He had the gloss of tears in his eyes, and I knew he saw the part of me that would rather tiptoe around or make jokes than make myself vulnerable to being abandoned, again. You abandoned her, too, I reminded myself. But I also knew that didn't matter. What mattered was what Delphine and I shared since we met again, our courage to let go of the hurt of the past and truly forgive. I mean, I didn't want to be pushy, for sure, and there were a lot of things I had to figure out about this big life change of settling down, but if I was true to my inner spirit rather than trying to ward off possible pain with supposed logic, I knew what I wanted with Delphine, where I wanted our relationship to go.
"You're right, man," I nodded, letting go of my tension. "I need to be open with her. I just… I have to figure out how to say it. This isn't exactly regular dating with someone you met recently… but I guess I've never really stuck to 'regular' or 'normal' dating, anyway." I gave him a little smile. "Why am I trying to start now?"
"Exactly," he said, and pulled me in for a hug, tucking my head under his chin. I sniffled a little, releasing emotion. "And you know what?"
"What?" I asked him.
"I am going to look so good in a tuxedo at your wedding."
"Pendejo," I muttered into his chest, and we both laughed.