Chapter Twelve – Day Eight Late Evening
"Ahueyet!" I exclaim as I am surrounded by an overwhelming smell but as I emerge from the darkness, it recedes leaving me confused. "Wha-? Where…?"
"Sssh, just relax and breathe," A familiar voice says and I feel a soothing touch on my cheek.
I blink and look around, recognising my childhood bedroom but I am still feeling disorientated. "Wheeler?" I whisper. "What happened?"
"You fainted Babe." He says quietly and everything starts coming back to me.
"That woman…the priest…everything was crushing me. I could not breathe. I could not find you." I reach out to grip his hand, steadying myself against the dizzying memory.
His voice is gentle and understanding as he tries to reassure me. "I was there. I was trying to get to you, but the crowd…I got to you just before you passed out. I caught you though."
"Of course you did." I smile at the comforting thought that he is always there to catch me, no matter how badly I fall.
"Here," Wheeler holds a cool glass of water up to my lips and I take a drink from it.
I could have held it myself of course but I still feel too weak to argue with him, beside it is nice to be taken care of.
"Spasiba."
"You're welcome… speaking of Russian phrases, what did you say when you woke up?" He asks and I see a glint of amusement in his eyes.
My head is still foggy but as I think back it comes to me and I blush. "Nothing."
"Come on…tell me!" he teases and I am sure he has a good idea of what I said, even if he does not know the exact translation.
Well there is no way I am going to say it in English, I am just grateful my Grandmuska was not in the room! "Nyet, it is bad!"
"I like bad," He whispers and leans his head against mine.
I want to laugh but I keep my face straight as I respond. "I know you do…you are bad at video games, sports, paying attention…"
"Hey!" He protests at my unjust comments (well mostly unjust,) and pokes my side in retaliation.
I let out some much needed laughter and squeal as he continues to tickle me. I love doing this with him, it is perfectly innocent of course, but if someone had told me a year ago that I would ever be this comfortable rolling about on my bed with Wheeler I… well actually I would probably have refused to speak to them again!
Our silliness is short lived though and when we stop and I try to sit up, my head spins. I take a deep breath and let it go slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose as I try to make everything stop moving.
"You okay?" Wheeler asks immediately, his voice full of concern, and tucks his arm about me for support.
"Da, just got dizzy. It is passing." I tell him
He sounds sad as he apologises, I wish he would stop doing that! "For making me laugh? Da, how dare you!" I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You know what I mean." I think I prefer his lame jokes to this!
I am irritated now. "And I told you…STOP. APOLOGIZING!"
"I know, I know. I can't help it. It's habit." He is still doing it, even when he is not actually saying sorry, he is!
So I change the subject. "I smell…Pelmeni!"
He sounds relieved and he jumps on the new topic enthusiastically. "Yeah, is that what that is? Your Gram brought it for me to eat…I was waiting for you to wake up though."
"Oh nyet, I could not possibly eat that." I tell him quickly, my stomach feels queasy just at the thought of it.
He shakes his head. "No, I was waiting for you to tell me what it is! It didn't feel right asking her!"
"I told you, it is Pelmeni." I know what he meant but I feel like being difficult, it is more normal for us.
"Yeah, okay…but what is it?" He rolls his eyes at me and I want to laugh again.
"Try it," I urge.
He is in a stubborn mood though. "Not until I know what's in it!"
"My grandmother is not going to serve you anything that is not edible! And besides, you have never been picky about what you eat before!"
"Sure I have! I always know WHAT I'm eating! It kinda looks like ravioli…minus the sauce."
I think about that and give in. "I guess it sort of is. It is a traditional Russian dish usually made with minced meat filling, wrapped in thin dough, made out of flour and eggs, sometimes with milk or water added. For the filling, Grandmuska usually mixes together pork, lamb, and beef. Various spices, such as pepper, onions, and garlic are mixed into the filling."
"It smells good." He says, still seeming reluctant.
"And it tastes good! I wish I had the stomach for it…but I do not think I can handle it now." I say sincerely.
"Do you want a bite? Just eat half of one? You know…to prove to me that it is actually safe!" He teases.
Okay, I am not that stupid but it will please him and after all he has been doing for me, he deserves to be pleased. "Fork it over, as you would say!"
He cuts one of the parcels in half and feeds me with it, something at the back of my mind says I should be self-conscious but I am not… not until he wipes away some mess from my chin! Bozhe' moy! How embarrassing and I can feel the blush creep up into my cheeks.
"Don't worry, I got it all." He tells me but that is so not the point.
"Sorry," I tell him and I feel like a small child, this is not the way I wanted to find out that he would be a good father.
"Don't be…I was the one that dripped on you!" That is sweet of him to say but I do not know how to respond and the silence continues until he asks. "Are you feeling any better?"
"I am exhausted." I admit.
Obviously intending to leave, he says, "I should let you rest."
Oh no! That was not what I meant, I do not want to be on my own yet, not even here. "Nyet, I am fine. You do not need to leave."
"But you just said…" he begins looking confused
"That does not mean I was trying to send you away," I try to keep my voice even, not wanting him to know how much I need him to stay.
"Okay then…I'll stay." He says it nonchalantly enough but I detect the slight hesitation.
I am being unfair so I give him a chance to leave. "Unless you are tired and want to go…"
"Nope…I don't wanna go anywhere," He sounds like he means it this time and I relax.
"Good, I am comfortable…" But this is still new for us both and I do not want him to feel like he has to do everything I want all the time. "...as long as you are? I am not too heavy am I?"
He flexes his muscles as he makes a typical 'Yankee' joke. "No way! Haven't you seen these pythons I call arms?"
"I may have noticed once or twice," I answer, more honestly than I intended. Hopefully it sounded like a joke but the irony was directed at myself, I notice him much more than I am comfortable with. Besides, even if I had not noticed before, I could not have missed the strength in his arms while I was removing the splinters the other day.
He eats his Pelmeni, offering me a bite now and then as we chat. I am curled at his side with is arm cuddling me…mhmmm, I guess in the coils of those 'pythons' as he calls them, is rapidly becoming my favourite place to be. It could almost be a date if it were not for the circumstances, and the fact we are discussing a funeral.
"What are you?" I ask suddenly.
He is obviously confused but still does his best to answer. "Huh? I'm a guy, a Planeteer, an American, a red head…"
"Nyet, I mean…I was thinking earlier…I do not know what religion you are. We have never really discussed it. We have never had a reason too." Am I being too nosy? "You do not need to answer if you do not want to, if it is too personal."
He says it is not and I listen to him describe another little piece of his past. He tells me he was raised a Catholic but that he is not particularly religious himself. It always makes me feel sad when he talks about his parents and I wish I could do something to make it all better - not that my life was perfect, I never knew my mother, my father was distant and I was an orphan by my mid teens - but I still feel incredibly protective of my Yankee, who is only tough on the outside.
"It will be interesting to see what you think of our church, how it compares to what you are used to." I tell him, wanting to keep away from anything too personal.
Somehow I do not think he is really interested in our church but I cannot help noticing how he always takes an interest in me. "Yeah. So, what are you, if you don't mind my asking? Besides, blonde, beautiful, and Soviet?"
"Russian Orthodox." I reply.
"That's what I figured. My neighborhood in Brooklyn, Bensonhurst, is a big time Italian area. The majority of the residents are Italian, speak Italian, and are basically very stereotypical Italian. Organized crime and such."
"Like the Godfather?" He made me watch it, it is a terrible 'guy' film but I inflict what he calls 'chick flicks' on him so it is only fair. I can hear Gi's voice in my head, teasing me about how much we put up with just to spend time together. At the time I told her she was talking nonsense, but she may have had a point, not that I am going to admit it to her.
He laughs, obviously pleased that I remembered his film. "Not quite! The Godfather type would live in Dyker Heights… Bensonhurst is more like the ones who work for the Godfather."
What was the other name… "The Goodfellas?"
He laughs again and I wonder if he is laughing at me but when I look up into his eyes I realise he is just amused at the comparison. "Yeah, I guess so. I've never really thought of it that way, but that's a good way to explain it. Anyway, the churches are pretty elaborate. And the thing about America, in the older parts of it, many of the people who settled there brought parts of their culture with them. The designs of the older churches are very 'European.'"
Oh! "Really?"
"Yeah, so I'm really interested to see what your church looks like…unless you've changed your mind and don't want to go…" It is more of a request than an offer but it is not one I can grant.
Please try to understand Yankee. "Wheeler, I am too exhausted to have this argument with you. I know you mean well, and I know you are probably right, especially after today…but I HAVE to go to Boris' funeral. I have to be there for my family. I need to continue to try to mend the relationship between my uncle and me."
"Hey Babe, I gotta get up. I need to take this dish out to the kitchen to clean it off." He says, suddenly changing the subject and ending our comfort.
He does not understand… but why not? Surely he would not have missed James' funeral… but then maybe he would, he can be very black and white sometimes. "I can get it tomorrow." I offer, referring to the plate. We do not have to end this, we can just talk about something else.
He hesitates but then turns me down. "Thanks, but I don't want your grandma to think I'm a pig."
That is an excuse and it I am hurt by it. I am sure that he would say it is the withdrawal that is making me so emotionally weak, but I am beginning to realise it is not just that, not where he is concerned. The difference the Bliss is making right now is that I am not able to hide my feelings. "Since when have you cared about cleaning up dishes? When we are running low on plates on Hope Island, we know to go check your room because they are probably all piled up and dirty there! If you want to leave… just say so."
"I don't wanna leave…" He says quickly and I think there is something else wrong. "Erm, I, uh,…I'll stay if you want. I just…I gotta pee. Just didn't think…that is…I mean…too much information?"
"Oh…sorry!" My cheeks are burning now… okay maybe it is the withdrawal, and paranoia… though he could have just said he needed the bathroom. Boys!
I sit up so that he can have his arm back and try to make up for it. "I did not mean to hold you up. Go! Sorry,"
"It's ok," He chuckles at my awkwardness and heads for the door but I am once again assailed by worry.
"Wheeler?" I call shyly.
He turns back in polite enquiry. "Yeah?"
"Are you coming back?" I ask, as evenly as I can. "Or are you going to bed?"
"We should both get some sleep," He begins and my heart bangs in my chest. Why am I so afraid of being alone? I calm down though as he continues and nod my agreement. "I'll be back though. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."
Grandmuska will probably keep him talking for a few minutes, I should have time to change into something I can sleep in. I have brought one of Wheelers hoodies with me to snuggle up in, I hope my grandmother does not work out that I am wearing his clothes though, that could take some explaining!
It does not take me long and then I stretch out on the bed and try to relax, Wheeler will be back soon now…
To Be Continued…
And don't forget, to get the full affect of the story, you HAVE TO read Wheeler's side of the story in Chapter 12 of Becks7's Co-Dependents