“Your mom never told you, did she?” he asks with a small laugh and shake of his head, bracing his hands on his hips as he awaits an answer to a question I barely understand.
“Told me what?” I ask with more frustration.
“I’ve been coming over to help out with random tasks, like I did that time…” he falters, looking pained. I look away biting my lower lip.
Like that time my mom collapsed and you were the one to tell me after yelling at me about not being authentic? Yeah I remember.
A fresh wave of frustration fills me, but the look on his face only stirs sympathy for what he went through. Yes, we have our own shit going on, and I’m still mad at him for talking to me the way he did, but… It is scary watching someone collapse, especially if you don’t know why or their medical history. He acted. He helped my Mom when I wasn’t there. He called 9-1-1. He called me.
I look down at my hands, the tension between us like a stormy cloud, hanging around waiting to either let the rain fallor float away on a wind. I’m not sure which one I’d prefer. I shift back and forth on my feet in indecision.
“Well, I’ve just been helping out, that’s all. I’m sorry you didn’t know and I’ll go. I really don’t want to invade your space,” he says with a stiff smile, bending down to grab his shirt before exiting the bathroom, leaving me reeling.
“Wait!” I half yell as he takes the first step down the stairs. My eyes shift around trying to find words, a sign, a reason for him to stay, an outlet to yell at him to leave.
“It’s okay. If my Mom invited you, then it’s alright. I-I’m fine with it.” I try to give him the most authentic smile I can muster, because I do, despite her meddling, trust my mom’s intuition.
“You sure?” he questions, a foot hovering over the next step waiting for my reply. But I do really appreciate his intentions to make me comfortable and not invade my space.
“Yeah, it’s totally fine.”
We walk together downstairs and he makes his way towards the front door.
“So your mom and I had a standing meeting time to do things but with my new schedule I might be over at random times, is that alright? I know you’re busy, but I really want to be clear that this is in no way my attempt at trying to be around you, or get on your good side or whatever. June just asked and,” He pauses to laugh as if he has inside jokes with my mom already. “She has this way of asking but making it known it’s not really up to you.” His casual use of her name throws me off kilter.
“Well, that we can both agree on.” I smile, knowing exactly how my momasksfor things. He waves a hand from the porch and begins his walk home or to Biblio & Brew. I haven’t been to the cafe for a while now and I have no idea of his work schedule anymore. It’s all different and familiar simultaneously. I close the door and plop into my designated plush chair. Since everything happened, plus the beginning of my final undergradyear, I’ve been note taking, reviewing, and hunched over in the library in my minimal spare time. My schedule is filled to the brim with my thesis classes, lab time, tutoring, TA’ing, and carving out time to complete and turn in my med school applications. It’s been crazy and we’re barely even into the semester. I close my eyes and just sit with this never ending to-do list circulating around in my brain.
The last thing I need is to have any kind of distraction. And Dominic hanging around to help with little repairs around the house is definitely a distraction. I guess it does take some stress off Mom’s plate, especially with having a few more follow ups than usual since she collapsed. Honestly I’m so busy and our schedules are so crazy I’m sure today was just a fluke. I bet I won’t even see that much of him.
* * *
I’m staring at much more of Dominic than I’ve ever seen. Our upstairs bathroom toilet is still leaking and he is back to finish the job he started yesterday. Unlike yesterday however, he’s wearing even less clothing. With the sudden heat wave that hit last night, Dominic is in running shorts and again, no shirt.
And, of course, our air conditioner decided to crap out in the middle of the night. I could barely tolerate the heat myself, tossing and turning most of the night. I even had to change into a tank top and short shorts just to stay moderately comfortable. This morning was supposed to be my morning off where I could catch up on some sleep but then I heard Mom greet Dominic at the door and soon his tinkering in the bathroom pulled me from my restlessness.
I now stand frozen at the entrance to the bathroom, looking down at Dominic’s sweat glistened body lying face up on the floor with some tool in his hand. He’s working on the back of thetoilet, his head almost completely squished between the wall and the tank.
“Uh, hi.” I try to say as casual as possible, hoping I’m not being weird while trying to grab my toothbrush off the counter.
THUNK.
“Fuck!” Dominic groans, my casual morning salutation clearly startling him as his head makes a loud impact with the porcelain throne.
“Oh my God!” I exclaim, lunging forward to see if he’s okay, wedged in the back corner of my tiny bathroom. “Are you okay?” I ask quickly as I assess if there’s any blood coming from his head, then to his eyes to look at his pupils.
“I…um…Yeah, I’m all right,” he says stiffly, unable to look me in the eye. My brows furrow in confusion at his sudden awkward tone. I glance down and realize I’m straddling him, my bare legs resting on either side of his hips, one hand braced against the wall beside us and the other splayed across his naked chest. Also I’m pretty sure he’s spotted my peaked nipples through my tank top, that is if my vulva hasn’t fallen out of these shorts by now.
“I’m so sorry!” I say in a huff, scrambling to try and unstraddle him as gracefully as possible without flashing him any of my lady bits and making this even more humiliating than it already is. “I was worried you’d hit your head,” I explain stupidly, my back flat against the open bathroom door, arms crossed over my bra-less chest. Dominic stands slowly, wincing as he tenderly places a palm to the side of his head.
“I definitely hit my head but I don’t think there’s any permanent damage.” He offers me a friendly tight-lipped smile. “I was about to take a break soon anyway. Now seems like a good time.” He pulls his shirt from where it hangs over the lip of the tub between us. I gnaw on my bottom lip as I shamelessly watch him pull the shirt back over his head, straightening the fabric in place and covering up his obscene physique.
Get your head out of your ass, Celeste, and cover your vagina!
“Sounds good. I’ll…I’m just going to get dressed, clean my skeleton, then I’ll make breakfast,” I blabber, turning on my heel and retreating to my room as quickly as possible. I close the door a little too aggressively and hear a soft “Clean your what?” through the door before his footsteps move down the hallway. I rest my forehead against the cool wood, my skin feeling tight and hot, knowing damn well it has nothing to do with the weather.
Damnit Delaney, you’re in my head.
By the time I get downstairs, dressed in a flowing maxi dress and my hair piled high in a messy bun, Dominic is at the stove cooking. As my bare feet hit the main level floor, the most delicious scent hits my nose and has me tracking it all the way to the kitchen like a bloodhound.
