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“Oh,” Adrian turns towards me, “I’m well aware,” he winks, causing me to choke and spit out my martini.
“Lake, are you okay?” Beth asks, concerned.
Holding my hand up I manage to compose myself, and lean towards the person sitting next to me, realizing its Marius, Adrian’s father, who speaks even less English than Florina.
Spending the rest of the evening trying to avoid Adrian, I attempt to make conversation with Marius, but I am well aware of him next to me, making it hard to concentrate. Most of the time I nod and smile while mentally comparing his features to Adrian’s, and wondering how I didn’t make the connection before. They have the same brown eyes that crinkle at the sides when they smile, but where Marius has an angular jaw, Adrian’s is softer and more rounded.
“You have pretty eyes,” Adrian whispers in my ear, causing the hairs on my neck to stand up.
“Excuse me?” I ask quickly, turning around to see him smiling at me. The fine dark hairs along his jaw and chin are a little longer than I remembered. What once could be construed as missing a shave has now turned into something deliberate, and I have to say that I like it.
“My dad, he says you have pretty eyes,” Adrian clarifies, pulling my attention back to him. I can’t help but watch as his lips touch the glass of bourbon when he takes a sip. The way he casually drapes his arm over the back of the chair and his easy smile tells me that I don’t make him as uncomfortable as he makes me. Clearly this is not an awkward situation for him until his dad leans over saying something in Romanian that causes Adrian’s cheeks to redden.
“What was he saying?” I ask curiously. “So I can make sure he’s not roping me into an arranged marriage or something,” I explain, teasingly.
Adrian’s laugh is a deep rumble that travels through the small space between us, and I can’t help but lean in a little closer so that I can hear him over the loud chatter in the dining room. “He was telling you a Romanian fairytale aboutThe Princess and the Fisherman.”
Marius leans over me, using his hands to encourage Adrian to continue. Leaning my elbow on the table, I tilt my head. “Do tell,” I prod him to continue.
He doesn’t hesitate. “It’s about a princess who goes to the market to buy a fish and ends up falling in love with the fisherman,” he says simply and without any romantic details, but I get the feeling he’s leaving something out.
“I remind him of someone who would buy fish?” I tease, intrigued. “Clearly he doesn’t know me,” I laugh, taking a sip of my drink. My second martini is definitely making it easier for me to be in the same room as him.
“Why’s that?” Adrian asks.
“Well, for one, I don’t eat anything that has fucking eyes, and besides, I wouldn’t know how to cook a fish even if I did eat one,” I tell him, raising my martini glass as if toasting to a dead fish.
Adrian laughs, and when he leans around me, he says something to his father in Romanian,Ea nu manâncan carne. The words roll off his tongue easily, beautifully, and poetically.
Marius scoffs and throws his hands in the air, clearly disgruntled about something.
“What did you say to him?” I narrow my eyes suspiciously.
Adrian laughs again, shaking his thick head of hair. “I told him you don’t eat anything with fucking eyes.” His smile throws me off kilter, and he looks at me as if he’s replaying our night together in his head.
Marius laughs, reaching around to smack his son in the arm.
“What else did he say?” I ask, but Adrian hides behind his drink, taking a slow sip, which just makes me more curious. “Tell me,” I urge him further.
Adrian clears his throat, looking at his father embarrassed, and then back at me. Reluctantly he says, “He told me to stop messing around with girls my own age because this one will make a man out of me.”
He looks like he’s bracing for me to slap him, but all I can do is laugh. Just when I’m about to say something, Laura interrupts.
“I see you met my little brother,” Laura says from beside Adrian as she rests her hand on his shoulder. The action jolts me back into reality, and I’m reminded that not only is Adrian Laura’s little brother, but tomorrow he will be Beth’s brother-in-law.
“I sure did,” I say, smiling at Laura.
“Well, good,” she says, leaning down between us, her cheeks red and her eyes bright. “Now,” she demands with a ruffle to Adrian's hair, “make sure you treat her like family, Addy.”
Florina squeezes her short, round body between us and asks, “What’s this?”
“Dad and Adrian are going to do Lake’s flooring,” Laura explains to her, and my eyes go wide because at no point did I realize that Adrian would be involved in replacing my flooring.
“Oh,lay,” Florina uses her hands to demonstrate. “Get laid,” she says and smiles innocently, nodding her head, and I spit out my martini for the second time tonight.
Adrian chuckles next to me, obviously used to his mother’s mispronunciation of English words, but he doesn’t correct her. We’re interrupted by Ianna’s loud voice from the other end of the table, getting everyone’s attention. “A toast!”
The chatter quickly quiets down to a low enough decibel, and chairs and bodies shuffle in her direction. Ianna raises her glass and looks across the table to her sister, Laura, who takes her place next to Beth across the table from me. “To my sister, Laura, and her soon to be wife, Beth.” Ianna’s voice cracks and she takes a moment to regain her composure. “We couldn’t be happier about the joining of our families.” Ianna looks around the table and her eyes linger on me. “I wish you a long and happy life together.”
