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He flips the stone, rubbing it with his thumb like it’s a piece of glass and he’ll clear the surface to see something beneath.
“InMoonless Nights, the director gave her a pomegranate. She ripped it apart, red juice running down her arms… They banned the movie in China, said the scene was too provocative…” My dad chuckles to himself, shaking his head. “They couldn’t say why. But that was her power…she made you feel things.”
There’s a twist in my chest, a fiber twitching.
I look at Theo, at the emotions saturating her face. Her eyes meet mine, huge and shining with all her thoughts and feelings unexpressed.
Some people are an empty well. And some are a cup overflowing.
“I remember that scene…” Theo smiles. “I loved her from a movie. I can only imagine how you felt.”
“I never had a chance,” my dad says. “There was no choice about loving her.”
He swings his legs over the bench seat and gathers up a stack of plates. “Thanks, Theo. I was looking forward to that all day.”
“Will you come eat with us tomorrow?” she asks. “I’m making lasagna.”
“You canmakelasagna? I thought it only came frozen.”
Theo laughs. “Prepare to be amazed.”
My dad carries the plates all the way into the kitchen and sets them by the sink. He doesn’t hang around to wash up, but I’m stunned all the same. That’s the first time he’s stepped foot inside the house in years.
“‘Night, Sully.” As he shuffles past, he says, too low for Theo to hear, “If you’re not dating her, you’re a fool.”
I’m starting to think he might be right.
Dating Theo for real doesn’t sound so bad…
But that could make things extremely messy between us.
I’m about to make my move with Angus. Our dinner Friday night will be our first meeting without his stooges around—the perfect opportunity to give him a good, hard push.
I can’t distract myself with attachment to Theo. Emotion clouds judgement. I can’t create a situation where I might have to pick between her and this deal.
Rationally, I know the right choice: keep things professional until Angus signs on the dotted line.
The problem is…I like her.
The more time I spend with Theo, the less I can deny it.
When she beats me home, when I pull into the driveway of a glowing house, cooking smells and music as soon as I open the door, and that swooping anticipation in my gut as I stride toward the kitchen, picturing how she’ll turn, the smile that will light up her face…
Already I’m dreading her leaving at the end of the week.
Theo brings life to the house.
She opened all the blinds and cut back the wisteria covering the windows. She put the clippings in an old watering can, the purplish flowers spilling out like water flowing in reverse. She reads the news with her coffee in the morning and assaults me with the day’s happenings the moment I enter the room.
I could get used to this.
And I’m not supposed to get used to this. I’m supposed to see it as a limited-time thing—in five more days, she’s heading back to her cockroach-cleansed apartment. And a few weeks after that, we’ll be parting ways forever.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy her lasagna in the meantime.
Theo’s already got her hands in the soapy water. I scoot her to the side with a bump of my hip. “I’m washing.”
“I already started!”
