“Hey, that’s going too far. Don’t be jealous of my sexy hair. But what did I expect from someone who probably has a boyfriend called Norman who’s only claim to coolness is being vice-captain of his school’s math team. And apologizes when he orgasms.”
She gasps and I think I might’ve hit a nerve.
“At least he doesn’t wear football cleats during sex for traction,” she almost yells.
“That… actually sounds like a great idea, thanks!”
She stares at me, her mouth agape, her eyes twinkling – like a Christmas at midnight. And the talk of sex has my mind flashing images it shouldn’t be at this time.
She bursts into laughter for almost a whole minute and I join her.
“We really sound like a couple of real catches,” she pants, trying to catch her breath.
“Yeah, anyone would be happy to have either us.” In that moment, I can’t help but think of her boyfriend. And where he is, and if she remembers him at all. Or if I’m the only man who’s fallen through the cracks in her memory.
“Jez?”
“Yeah?”
“How did you know I don’t like falafels?”
The question is loaded. And I want to answer too much, but I also don’t want to fuck this up and not respect her wishes from before.
“Do you really want to know?”
She doesn’t say anything, but there’s a longing in her eyes. So I make a decision.
“You told me.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. You said if you never had a falafel again for the rest of your life, you’d could live with that. You said that your day had been spent having 30 second conversations with strangers about beans and garlic sauce. It’s too bad, though, that you don’t like falafels ‘cos I heard Frederico’s makes really good ones.” I smile, remembering.
“I told you where I work?’
Damn. Busted. I could lie… but I don’t think I ever could to this woman. Not like this. Not to take advantage of her. So I tell her the truth.
“Um, no. You didn’t actually tell me that. I, er, I tracked you down. Based on some of the things you said.”
“You tracked me down?”
I just nod. I don’t know what else to say.
“Wow. Weird. Why?”
“I… don’t think you want to know.” I tracked you down because after knowing you for ten minutes, I couldn’t see a future of my life without you in it. And now you’re here. And I’ll do anything to make sure I never lose you again.
“Jez?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’ve had enough of reminiscing again. Let’s go back to our pact.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, I can do that.”
It’s quiet again. But not awkward. It’s hard not to get lost in the past, me thinking about what happened that night. And her, trying to figure out it all. If I’m this confused I can only imagine how hard it is for her.
So, I try to make it better
“Noemie, you play the ukulele beautifully. You really, really do.”
She smiles, and her hand strokes along the curve of the instrument in her hand with a love I understand as a fellow musician.
“You really think so?” There’s nothing to do but nod. “Thank you. My grandpa taught me.”
“Wow, he played?”
“Yeah. When I was little, my grandpa used to take care of me when my parents were at work, and I’d spend the whole day following him around like a little puppy. He had a collection of ukes, but there was one, one special one that he kept by his armchair. It was the only thing he brought with him when his family immigrated here from Belgium when he was 7 years old. He loved that thing.”
“Loved?”
“Yeah, he passed away about 5 years ago. He had cancer.” Her voice is wistful, but not sad.
“Did he ever hear you play?”
“Oh yeah,” she nods enthusiastically. “He taught me everything I know about music. I hear him in everything I play.”
Her openness touches me. Her ability to share these things that make up the very fabric of her. She’s forming more and more into this living, breathing, tangible being in front of me, instead of just a memory that keeps me company at night. It makes me want to be a part of it, and the only way to do that is to cut myself open and bleed.
“I lived with my grandparents when I was little as well.” I pause. I don’t want pity. But something tells me, she will understand. “My parents died in a car crash when I was about nine years old. My little sister and I moved in with them after… they were gone.”
“Oh. That must’ve been hard for you.”
“I’m not really sure how I’m here today, to be honest. There have been times, especially in the beginning, I just wanted to join them.”
She reaches out and squeezes my hand and then lets go.
“So, why are you still here?”
I tell her something only one other person knows. “I have a baby sister, Anca. I pretty much do everything because of her. She doesn’t like that. She’s 22 now.” I laugh a little, at how many times Anca tells me to get my own life and stop meddling in hers. “But after a while, it was for my grandparents as well. They made it easier than it should’ve been.
They’re great. I really miss them. I couldn’t repay them for everything by… causing them more pain.”
“Are they still alive?”
“Yes. They live in Romania. That’s where we’re from.”
She smiles. “Oh, okay, I detect a tiny accent. Not sure from where though. Romania. I’ve only ever seen pictures. It looks beautiful.”
I nod. “It’s the most stunning place on earth.”