This penthouse was the fucking shit.
Sure, Javier was gone and sure, he was bailing a friend out of jail, but I was having the time of my life.
I slid down the floors in my fuzzy socks and underwear for the nth time, about to shit myself with happiness.
Grandmother never let me do this kind of stuff, but I had a vague memory of doing this with my father years ago. The memory made me feel so happy and so sad at the same time. It was the only memory that made me feel such a rush of good and bad emotions.
When I almost successfully achieved a concussion, I decided it was time to stop.
I walked around the apartment-this time with less vigor. It was such a beautiful place. I'd always loved big apartments in the city. It was the little girl inside of me that was infatuated with all that was going around her.
It was never ending. People were always out, lights were bright. It gave you hope.
I looked out of the huge window overlooking the city for god knows how long before a text broke me from my thoughts.
Javier: Are you alright? If you're hungry, you can eat. It may be a while before I'm back.
I sent him a quick text telling him that I was okay, and that it had only been an hour.
An hour and he was already making sure of my whereabouts and wellbeing.
Is he always going to be so protective?
Probably.
I realized I didn't mind that, and it would be weird for him to be different. I honestly probably needed someone to keep me in check anyway.
My phone began to ring, breaking my thoughts. Grandfather.
"Hello?"
"Hello darling! How is everything? Are you enjoying the beach? Has Javier taken good care of you-"
Oh, he's taken very good care of me.
"Yes, yes and yes. I'm sorry I haven't called. I texted you, but I'm guessing you still haven't figured that out yet?"
"No, the blasted thing. I don't know what was wrong with my other phone-"
"Grandfather, your other phone was practically a medieval aged compass."
"Well I liked it! I'm a creature of comfort, you know. I knew how to operate everything on that phone. Anyway, darling, what have you been doing at the beach of paradise?"
"Lots of things, actually. A lot of swimming. We went scuba diving the other day. The house is fantastic," I hated lying to him, but covering my ass was the only thing on my mind.
What the old man didn't know wouldn't kill him.
"And Javier? What is he up to? He's been treating you well? Keeping his distance?"
"Yes, Grandfather. We kind of just do our own thing. He's out on the water fishing right now and I'm just..you know..doing my thing. What about you, though? How is everything-"
"Fae, darling. Don't lie to me."
"What?"
"Don't lie to me. You're a fantastic liar and I think that's such a horrible trait to have. You know you can't lie to me."
"Lie? About what?" Oh god. Oh shit.
"Sweetheart, I know you and Javier aren't just "doing your own thing". Don't think just because I'm old I don't know anything now. Now, is he treating you well dear?"
God bless this man.
I waited for a moment, contemplating on if denying what he was implying or acting completely oblivious
Who the hell was I kidding? I couldn't lie to him.
"Yes..he is. Very well. Maybe a little too well, actually. He's a good guy.."
"He is a very good young man. Just remember, you're still so young. You need to be using this time to find yourself. I don't want you to not know who you are without him. Understood? Now, the only reason I'm not so worried is because you've got your mothers spirit. And by that, I mean you've got quite the opinion and I know you won't let Javier step all over you." I smiled. I missed him, and it hadn't been long at all that I'd been without him.
"I understand. And I won't. I've missed you, old man."
"Oh, I've missed you too honey. How is L.A sweetheart?"
"Oh it's-shit. Are you tracking my phone?"
"Javier is a fine young man, as I said before. He told me days before you even knew. He has my respect. Make sure he knows that respect can be lost, though."
Well fuck. He could've told me that before I went with my pathetic story.
"I must say, sweetheart, I am a little hurt that he told me and you didn't. That my granddaughter-my only granddaughter lied to me."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I just didn't want you to worry and I knew Grandmother would freak out knowing plans had changed and-"
His thunderous old man laugh rang through the phone, and I couldn't help but smile.
"It's alright. Goodness, keeping your mother in line is the reason I've got all these gray hairs on my head, dear. I'm prepared with you, love. I'm always three steps ahead. Now go on and have fun-not too much fun. I love you."
"I love you too Gramps." He hung up, leaving me thinking about how I didn't deserve such an amazing man like him-better yet how lucky I was to have him raise me. He was definitely who kept me sane.
My stomach growled, so I made my way to the kitchen. Looking through the cupboards, I found a gigantic stack of cookbooks and grabbed one.
It was old and torn, but written in the most beautiful handwriting I'd seen.
Encrusted on the bottom was a name that read Abelie Maraz. She must've been Javier's grandmother.
On the inside of the cover, it read: For my dear grandchild, Javier. I first did not know what I could possibly give to you with my parting, but when I came across this, I knew. This is for you child, for it holds what I spent my life doing, the passion that you hold as well. Don't listen to your father, it is a genetic passing.
She was probably Javier's inspiration to his passion for cooking. I could help but find myself wishing I could have met her.
Skimming through the cursive writing, I found a recipe for some pasta-like dish I'd never heard of and could pronounce. I decided to try it.
I plugged my phone in an aux I found and searched through the cupboards for the states ingredients and, not surprisingly, found them all.
Javier was such a foodie.
The evening passed with me dancing and cooking, and I realized that this was the happiest I'd ever been.
I was just going through the motions before; I didn't have someone to think about, someone who I counted down the hours to see.
I was so caught up in my thoughts and music and cooking that I didn't hear the door. The large hands that wrapped around my stomach
just about made me shit myself.
"Jesus, Javier!" He buried his face in my neck.
He was silent, holding me tightly.
"I could come home to this everyday. I want to come home to this everyday." He whispered so softly that I almost didn't hear it.
Before I could answer he blurted, "move in with me."
My heart picked back up. Is he insane?
"Ar-"
"We can buy an apartment in New York. Your grandfather told me that you've been trying for a college there since your Freshman year. We could move there, I could work, you could go to college. Hell, if you want a tiny cottage in the middle of a damn field we could go there-I don't care. But I want you to move in with me. On my way here, I realized that I couldn't imagine going back to your grandparents' house..then I would soon leave. We'd go separate ways. I can't just go back to my old life and you to yours. You know that can't happen, so move in with me." He said it all in one breath, spinning me around and staring at me with so much vigor and determination, it almost made me just want to nod along and believe that the plan was fool proof.
Almost.
"I'm eighteen Javier...I go to college very, very soon. My grandparents-and I- I haven't even...Grandfather would kill me and-" I was trying to come up with anything I could. Whether it was to convince him or myself I didn't know.
"Are these reasons to cover up the fact that you just don't want to? If you don't want to, I understand. I'm not going to pressure you in-"
"No! No..I just..I mean, isn't that fast? And..you know I've got college and you've got work and-"
"Which can be arranged. I know you're only eighteen..I understand if it's too soon. Maybe..maybe you want to see the world on your own for a while? Do the whole find-yourself thing-"
"No! God, Javier that's out of a shitty romantic comedy.I know who I am, I ju-"
"You're scared. I understand. It is soon..but I want you to live with me. Being with you is something I've become so comfortable with that I don't know how I'd go back. I want to br with you all the time. And I know I'm an asshole, and I know it we'll be at each other's throats all of the time and I know we'll fight over stupid shit that doesn't matter, but thats what I want. I've never lived with anyone. I want you to live with me, Fae. Please."
Silence. I wasn't sure what I was afraid of. The commitment? The growing up? The- Javier? The fact that I was in love with him?
"What if it gets..old?" I wasn't quite sure how to explain this, but it was a lingering question always in the back of my mind. I'd always wondered how couples stayed together for so long. Don't you get tired of each other? Of talking about the same thing and eventually having nothing to say at all? Does love die?
"Old? You think life with me will get old? That maybe I won't keep you occupied? Life with me won't be enough?" He looked hurt. So hurt. I hated myself for saying it, but it was just a thing of mine. I didn't understand love. I'd never experienced it, and for it to come on so strong was overwhelming.
"Javier that's not-"
"Think about life with me. Think about that. What do you picture? Because if you picture old and boring and a faded love then tell me no. But what I see is the opposite. You're such a little childish shit that I'll have my hands full all of the time. We'll always have something to talk about, and hell, if we run out of things to talk about I'll be fucking you into oblivion or you and your stubborn little ass will find something to argue with me about. I picture going out with the club members-you seemed to really love them-I picture meeting each other's families and cooking and coming home to you in your underwear in my-our-kitchen. I picture maybe a dog or, who the hell knows, a damn goldfish for all I care. Waking up next to you and going to bed with you. I picture going on job travels just to come home to you to fuck you like I haven't seen you in weeks. Maybe some way-a long, long way-down the road we'll talk about kids, you'll get a job and we'll maybe even find a different or better apartment. Weekend trips and date nights and wine bringing you home little things that reminded me of you. We'll have fights and sex and love and companionship and if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. But Fae, god Fae, I know it will. I'll do everything I can to make this work. You and me."
I blinked through the tears.
"You and me," I whispered, and i realized i liked the sound of that.