It had taken me a couple minutes to convince him that the food at the gyro stand, would not, in any way, kill us.
The evening sun had dipped to a deep red, as the moon lay full over the purple sky- navy clouds overlooking the rich horizon. James and I stood behind a tall, elegant woman, dressed in a grey business suit. Her dreadlocks were tied with a crystal band at the back, as the winds swayed her soft black hair along her curvy waist.
"You gonna order, lady?"
I snapped my head to James, who yawned lazily- a hand covering his mouth. I glared at him, but he merely shrugged, running a hand through the silk of his hair.
"Excuse me?" the woman snapped. "I'm still deciding—"
James scoffed. "There are more people on the line! You've been deciding for the past eight minutes—"
I clenched my hand against the sides of my white dress, prepared to snap at him for his rude behavior, but then stopped when five people behind us, agreed. A middle aged, fine haired man behind James- shook his head, nodding in approval. A woman behind the man- pursed her lips, smiling, as though happy that someone had told off the lady who was apparently taking too much time to order.
"The young man is right," said an elderly woman, standing at the back of the line. "It's been almost ten minutes, dear. We're all hungry—"
"I can't believe this," the dreadlocked woman said. "You're all ridiculous...honestly! Alright well...um...I'd like the chicken over rice with a pinch of white sauce, but only a pinch. And maybe some barbecue over that as well—"
"It's on me," said James.
The woman tilted her chin, a light smile hitting her soft, red lips.
"Really?" she asked.
I frowned. I didn't like the look she was giving him.
James shot her a sly grin, walked around me, and took out a brown leather wallet from his side pocket. His brown bangs tossed in the wind, making him appear almost boyish, as he handed six dollars to the man inside the cart.
My teeth clenched, as I saw him smile at her once more in that charming way of his, grabbing her bag of food from the gyro man, and handing it to her. Her deep brown skin, flushed- her lips parting to a flirtatious smile.
Her long fingers trickled over his knuckles as she took the bag of food from his hand, slinking it over her wrist.
I glared at her wrist.
When she walked away, James quickly made our order, and the people behind us, exhaled a breath of relief, thanking him for getting her to leave. We gave them our goodbye, but as we walked towards a small round table at the farther end of the street, I felt a burning sensation simmer through my chest.
We arrived at the circular metal table, sitting across from each other. I took out the food from the bag, slamming it on the table, breathing hard. Well, I didn't really slam it, but I intended to. Grabbing the fork, I took my plastic box of lamb over rice, opening it. The scent of hot, spicy, rice swirled under my nostrils, as I stabbed my fork within the meat.
"Unbelievable," said James, taking a bite from his box. "She took ten minutes to decide on an order! What a woman. She had nice legs at least—"
"Can we just eat?" I snapped, swallowing my food. "It's been a long day, so we should eat, go home, and then sleep—"
He laughed. "What's up with you? That time of the month?"
I gripped my fork, staring intently at my box of rice- then lifted my eyes slowly to meet his.
"Whoa, enough with the scary eyes," he said. "Relax."
I exhaled a deep breath then smiled, but not a real smile, a forced one- one that took every muscle in me, to curve the two sides of my lips, upwards. A gentle wind blew past us, as the hem of my dress swayed by my ankles, under the metal table.
"I'm fine," I lied. "You...seem to find that woman attractive."
Oh, geez....why did I say that?
Licking my bottom lip, I willed my face to not cringe, but when he grinned, I could no longer hold it. My eyes dropped to my lap, and I groaned, shaking my head at my stupidity.
"You're jealous," he said.
"I've had enough to eat. Let's just go home—"
He laughed, beaming.
"You barely touched your food," he said. "You usually eat a truckload, I thought you'd end up gobbling my share as well—"
"I'm not very hungry," I insisted.
"Because you're jealous." He said this slowly, his eyes gleaming in mirth.
"I'll wait by the car," I said.
My face was boiling, as I got up from the table, not even bothering to close my box of food, for fear that he'd notice my shivering hands. Ignoring his grin, I turned, walking at my usual pace towards the car, so as to appear like I wasn't flustered.
Midway down the street, I stopped before the crossing sign, realizing that I didn't actually know where he'd parked his car. I wanted to get out of the awkward situation so badly, that my brain decided that saying something stupid would be the best way to go.
As I thought about how ridiculous I was reacting to him and that woman, a strong arm slinked over my back, resting on my shoulder. I didn't have to turn to know who that warm hand, and lavender like scent, belonged to.
James's lips met the cave of my ears- a hot rush zooming through my neck, as his hand squeezed my shoulder.
"I think it's cute," he whispered, his lips almost touching my lobe. "You're pretty when you blush. Did you know that?"
I gulped.
I could feel his smile radiate through our one inch proximity- my heart pounding like a band of drums within my chest, as I turned my head slowly towards him.
James took a step back, placing his hands within his pockets, raking his eyes over me. There was an appreciative glint in his scrutiny, and it took me a second to realize what he was doing.
"Are you...are you checking me out?" I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling exposed.
"I am," he replied. "It's not a crime."
The crossing sign changed, as I shook my head, walking through to the other side. He followed, still grinning like the flirtatious Prince he was, while I tried my best to still the rapid beating of my heart. When we got to the other side of the street, I turned towards him, allowing him to lead the way to the car.
"It's creepy," I said. "Staring like that, I mean. It's just...creepy."
He had long strides, and I had to walk twice as fast for my average legs to keep up.
"Creepy?" He laughed once more. "You're a grown woman and you say the word 'creepy'? Interesting—"
"Don't insult my vocabulary!"
He shot me a wink, grinning, as we got to his car at last. The shiny, silver Mercedes glowed under the night sky. He took out the key from his pocket, gripping it within his palms.
"You're a little girl," he said, leaning against the side of the car. "Only little girls would find that creepy—"
"Your ignorant assumptions of my character are completely wrong," I said, rambling. "Any woman would find that creepy."
He stared at me for a moment then dropped his gaze to my shoes, travelling up my dress, leading to my neck, and then stopping, for a second, on my mouth. That familiar hot chill slithered through my spine, but I suppressed the shiver- glaring at him.
"You're doing it again," I snapped. "That creepy staring thing—"
He sighed, tilting his head to the side.
"Must you use that word, Dorothy?" he asked. "You know what? I'm sorry. No, I really am. I apologize."
I smiled. "Thank you."
He chuckled lightly in response, walking around till he reached the driver's side of the car. There was a smirk to his face that told me that whatever I had thanked him for, was a dumb move on my part. As I entered his car, I chewed on my lower lip, hearing the engine rumble. The window was down- the gust blowing my strands to my mouth, as I tucked the hair behind my ears.
"Wait," I said slowly. "What are you sorry...for?"
James's hand rested over the steering wheel, his head turning towards me. His face glowed in amusement, as though inwardly laughing at a secret joke.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "That you're a little girl."
I stared at him, my mind repeating his words, as my mouth opened, then closed. I licked my bottom lip, swallowing a breath- my throat suddenly feeling dry.
"I'm not a little girl," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I'm anything but—"
"You're not?" he challenged. "Then prove it."
I frowned. "I don't have to prove anything to you—"
"So that means you are a little girl—"
"Quit calling me that!"
He smiled. "A bratty little girl as well—"
"I told you I'm not!"
"Then prove it," he pestered. "Prove that you're not."
My hands clenched on the fabric of my lap, as he gave me an expectant stare. The wind howled through the open window, as I watched pedestrians cross the street ahead, enjoying the warm night breeze.
"How do I prove that?" I asked.
He stared at me for a moment, and then laughed, reaching over to the top of my head- ruffling my hair.
"You're too innocent," he said, smiling widely. "Honestly...It's kind of refreshing."
I frowned, feeling a bit disheartened for some reason. The ride home passed with him laughing at my question, as random songs from the radio drowned out his voice. I closed my eyes for the rest of the ride, my lips pursed, and my heart- burning.
When we got out the car, I went to open the door to the back seat, searching for the food we'd bought. It was probably cold by now, and though we didn't yet have a microwave yet, it should be eatable.
"What are you looking for?" James asked, as I opened the door.
"For our food," I replied. "Did you leave it in the trunk or something?"
He walked towards me, circling an arm around my waist- pulling me back. I gasped, as he closed the door, beeping a button on his key, locking it. My waist scorched where he touched it, as I pushed back, standing a foot apart from him.
"I threw it away," he explained.
My eyes bulged. "You did what?"
He shrugged, walking past me, towards our building. I jogged after him, glaring.
"I'd eaten my share," he said "And you just left yours there on the table. I figured you didn't like it—"
"I thought you'd bring it with you!" I snapped. "I can't believe you wasted so much food!"
The moon was an oyster's pearl over the deep blue sky, as James ignored my complaints- opening the door to our building. I walked after him- my shoulders slumped, as I thought about all that food that had been dumped in the trash. If I had known he planned to throw it all away, I would have finished every bite then and there.
While my mind rambled on about the tragedy of the wasted food, my face hit his back, as he stopped walking.
"Who is that?" He asked, sounding worried.
"Who's who?" I walked around him, staring quizzically at his profile.
He glared, cupping my chin, and turning my head towards his area of interest. When I saw who'd caught his attention, I froze.
A middle aged woman, whose bright red hair was a shade deeper than mine, stood with a small black luggage beside our grey, metal door. Her locks rested in two pig tails over her shoulder, as her pink polka dotted summer dress, danced by her knobby knees. She was a curvy lady, whose thin lips widened into a smile, as she rushed towards me, her arms extended outwards.
"Aunt Molly," I smiled. "What a...pleasant surprise—"
"Oh, how I've missed you!" she squealed, embracing me in a tight bear hug. "Look at you. Just look at you! Our little Dory has gotten so fancy in the big city, huh?"
She pulled apart, and I blushed, giving her a warm smile. Her large green eyes turned to James, who stood there, giving her a polite grin. Aunt Molly's expression darkened, as she narrowed her eyes, taking a step towards him.
Oh, no.
Before I could stop her, she curved her fingers around his ear, twisting it. He yelped, jumping up and down, as she dragged him by the ear to the door.
The security guard, who stood behind the front desk of the building, smiled. His name tag read, "Maxwell," and when our gaze met, he gave me a curt nod. I shook my stare, running towards James, who was currently getting his ear torn by a woman twice his age.
"You little rat!" Aunt Molly snapped.
She brought James to his knees, holding both his ears.
"Let go!" James snapped. "I'll call my lawyer—"
"Call your fancy lawyer, why don't you!" she challenged. "But first, say sorry—"
"Aunt, please stop!" I sounded desperate, as I stood behind her, trying to pull her hands off of him.
But the more I pulled her arms, the harder she pulled his ears.
"You stay out of this," she snapped, glaring at me. "You got married! Without telling me, without telling your grandparents, without telling anyone! And it's all his fault! This no good—"
"I love him!" The words left my mouth before I could stop them, as both Aunt and James turned to gape at me.
Her hold on his ear had loosened, as she blinked slowly- taken aback by my outburst. James's brows rose, as I rubbed my hands against my sides, feeling my heart flip.
"He didn't con me, or trick me, or anything," I said, staring pleadingly at her. "I fell in love...with...him. And...it's a long story, so let's just go inside and talk, okay?"
Aunt nodded, letting go of James's ear, but shooting him another cold glare in the process. He exhaled a sigh of relief, standing, and walking towards the door. While he opened the door, he didn't bother to keep it open for her, but before I entered, he held it open.
I mouthed the words, "I'm sorry" to him, for I knew his ears would probably need medical attention, or a good pack of ice. He sighed in response, as I turned, locking the door behind me.
"Well, would you look at this," said Aunt Molly, dragging her luggage through the wooden floor. "There isn't even a stool to sit on! You kids sure have a nice place to live, but without furniture, it's a bit hard to make it a home, isn't it?"
"Um...James ordered the furniture," I explained. "It should be coming any day now—"
"Tomorrow," he said. "It will be here tomorrow. But...I believe we haven't had a proper introduction...Miss?"
Aunt Molly looked around the room, walking towards the window, where the view of the night skyline peaked overhead. She whistled an appreciative tune.
"Sure is a lovely sight," she said.
James's eyes hardened, as he crossed his arms over his chest, annoyance hitting his features. He was probably not used to getting ignored.
"I can explain everything." I broke the awkward silence, walking towards her. "There's a reason why I couldn't tell you or anyone else about this marriage—"
She snorted, turning around, and shooting another icy stare at James.
"I don't want to hear any explanation from you!" she snapped. "I want to hear it from him. Go on. Start with an introduction, and then continue. You do know what a polite introduction is, don't you?"
"I do," replied James. "But apparently, you don't—"
"What did you just say to me, boy?" Aunt Molly's voice rose.
I gave her elbow a slight squeeze, trying to calm her temper. If anyone knew Aunt Molly, they knew that her temper was not to be messed with. There was a rumor in the small town I grew up in, that one day a man made a derogatory remark towards her, and the following day, he'd ended up at the hospital, his legs broken. People said that the man was too embarrassed to reveal that he'd been beaten up by a woman. The man left town a few days later, and never returned. They call her, "The Bull" back home, for she's never one to back out of a fight, no matter how big or small the issue may be.
"He didn't mean it!" I spoke fast- staring wide eyed at James, hoping he would just apologize already.
"I did mean it," James argued. "You don't demand respect. You earn it."
She smiled. "Oh, is that so?"
His eyes narrowed. "It is so."
I stared from her, then to him, feeling the tension thicken, as she took slow steps towards him. He stood his ground, towering over her 5 foot 5 frame, his arms rigid by his side.
"Ahh, so this is what you look like," she said, standing before him. "The newspaper's portrait of you and my niece at that church was a little blurry, to say the least. So, tell me about yourself. Why is a rich man like you, marrying Dorothy? You've got another motive, son?"
If Aunt Molly was anything, she was perceptive. She could look through people instantly, and her sense of judgment had helped me in the past when I'd met artificial friends. When she looked at others, she saw their souls reflect through the glint of their eyes, and in that moment, she'd know whether that person was right or wrong.
It was a strange method, but she was never wrong.
But as I looked at James, his usual happy stare had left, and a blank, unfamiliar gaze, was in its place. I frowned, realizing that for the first time in her life, Aunt Molly had met her match.
"I have no motive. I love your niece, and I'll always love her. Whether you believe me, is up to you." His lie was so convincing- that for a moment, even I believed him. "We went through the normal dating stages, like any other couple, but see, there was just one problem—"
"And what problem is that?" Aunt asked.
He hesitated. "My family would never accept her. As great as she is, as smart, and kind, and sweet as she is...my family would never accept her. You're probably not aware, but I get the paparazzi on my back sometimes when I'm out, so we had to date in secret. Our marriage was rushed, but only because we had no other option. Believe me, Dorothy wanted to tell you all, but I made her promise not to—"
"You promised her not to?" Aunt's voice cut through his, as she crossed her arms over her chest.
She turned her head to me, but I quickly diverted my gaze, afraid that she would figure out our lie just by a glance into my eyes.
"Yes," James continued. "I promised her not to tell, because if she did, then your town would find out, and someone might snitch the truth to the media, and I could not risk that. So, we got married. We wanted to tell you and the rest of her family the situation, and were planning to very soon. Next week, actually—"
"Really?" she asked. "Hmm...that's perfect, then."
"Are you talking about the Carnival of Lights?" I asked, placing a hand at my neck.
She nodded. "That's correct!—"
"What is that?" James asked.
Aunt Molly exhaled a deep sigh, shaking her head at him.
"Dorothy didn't tell you anything about where she's from?—"
"I did!" I said. "He just forgot. He has an awful memory"
She stared at me- her eyes peering in a way that she could tell I was lying- but thankfully, she didn't question it.
"Alright," she said. "Well, the whole town will be expecting you two next week. I believe you'll fill him in on the details, won't you dear?"
I nodded. "I will. But, you didn't have to come all the way here. I feel like we've troubled you—"
She slapped my arm, chuckling.
"Nonsense!" she said. "I haven't been to the big city in years, so dealing with you two, was a good excuse to drop by. But I'll say one thing...New York City hasn't changed one bit. Well...you two gonna just stand there like nincompoop's or get me a cab to my hotel? Paying for that place was a fortune, I tell you!"
James and I glanced at each other, and then, at her. She gave us an expectant stare- then shook her head, annoyed. I sighed, leading her to the door, as she swung her arms around me once more, in a tight embrace. I hugged back, smiling, for as crazy as she was, I did miss her a whole lot.
"I expect to see furniture tomorrow," she snapped, glaring at James. "A grown man living in a furniture-less home! And you call yourself a man?"
"I didn't know that having furniture equates to manliness," he said. "We learn something new every day—"
"Why you little!" Aunt Molly would have ran towards him then, ripping out his ears for good had I not held her back, my hand gripped over her arm.
"He has a weird sense of humor," I explained. "Don't let his stupid jokes get to you. If you need anything, anything at all, just give me a call. I'll show you around the city for as long as you're here. I promise—"
"I'm not senile, Dorothy!" she snapped. "I've lived here longer than you! Now, just remember to prepare him for the Carnival next week. I don't want the new addition to our family, to look like a fool. Then again, he already looks like a blundering fool, so that can't exactly be helped—"
"Goodnight!" James said, forcing a false smile.
I gave him an impatience glance, shaking my head at him. But when my eyes turned to Aunt Molly, I was surprised that she smiled a genuine smile at him.
"I think I like him," she said.
"I missed you," I told her. "Aunt Molly...I'm really sorry—"
She waved a hand before my face, dismissing my apology.
"Now, don't be a silly little thing," she said. "Apologies are for strangers. And you never have to miss me, you fool. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Why, I'm younger than a daffodil on spring's first day."
I smiled. "That you are."
When Aunt Molly left, James stomped towards the room, already changed in cotton white shorts, and a black t-shirt.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
He huffed out a deep breath.
"Yeah, a lot of things are wrong!" he snapped. "Firstly, that woman is insane. Secondly, she belongs in an institution, not in civilized society. Thirdly, we aren't going to that carnival!"
I rolled my eyes, walking past him.
"You're being a child," I said. "We have to go—"
His hand gripped my elbow, as he spun me around so that I was facing him. I yanked my arm out of his touch, glaring at him.
"We aren't going," he repeated. "I don't do carnivals, and if your Aunt is this crazy, then the rest of your family is probably worse!"
"She isn't crazy!" I snapped. "She's just over protective, that's all—"
"Over protective? She almost dismembered my ears," he said, massaging his right lobe.
"I'm sorry she did that," I reasoned. "But...if you care about me at all, then we'll go. I mean, I met your family, and they weren't all exactly kind to me. But did I complain? Besides, my family needs to meet you too...it's only fair—"
He scoffed, taking swift steps towards me. There was a glint of challenge in his gaze, as his golden brown eyes, hardened.
"I don't believe in fair," he said. "And what the hell gave you the impression that I care about you?"
With those final words, he said goodnight, not concerned that my heart sank, just a bit.