realize that more and more heads seem to be turning toward us. I finally get so uncomfortable that I finish my beer in one last gulp and glance at Aris, silently asking him if we can leave. Proving that I’m right to believe we don’t need words to communicate, he too downs the rest of his beer in one gulp and stands up. He nods at Benedetto, who grins back, and we leave. It’s even darker and colder outside, but I don’t care. I’m simply happy to be alone with Aris once more. I’d like to take his hand, but I don’t. Instead, I leave my hand dangling next to his, and occasionally our hands bump together. That’s perfect too.
“I’d better get home. I’m pretty tired,” I say once we’re in front of his shop.
“I’ll go with you. Would you rather walk or take the truck?”
“I’d rather walk, but that would make you late. It’s already seven,” I reply, realizing only too late that I should shut up. Aris’s lips press together, and his jaw stiffens.
“I have no plans tonight,” he says, his tone more serious than I’ve ever heard, “and I’m not hungry.”
“Okay then. I accept your offer. Thanks,” I say quickly.
We head toward the woods, but this time, our silence is different. It’s full of tension. I hate it, and I have to break it.
“You’re not going to go back and keep working on the desk, right?” I ask.
“Of course not. It can only grow while you’re watching,” he responds, smiling. Finally, I feel the tension melt away. I’m so delighted I want to scream. But instead, I’m quiet, and I continue to walk beside him with a grin that just won’t fade.
When we reach my house, I open the door, but this time I don’t invite him inside. I realize this is the right way to do things, and that’s fine.
“Thanks again. I had fun.”
“Me too,” he says, instead of simply smiling as he usually does. “So I’ll see you tomorrow? At ten?”
“Sure, ten’s fine,” I answer.
“Good night.”
“Night.”
I watch him disappear into the darkness. For a moment, the light from the streetlamp is reflected off his hair.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It’s a little before ten on Sunday morning, and I’m standing in front of the carpenter’s shop. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. The lights in the shop are off. I don’t have the courage to try the door, so I stay outside, hopping in place to keep warm. Aris said to meet him at ten, so I’m sure he’ll show up. I just hope I don’t freeze in the meantime. I turn to face the alley, and there he is, walking toward me, holding a thermos and a bag.
“I hope you haven’t eaten breakfast yet.” He smiles, and the only thing I can do is gaze at him in reply. How do I tell him that ever since I first met him, I’m almost never hungry? I smile, and his face instantly lights up. I hope he thinks it’s because he brought me breakfast.
We enter the shop, and Aris places his loot on the drawing board. There are already two cups, two plates, two spoons, a sugar bowl, a jug of milk, and napkins waiting. He fetches another chair from the back room. We sit at the table, and he pours tea. He puts sugar into one of the cups, milk in both, and then stirs them. Finally, he sets a cup in front of me. How could I possibly have thought that he had forgotten how I take my tea? He jumps up and disappears into the back room, returning with jam and honey. He pulls two croissants out of the bag, stuffing one with jam and spreading a veil of honey on the other, then passes me the one with jam. I can only stare, entranced, as he bites into his croissant. He raises his eyebrows, inviting me to eat. I bite into my croissant and sigh happily. We haven’t said a word to each other since we came in the shop, but we’ve communicated perfectly all the same.
My desk is still here, just as we left it the night before. As promised, Aris hasn’t touched it since then. Two of the drawers are ready, and he begins sanding wood to make the third. He
“I’d better get home. I’m pretty tired,” I say once we’re in front of his shop.
“I’ll go with you. Would you rather walk or take the truck?”
“I’d rather walk, but that would make you late. It’s already seven,” I reply, realizing only too late that I should shut up. Aris’s lips press together, and his jaw stiffens.
“I have no plans tonight,” he says, his tone more serious than I’ve ever heard, “and I’m not hungry.”
“Okay then. I accept your offer. Thanks,” I say quickly.
We head toward the woods, but this time, our silence is different. It’s full of tension. I hate it, and I have to break it.
“You’re not going to go back and keep working on the desk, right?” I ask.
“Of course not. It can only grow while you’re watching,” he responds, smiling. Finally, I feel the tension melt away. I’m so delighted I want to scream. But instead, I’m quiet, and I continue to walk beside him with a grin that just won’t fade.
When we reach my house, I open the door, but this time I don’t invite him inside. I realize this is the right way to do things, and that’s fine.
“Thanks again. I had fun.”
“Me too,” he says, instead of simply smiling as he usually does. “So I’ll see you tomorrow? At ten?”
“Sure, ten’s fine,” I answer.
“Good night.”
“Night.”
I watch him disappear into the darkness. For a moment, the light from the streetlamp is reflected off his hair.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It’s a little before ten on Sunday morning, and I’m standing in front of the carpenter’s shop. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. The lights in the shop are off. I don’t have the courage to try the door, so I stay outside, hopping in place to keep warm. Aris said to meet him at ten, so I’m sure he’ll show up. I just hope I don’t freeze in the meantime. I turn to face the alley, and there he is, walking toward me, holding a thermos and a bag.
“I hope you haven’t eaten breakfast yet.” He smiles, and the only thing I can do is gaze at him in reply. How do I tell him that ever since I first met him, I’m almost never hungry? I smile, and his face instantly lights up. I hope he thinks it’s because he brought me breakfast.
We enter the shop, and Aris places his loot on the drawing board. There are already two cups, two plates, two spoons, a sugar bowl, a jug of milk, and napkins waiting. He fetches another chair from the back room. We sit at the table, and he pours tea. He puts sugar into one of the cups, milk in both, and then stirs them. Finally, he sets a cup in front of me. How could I possibly have thought that he had forgotten how I take my tea? He jumps up and disappears into the back room, returning with jam and honey. He pulls two croissants out of the bag, stuffing one with jam and spreading a veil of honey on the other, then passes me the one with jam. I can only stare, entranced, as he bites into his croissant. He raises his eyebrows, inviting me to eat. I bite into my croissant and sigh happily. We haven’t said a word to each other since we came in the shop, but we’ve communicated perfectly all the same.
My desk is still here, just as we left it the night before. As promised, Aris hasn’t touched it since then. Two of the drawers are ready, and he begins sanding wood to make the third. He
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