"I've no fucking idea why you're giving that guy so much of attention," David freaked out at the canteen on Monday morning. "Why are you getting so excited?" Arianne smiled out, "what attention have I given him? We met at the party and we were supposed to have a date on Saturday but I couldn't go and he was generous and caring enough to look after me when I felt sick. If I've given him any attention at all, then he deserves it."
That evening, as The Caketeers, the cake-shop Arianne worked part-timely at, was on the verge of calling it a day, Mrs Jess Armstrong, a regular visitor walked in. "Jess," Arianne called out from behind the counter, "it's eight already, you're late. We were about to pack up."
"Oh, darling," Jess took a seat near the counter and called her favorite girl from the shop, "I'm sure you have my chocolate chip mousse for me, Arianne. I told you I'd come today." "Yes, I have," the younger girl placed a tray on her table, smiling. "My son is going to come too," she replied, "I'll wait for him, okay. Thanks Arianne, for keeping this for me." "Oh, your son will come?" Mrs Fitzgerald, the owner of the shop exclaimed, "for the first time, Mrs Jess! We'll give him a treat then, can we Arianne?"
Just as she said it, the front door of the cake shop opened with the lucky charm bell tinkling melodiously and in came Mrs. Jess' son.
"Ira?" Arianne wiped her hand on her apron and called out as she saw the known face. He looked up and smiled broadly, not having expected her there, "hello."
"You two know each other?" Jess asked, surprised. "Yes," Ira proceeded towards his mother's table and put his messenger bag down, "Arianne is Theresa's roommate at WSU. We met at the party Theresa threw two Saturdays ago." "Oh, how nice," she smiled at the two of them.
As he took a seat and Arianne returned to her place behind the counter, Mrs Fitzgerald asked her about the treat they were supposed to give to Ira. As she talked to her boss, she constantly kept looking back at the only occupied table at the shop. She had not expected him to turn up at her work place, not this way. And, what more! She knew her mother since so long, they were almost buddies now. She knew her favorite pastries, what she loved to prepare on Sundays, how much less cheese she put in the lasagna for her husband, how much proud she was of her son who had gone to Boston for an MBA. Oh! She slapped her own forehead while talking to the old lady, surprising her suddenly.
She was amazed at how really round the world was. She knew the mother, and met the son almost a year later, of whom she had been hearing for so long, without knowing his name. She was not listening at all to her boss and was constantly thinking of Ira and the mysterious way they came across each other. No, it was not mysterious at all. They met at a party. What's so mysterious about that? But, their interactions after that day felt amazing to her, as she thought of them while Mrs Fitzgerald spoke.
The decision of the date, her preparation for the date and yet the ruination of it, his arrival when she was sick and needed someone, the ostentation of his care for her. Being a lover of literature, everything to her seemed like a contrived novel. But, was anything ever going to happen beyond this? She had no clue.
"Take this," her boss gave her another tray and sent her to the tenanted table. "Here, Ira," she placed the 'Caketeers-special milk chocolate muffins' before Ira and as she turned to return to her place, Jess stopped her. "Arianne, sit with Ira for a while," she said, standing up, "I'll just pay for my mousse." "But, you're not yet done with it," she pointed at the glass vessel. "Yes, I know," she picked it up and letting Arianne sit, left.
"Hi," she said to Ira, keeping the tray on the table. "You never told me you work at a cake shop," he complained. "It never came up," she giggled, "plus, there's always something left to say, isn't it? You can't finish saying everything in two meetings." "True that," he said, nipping at the muffin, "yum...this is great." "See why your Mom loves us." "You baked this?" "Yes, everyone of us does. Not just me. There are two boys and three other girls. Now, everyone's gone though. Even I'd be going after a while."
"Can I drop you till college?" he asked. She looked out and said, "I brought my car. It's a little long way for walking." "That's true," he said and concentrated back on his muffin.
Jess suddenly came back and putting her hand on Arianne's shoulder, said, "Arianne, why don't you have dinner with us tonight? Ira can drop you back to college afterwards, I guess."
Ira looked up at his mother and she winked back. She knew what she was doing and he knew why she was doing that. "Oh, I'd love to," Arianne said, "but, I don't know if it can happen today. Maybe tomorrow." "Then, tomorrow dinner, okay?" Jess asked, "Ira would pick you up from college, won't you Ira?" "Okay," he said and hid his embarrassment by finishing the muffin.
"When will you pick me up?" Arianne asked Ira as she got in behind the steering wheel of her Beetle. "Seven," he said, pushing the door close as she sat, "good night." "Good night, Ira," she said and drove off. "She's very pretty, isn't she?" Mrs Armstrong teased her son as she saw him watching the car disappear in anguish.
"It's such a big house," Arianne exclaimed as Ira pulled the car in, in front of his parents' house, "you bought them this?" "Yes," he smiled. "Of course," she smiled back as he parked the car with his extreme driving skills, "taking into consideration your skills both in service and business." "Okay, we're done with that conversation," he said and got out of the car, making her follow up.
When Jess had told her husband that their son was bringing a girl home, he was out of the world. "Ira's bringing a girl home?" he had exclaimed, "where did they meet? How did they meet? When did they meet?"
"They said they..." he didn't even let her finish saying and started answering his questions himself, "did they meet at Theresa's party? Two Saturdays ago?" "That's what they said," she replied, trying to calm him down but he didn't. He kept getting excited as the time neared their arrival.
He was the first one to open the door, "hello. Good evening Miss Arianne. Oh, look at her, Jess. She's so beautiful." "Dad," Ira tried controlling his father, "stop acting like Mom."
"This is Ira's room, when he stays with us," Jess was taking her around, showing her the rooms which, according to Ira was unnecessary. "Oh," Arianne went in, following Jess and Ira followed close behind. What fell into her sight right when she entered the room was a huge canvas beside the bed and on it a carbon painting of the back side of a lean woman. "You drew this?" she gasped, turning to Ira.
He nodded and she moved towards the canvas, as Jess told her how many awards he had won as a child for his paintings. "This is beautiful," she said, touching the black on the drawing. "Is it inspired by a real woman?" she asked. "I don't know," he replied, "I must have seen someone, either in front of me or somewhere, maybe."
"The drawing was incredible," Arianne kept praising him as they were sent to the terrace, as, according to his parents, an after-dinner walk is compulsory. "Thank you," he replied, as they kept walking around the terrace.
"You've got lovely parents, Ira. Your childhood must have been wonderful. I'm jealous of you."
"Why? Did you not have a lovely childhood?"
"I did." She sighed.
"What? You don't seem satisfied with your own answer."
"I don't?"
"No." He stopped her at a corner and she rested her arms on the wall, thinking of something to switch the conversation.
"Tell me," he pepped her, "you can tell me, you know."
"Where do I start from?" she played with the sleeve of her dress, not looking him in the eye at all. She knew the situation they were in, along with the weather around being humid from the rain in the afternoon, and the glass of wine she had at dinner and Ira himself would make her say everything.
"Wherever you want," he said softly, trying to mould himself into her melancholy. Yes, he had been wanting this to happen! He wanted to know her, he wanted her to open her heart out to him, tell him her secrets - what senesced her beyond her age, what added to her beauty.
"I don't know," she started, still looking away from him, "it's just that I'm a bit jealous of people who have been raised by both of their loving parents together. Not that I had lost a parent, just that I barely saw my parents together. Mamma loved me, and Dad loved me as well. But, not together. I never saw them telling each other they love each other, never held hands, never kissed, only fought.
"Fought and fought and fought until they divorced. Initially, I could not even guess it was a divorce. Unless, a friend's mother was talking to my mother and she suggested her to think of a remarriage. I was stunned to death. I cried and cried and cried cause I always knew and I was always told that people mate for life. That when two people take vows, they keep them. With my parents divorcing and my hope of a beautiful life shattering to pieces, I had no idea what to do. What to seek solace in. That was when I came close to Father Lewis of the Catholic Church near our house. If I had not met him and he had not bestowed upon me the holy rays of heaven, of Jesus, I'd have been forever pessimistic."
"You're religious?"
"Very. I read psalms from the Bible every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep. It gives me hope."
Her eyes watered as she kept telling him incidents from her childhood and adolescence. He drew it all in, aborbing the insight she gave him of her. He did not want to lose the one chance he got.
"Do you smoke?" she asked him, rubbing traces of her teardrops from her cheeks. He took some time before answering, "yes, I do."
"You know what it did to Dad?"
"What?"
"It almost took my Dad away. When I was 17 years old, and I was preparing for my finals from school, a call came one day at Mamma's phone. She had started talking normally. It was a relative, a distant uncle and she had started telling him that she was mad at him for not having called so many days. And, I was sitting in the same room. And, the sudden change of her expressions from jolly to...to...I don't know what it was...terror, maybe.
"She was crying when she put the phone down. It took a lot of convincing and time before she finally said that Dad had a heart attack. He was alone in San Francisco and we had no way of contacting him. If his office colleagues had not helped, he'd have probably left us."
He put his hand around her at once, as her voice choked from all the crying. "You don't have to say anymore," he tried stopping her but she kept going.
"No, listen to me. It was hard and it was almost the end of the month. Mamma had no liquid money at hand that she could utilize. She still arranged for a ticket, loaned $15,000 and flew to Dad at once. The doctors there said that his condition was so critical they could not guarantee anything at all. It was the toughest time of our lives. I prayed day and night, day and night and a day later, they announced that he was going to be fine with a pacemaker in his heart to keep his heart beating."
"Why did it happen?"
"Because he was a chain smoker. The pulmonary artery had blocked with clots of tar and there was immense smoke in that area. He was even smoking when his chest pain started," she sobbed, "if Father Lewis had not arranged to bring him back to Miami and had not interrogated on why he did not care about his family and me like he did, I don't think he'd have ever left smoking. Dad loved me, I know. Maybe, he did not understand the perils of smoking before. But, I've told you," she looked at him, "are you still going to smoke?"
He looked at her baffled, not knowing what to say. Something to appease her, or something realistic?
"Are you?" she asked again.
"Arianne, it's not that easy as you think it is."
"Why not? Just imagine a situation, Ira. Something so terrible has happened to you and you're being taken to the hospital. Your parents are running after the doctor. Your loved ones are crying. And, you're about to...about...I can't even say it. Don't you care?"
"Of course I do," his forehead wrinkled, seeing the stark fear and worry and care etch her pretty features.
"Then, why can't you give something like that up? Something that will fetch you away from your family and people you love and care for. Why not, Ira?"
"I'll try."
"Try? Only try?"
"I told you it's not that easy. But, I promise you I'll try."
"Mom, Dad" Ira called them as they walked downstairs, "Arianne needs to leave. I'll just drop her at the campus." "Oh," Adam came towards them, still behaving like a lunatic, "I'm so glad you came, Arianne. Ira, drop her safe, make sure she went back to the sorority safe and come back." "Dad," he rolled his eyes and they walked out, Arainne bidding them for the night.
It was a long way from the Armstrongs' to the WSU campus, and as Ira drove through the city, Arianne started dozing off, sitting beside him. She tried hard to stay awake but her eyes were exhausted from the crying and she knew that if she slept, when she'd wake, her eyes would all swell up. "Talk to me," she asked him, suppressing a yawn, as the car stopped at a traffic signal.
"Sleep if you have to. I'm fine with it. Your eyes have become small and are red."
"No, I've to stay awake. Talk to me."
"I'm driving as well."
"Oh Jesus! Okay, tell me, why haven't you ever been to Miami?"
"I told you, I never got a chance."
"But, Jess and Adam said that they'd gone to Miami. Why didn't you go with them?"
"I didn't want to. I had a choice."
"Wow! When was it that they went and you stayed back?"
"When I was 15."
"Wow! You were so free all your life."
"Were you not?"
"No, never. Mamma always had to put me down. She'd restricted me from every side and I was like a caged animal, I was so vulnerable at that time, when I just turned 13. True, I was always the quiet one, but a small stimulation could bring a sudden change in me and I was all ready to ricochet at anybody. Maybe, if I was more liberated and exposed to situations that I was supposed to face alone, I wouldn't have turned that way."
"But, you seem very quiet still and, I mean, not really the one to pounce back. You seem very shy and folded up inside."
"I am. Now. After I met Father Lewis, and getting to read the Bible and understanding the lessons was very useful for me. I had learned not to give way to every emotion."
"Then?"
"Then what? All my life I'd lived like a bird, caged, waiting to levitate, find my part of the blue sky. Every time I spent a bit more time on the beach with my friends, or I came home late after school or work, she'd go all nuts over me and scream for not having listened to her where there was no fault of mine at all. I know she cared a lot for me. But, it was too much to take. All I was waiting for was the scholarship and the admission to a distant college."
"But, you said you love the beach. You loved Miami."
"Yes, of course I do. But, more than that, I love my freedom. I wanted to be somewhere nearer to Miami though. I never thought of coming to Seattle. But, among the colleges that accepted to take me, WSU gave the most scholarship, 50% of the total pay. I could not lose this."
"Thank God you decided to come here," he said, stopping again at another traffic stop.
She looked back at him, surprised that he said that and smiled at him. She nodded, said, "I will," and touched his hand that rested on the gear stick.
He smiled back and when the car had to start again, he drove with one hand.
"I was always a free bird," he started to say, "but there are limitations to being free as well. It's not greener this side. When you're free, you know your own limit of control. You know the perils there are, Arianne, and you know how to tackle with them, all true. But, when you're in deep shit, you know there's noone out there for you. Noone at all. Not a friend, neither a parent when you look back.
"I was always on my terms. Did what I wanted, had what I liked, hung out with people I loved. But, I was an idiot. I fell into trouble like...all the time. I trusted wrong people, did stuff harmful for me. I had nobody to show me the right way. Not that my parents didn't care. But they didn't know what I was doing. Like your parents did not know you because you confined yourself more than they confined you within limits, my parents did not know me because I had given myself more freedom than my parents had to me."
"You mean to say we're opposite poles?" she asked as he drew his hand away when a bend came.
"Maybe," he returned his hand to touch hers again, "but does that mean we cannot be friends?"
"We are friends already."
As he looked back and kept looking for a while, she laughed out and turned his head back to look in front.
As they drew up in front of the campus, Ira pointed through the windshield at a man standing a bit further away. "That's Dawson," he said, "he wanted to meet you. I tried asking him not to come, but he didn't listen." "Oh, call him," she said, smiling.
"Hello, Miss Daveson," Dawson looked through the window, "well, Ira, you've done absolute injustice. She's way more beautiful than you could express she is." Arianne laughed out awkwardly and said, "but, he did justice to you. He told me you're the real cool dude kind."
Entering the campus was a longer process than it was in the day. Arianne had to show her identity card to prove that she was a student at WSU and Ira had to sign at the record book and also provide his fingerprints for record. As Dawson waited outside, he went into the campus to check on Arianne.
"Well, I remember," she started as they walked leisurely through the huge college grounds. "Remember what?" he asked, taking her hand in his as they walked.
She smiled and said, "that I was supposed to ask you why you stayed back on Saturday even after you knew that the date was ruined."
"Oh crap!"
"Tell me."
"What is there to say? I stayed because I wanted to."
"Is that the only reason?"
"Why don't you think so?"
"Because, I've this great ability of knowing when someone is lying to my face. And, you are now."
"Oh God!"
"Tell me, c'mon Ira."
"Okay, look at me," he turned her towards him as they reached the sorority porch. She turned towards him and looked him in the eye.
"I really like you," he said, holding her by the shoulder.
"Like me like what?" she asked, looking straight into his eyes in the search of truth in his words. It was both on the surface and underneath. There was no need of looking for it. There was sheer truth in every word he spoke, every way he spoke it.
"Not like a sister of course. When I first saw you at the party, it was superficial maybe. Just how you looked. But, knowing you afterwards and within the short time we've known each other, I'd say the affection is sweet and the kind that happens before something even sweeter and stronger happens. Are you listening to me?"
Arianne had looked away. There was noone on the campus. The rooms at the sorority houses and other lodgings were lit and everyone was either studying or were just in there. And, she was out into the night, with a man she recently met and grown affectionate of within a few days, with him telling her how much he liked her. It was insane, she thought. Nothing like this has ever happened to her before. Noone told her if they liked her, or she meant something to them.
"Arianne, you're beautiful. Very beautiful. You inspire art in me. You told me to give up smoking in a way nobody has done. Nobody has ever said anything to me at all. Except for you. Yes, we're different. But that doesn't mean we cannot be. Does it?"
Arianne still did not know what to say. She had never faced such a situation where she both liked the person in front of her, yet she knew she was not ready to go ahead with him right then.
"No, it doesn't. But, Ira, I don't know how much of myself I can give to you now. I somehow know that I'm not ready. Please, Ira, you understand, don't you?"
Ira pulled his hands away and stood at a distance from her. "We're friends, aren't we?" she asked again, sweetly.
"Should I wait, expecting that you may change your mind?"
She gasped. "I don't know. If you can, then do. But, if you find someone who is willing to give herself to you, don't look back at me. That person may keep you happier."
"Okay," he said, feeling his heart breaking yet the feeling of that seemed beautiful to him.
Arianne walked to the door and rang the bell. "Good night, Ira," she said, as he started walking in the opposite direction, "let me know about the tickets, okay?"
That night, when he got into his room at his parents' house, he attached a page on the canvas, over the carbon painting and started drawing. What came out was a portrait of a beautiful girl.
Yes! He had finally seen her from so close he could draw her effortlessly. As he gazed at the picture for a while, he told himself something. That no matter where Arianne will be or who she'll be with, this picture would always be with him. And, through the portrait, she'd also be with him.
Her portrait! Their bond!