Page 28 of Why Cheese?
On the other side is a kitchen in the loosest sense of the term. There’s a tiny fridge next to the counters, a toaster oven on top, and a hot plate by the sink. Its cord is frayed and would probably start a fire if plugged in.
“This is…something,” I say and keep my hands tight to my stomach. Too many nights I spent reading about the hantavirus haunt me. Looking at the floor would be a huge mistake so my head remains level as Roq steps in and closes the door.
“Nothing’s changed.” He reaches over to turn the spigot on the sink. A monstrous gurgle burps from deep in the pipes, then pilsner-colored water belches out. “Not a thing,” Roq declares and shuts it off.
I fight off a shiver as he moves around the room like he’s been here a lot. “You must have spent quite a lot of time with my uncle.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you just pulled out a coffee filter without even looking.” I point to his hand wedged into a cabinet. Roq opens his fingers, casting the white paper free. Nervously, he wipes his hand on his pants and stands up.
“Were you two…um?” The extent of what I knew about my uncle was what people would share with a five-year-old. If someone had told me he rode a horse to work, I’d have believed it, and at the funeral might have asked if the horse was all right. I knew he never married and that was about it. Being in love with a man who turned into cheese was probably not something to mention in the family Christmas letter.
Roq’s stone face cracks, the dimple in his chin deepening as he stares at me. “What?” His eyes flare wide and he shakes his head back. “No. Nothing like… I would share reports after the night but before the dawn. Keep him up to speed on the state of the shop. Nothing more.”
“Oh…” I’m not disappointed to find out he wasn’t madly in love with my uncle. I just thought for a second I found a piece of a man I wish I knew better.
He bows his head and takes a deep breath. “Mateo is a…was a private man. He seemed to make his life about the shop and had little time for others in it.”
“Is that why you made a deal with him?” I ask. “Because you both love cheese.”
Roq’s frown drops to his jaw. “It was a deal of convenience for both of us. I’d thought that… Well, I was proved wrong. Again. The universe does enjoy making a fool out of me.”
A sadness weeps to the surface. It drowns in his words even as his face remains hard stone. Pity dampens my fear and I reach a hand out toward him.
“Well.” Roq snaps up, his voice at its usual sneering level. That moment of vulnerability vanished so fast, I fear I made it up. “This is the room. You can sleep here if you like. No one will bother you.”
Nodding, I take in all of the tiny apartment.Where’s the…?I tug back a curtain to find a dry toilet bowl and a shower head screwed into the wall. “It’s…lovely. I’ll, um, have to get my things and move in. Maybe after a good disinfecting. Buy some sheets. Drag a power washer up to the roof and hose it all down.”
With his hands bundled behind his back, Roq stands taller. “I will leave you to it then.” He moves to push open the door but stops. Resting above the doorframe is the same picture I dropped the first night in the store. Only, instead of them all posing around my uncle, it’s just the four men holding hands and smiling ear to ear.
“Does it hurt?” I ask.
Roq jerks as if waking from a dream. He peers back at me with a question.
“Becoming cheese? Or human? Does it hurt?”
“No. It…it’s moving from a state of existing, knowing, feeling, breathing, to nothing. No thought, no touch, no sound, no smell, no taste. I imagine it’s quite a lot like dying only without the pain.”
“Oh,” I whisper. “So you don’t need Tylenol or anything?”
Roq chuckles and shakes his head. The always slicked-back locks break from their gel. A single tendril dips across his forehead and dances just above his eye. “No, mademoiselle. We don’t, but thank you for the offer.” His daydream eyes sharpen to an amber fire and he stares right at my chest. “That won’t do. Take your shirt off.”
I giggle and nervously cross my arms under my breasts as if that will help. Did he bring me up here because he’s secretly wanted me this whole time? My face is on fire and I stir my toe on the floor. “Um…”
“You’re going to contaminate the cheese if you wear that.”
Right. Stupid. Of course, he’s worried about the cheese. Wait? I can ruin the cheese?
He points to both my tits and the huge milk stain. Then Roq—the overbearing, stoic, stodgy man—grabs the back of his shirt and yanks it over his head. All of his hair falls onto his face. His eyes gleam between the blue locks. “Put this on instead.”
Wow.Roq is tan for a man who never sees the sun, but what catches my breath are the veins pulsing and quivering across his fridge-sized chest. They’re such a deep blue they look more like tattoos of an old map weaving down his body. He doesn’t have defined abs, and he doesn’t need them. His body is pure muscle from shoulder to solid waist. My eyes start to trace one of the blue veins from his hip on a wandering trail under his pants. I gulp and stop before I look at his bulge. If he’s hard, I’ll die on the spot.
“Ah.” I accept his shirt and peer down at my chest. “Can you…? Um…?”
“Oh.” He blushes, his icy cheeks turning strawberry pink. With a hard jerk, Roq spins around to face the wall. I do the same, turning my back to him as I pull off my sticky, milk-drenched blouse.
My décolletage looks like the bottom of a cereal bowl. I stare at the sink, then I remember the color of the water. That would only make things worse. Using my palm, I try to wipe away the milk as best as I can.
