Page 33 of The River in Spring
As the door swings open, we are greeted by a striking looking man. It is obviously Dad, because
French artist sensibilities are on full display. Long grey hair untethered, stacked bracelets, and the top three buttons of the chambray shirt are undone, revealing a chest full of hair. I look for the Uggs Nobel said are his staple. I’m kind of disappointed. Tennis shoes have taken their place.
“Bonjour, Dove! Welcome to our home,” arms open wide, he calls me in.
“This is my father, Gaston.”
I can feel Nobel relaxing when he sees his father. The tenderness it speaks to is beautiful.
I step into the embrace. Powerful arms surround me. It feels warm inside this affection. It is somehow familiar, like we have known each other for years. Double cheek kisses are exchanged. What is that wonderful scent?
“Bonjour, Gaston! Thank you for having me.”
“Come here, my son. Give your Papa a hug.”
He pulls Nobel into our circle and he messes his hair like a parent would do to his ten-year-old boy. I’m expecting him to be bothered, but it doesn’t happen.
With a wave forward, Gaston calls, “Come in! The whole family is waiting!”
Walking inside, the smell of roast in the oven and freshly baked cookies hits at once. It makes my mouth water.
“Is that Nobel?” a woman’s voice carries from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Mom. We’re here.”
Nobel puts a hand on my back as we follow Gaston into the great room. Happy and expectant faces look at the arriving delegation. Here goes. The first sight at who may become my own family. That’s how I feel, although speaking it would be a mistake. Not so soon. Over the years I have learned to keep my conclusions to myself. Let everyone arrive at theirs in time without my input.
“Hello! Oh you’re here!” Nobel’s mother says, coming around the island. I see who he favors. Their eyes are alike. In fact all three boys look like their mother. She’s stunning. Wavy, long grey hair and a chic kind of vibe. Not a hippie one like Grandma. More a rich girl on a yacht in the seventies type.
Walking right up to us, she offers a wide smile. “Hello Dove. I’m Aurora. It’s so nice to meet you. Oh, and hello to you too son.” She laughs.
Nobel just smiles his response.
“Happy to be meeting you too, Aurora. I’ll take a hug,” I say without a hint of embarrassment.
She doesn’t hesitate to bring me close. I think we recognize something in each other that goes beyond the norm. My man is her child. The one who belongs to me, belongs to her too. Respect.
“Now Nobel, introduce your girl to the family and to our other guest tonight. This is Velvet,” she says, gesturing to the couch where Van sits next to a woman that may be a stripper. The name and outfit seem to point that way. I notice the unspoken message Aurora sends to Nobel. Her eyes are one millimeter wider. Body language just said a whole bunch.
Van wears a Cheshire grin. Aargon too. When I look at Nobel there is the same expression. The smile DNA. The Lyon boys are going to have a lot to talk about tomorrow.
“Hi, Velvet. This is my girlfriend, Dove.”
I love that he said I’m his girlfriend. It’s the first time. Velvet barely reacts. She sits like a bump on a log. No return greeting. There is a little smile though. Is she sucking on something? Then a bubble appears between candied lips and pops before it gets too big.
I jump in first. “Nice to meet you. I guess you and I are in the same club.”
“Sweet Cheek’s?”
Oh shit. That’s a strip joint in Billing’s. I know because Oscar and ZZ have been there!
Everyone but Velvet realizes the gaffe. But no one points it out or laughs. But Van has trouble keeping a straight face. She’s not sure what other club I might be referring to. Her eyebrows knit together. Van must enjoy exceptionally naive women. Those are the kind he prefers, according to Nobel.
When no one explains the comment to the girl, I do. Maybe she’s nervous like Nobel was.
“I just meant both of us are newbies meeting the Lyon family.”
Her chin lifts in understanding. “Oh.” And then a nod.
