Page 21 of The Leaves In Autumn
He rises and the two men come together in a bear hug.
“Isn’t it wonderful news?” Gaston calls above the noise. “Magnifique! We are thrilled to welcome a new petite Lyon!”
He takes David’s hand and squeezes. Both boys have become accustomed to the man’s deep emotional range. He is sort of every kid’s cool grandfather. If he gets the impulse to hug or kiss you, it is going to happen. When Aurora lays her head on his shoulder, he kisses it.
The room is electric. Some who just got the news rise from the table and gather around the couple. Even the grandparents are getting their due. Aurora is accepting cheek kisses and Gaston’s blue eyes are teary with emotion. He pulls on his beard for distraction.
Turning my head, I see Aargon still in his chair at the end of the table, watching. Me. Or Michael and me. Can’t tell. His eyes move away slowly, when he knows I have seen him looking. Am I reading this right? He is sending some sort of message. Is he pissed? We didn’t talk these last few days. I had no opportunity to tell him I was bringing a date. Didn’t think it was a big deal. It isn’t. All the other singles have. Except for him. He’s not my father. But by his expression, I may have been wrong to assume he didn’t care. What the hell?
An elbow pokes me. Scarlett leans in.
“What’s the quiet man pissed at?”
Why plead ignorance. I whisper.
“Who knows. Don’t think he likes my date.”
“Don’t think he likes that there is one at all.”
Our eyes meet and a moment passes between us. We both know exactly what she means, but I will deny.
“It isn’t like that with us.”
She cocks her head to the left in a denial of my statement and smiles. It is left there. At least I try.
“Would you like another?”
Michael’s voice is pleasant. Deep and smooth. Good on paper. That’s about the worst thing a person can say. The lists on paper rarely include the word passion. And if you are making a list in the first place, you are not into him.
“Please. Love this champagne. It’s my favorite.”
As he fills my flute, there is no follow up to my declaration of fidelity to Dom Perignon. No,I like it too,or,Then we’ll have to make it our thing. Nada. Crap. This is the second strike. I gave him another go because the man is a good kisser. But that doesn’t make up for the other twenty-three and a half hours in the day. I do not want to be responsible for every topic of conversation.
I need to feel that intellectual spark that is inextinguishable between Aargon and I. Only with an undeniable attraction flowing both ways. And a feeling that we can’t keep our hands off each other. One more up at bat and Michael’s out of the game. The wedding will be it. He accepted the invitation, and I will make the best effort. Because very soon I won’t want him to play with me at all. Verbally or otherwise.
My bladder feels two and a half glasses of champagne, and one tall water, pressing their point.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
He nods and smiles and I want to shove my palm into his face. Thankfully, Parrish saves him from violence and starts a conversation. Good luck, my friend. It’s going to be all on you.
It is a narrow space between chairs and the back wall. I squeeze myself forward, toward Aargon and the hall leading to the restroom. He sees me coming. Good thing every other person is distracted by the news and the food that is starting to be delivered.
When I get behind Tyler’s chair, Aargon’s eyebrows raise. What is he doing? It makes me want to smile though. Instead, I chew on my bottom lip. I don’t even know whatIam doing. So I pause at his seat.
“What are you up to? What’s that look for? And don’t say nothing.”
“Wasn’t going to.”
He crooks a finger, calling me closer. I follow the instruction and the clean scent of him proceeds his words. I am inches from his mouth. Lord. He whispers in my ear.
“What are you doing with him?”
It isn’t sarcastic. Not at all. But I don’t answer. Instead, I stand straight and meet his gaze. He makes no excuses for the question but continues to stare. Is this for real? I could be reading too much into an innocent question. The server approaches and I move on, making room for her to pass. I can’t help myself. I look back one time. Those beautiful blues are still on me.
The women’s restroom is a welcome retreat. I give a half-assed smile to the woman washing her hands. She returns the same bathroom etiquette and walks out. Closing the stall door behind me, I cover the toilet seat with the thin paper. Lifting my skirt, I drop the panties and take a seat on the throne. Time to contemplate the state of my affairs. What is happening between Aargon and I? Is it real attraction or the natural result of enjoying so much time together?
We do blend well. But don’t ignore the facts. The entire friendship would be on the line. If I lost him as a friend, I’d lose more than a golf partner. It is a risk to seriously consider. And what about if it didn’t work? Then not only would I be without his company, but all future holidays and parties and family meals would take on an uncomfortable juju. I know him. He would stay away from things more than he does now. No. I will not let that happen. Not to him and not to the family.
