- 16 -
Touch
Mary had one white dress that some relative had given to her a couple years ago. It didn't have a tag or a gift receipt, so she couldn't return it and get something she would actually wear. She almost gave it to charity, but Mom had suggested holding onto it for any rare or random special occasions that might occur. So, Mary kept it, but she never wore it until now.
But she didn't have anything remotely fancy in the footwear department. Mom had a few pairs of nice shoes, so she raided her closet. Mary must've tried on at least a dozen things, but anything with heels or straps hurt her feet. She finally settled with a pair of slouchy boots. It wasn't technically winter anymore, but they were comfortable. She didn't bother with hair and makeup. Mary's hair had only one option: straight. And while she had a pretty steady hand with a paintbrush, a mascara wand didn't work the same way.
The door buzzer rang at seven on the dot. Mary started to leave, but a glance in the mirror showed that the dress didn't cover her scar. Quickly, she looked around in Mom's closet again and grabbed a gauzy scarf to wrap around her neck. She also grabbed one of Mom's purses and put her wallet and keys in it, along with the blood testing kit. Finally, she picked up Carter's sweater from her room before hurrying downstairs. Outside, she found Carter talking to Bruce.
Talking to Bruce?
Mary had never seen Bruce talk to anyone. But there he was, holding a conversation like a normal human being. It was rather mind-boggling. Not to mention, she had to think for a moment to realize that that was Carter. He wore a black suit, making him look like a younger and cooler version of James Bond. Mary suddenly felt severely underdressed.
Carter looked up and smiled. "Good evening."
Mary blushed. "Um, hi. Was I supposed to dress up, too?"
He shook his head. "First date. I wanted to make a good impression."
He succeeded, that's for sure.
"Shall we?" he asked.
"You kid have good time," Bruce said. Then he did something else Mary had never seen before. He smiled and waved to them.
Mary followed Carter down the sidewalk. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"You talked to Bruce," she said. "Bruce doesn't talk. Except to cuss people out in a language they can't understand."
Carter shrugged. "He was fixing the front step when I arrived. While I was waiting, I asked him how he was, and we just started talking. His name isn't really Bruce. Did you know that? It's Bourey. But he's a big Bruce Lee fan. So, when he came to America, he started telling people to call him Bruce. He has a daughter named Chavy."
"He has kids?" Mary asked. She thought he was too mean to reproduce.
"Just one," Carter said. "He said she's still in Cambodia with her mom. He's trying to save enough money so that they can come live with him here. He said Chavy means 'little angel.' She sounds like a nice person."
Mary stared at him.
"What?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing. Well, it's just that all this time, he's worked in our building and I never knew anything about him. But he told you all that just now."
"He probably saw me waiting and just wanted to talk," Carter said.
Mary didn't say anything for a moment. Then, she remembered his sweater hanging on her arm. "I forgot to give this back the other night."
"Thank you," he said. "I hope you don't mind walking a little. I had to park a bit far away."
"I don't mind," she said. "You got a new car?"
He shook his head. "I borrowed one for the evening."
They turned the corner, and Mary stopped when she saw it. It wasn't a car. With a sleek body gleaming like fresh black paint and pleasant lines, it was like a piece of art on four wheels. Cars were not uncommon on the streets around her apartment. But cars like this definitely were.
"What...is this?" she asked.
"I believe it's called an Aston Martin," he said.
The name sounded familiar. Didn't James Bond drive one, too?
"Are you sure it's all right for you to drive this?" she asked. "How were you able to get this anyway? Did your parents rent it for you?"
He smiled and opened the passenger door for her. "You ask a lot of questions."
When he didn't elaborate, she had little else to do than slip into the soft leather seat. It even smelled expensive. Carter went around to the driver's side. He started the ignition and the engine purred to life.
The Aston, in the midst of traffic, was like a black diamond in a barrel of coal. Mary was still speechless for a while, taking it all in. She'd never ridden in a car remotely as beautiful as this one. "Can I turn off the stereo?" she asked.
"Sure," he said. "You don't like the music?"
She shook her head as she switched off the sound system. "I just want to listen to the engine. It sounds really cool."
Carter smiled and gave it some throttle. He maneuvered through traffic with surprisingly little effort. When they got onto the open road, he really opened the taps and the engine sang. Part of Mary wondered if the cops would stop them. The other parts didn't care.
A little while later, they arrived in a nice shopping and restaurant area. Carter pulled up to the curb, where a team of valets ran out to meet them. One opened Mary's door for her and greeted her with a pleasant, "Good evening, ma'am."
Mary looked around. Club-like music played on outdoor speakers. Some of the people on the crowded sidewalks stopped to look at and take pictures of the Aston with their smartphones.
Carter handed the valet the keys before meeting Mary on the sidewalk. "Have you been here before?"
She shook her head.
"Good," he said. "This will be new for you, too."
They walked into a restaurant with a sign that said "Spice" on the door. It was pretty packed, and a wave of aromatic spices and exotic music assaulted them at once. Several people waited in the front and at the bar. Towards the back was a stage, where a team of dancers in colorful costumes performed.
A young Indian woman at the host podium greeted them. "Welcome! How many are in your party?"
"Just two," Carter said. "I think I'm supposed to ask for Raj. Is he in?"
She nodded. "Are you Carter?"
"Yes ma'am," he said.
She grabbed a couple menus and smiled. "Right this way please."
Mary looked back at the other people who had gotten there before them. She wondered if "Raj" was a code or something.
The young woman led them upstairs to the balcony and seated them at a table that had a "Reserved" sign on it, with a perfect view of the stage. After she left, a boy about their age came to their table. He was Indian also, and he had a smile that Hollywood would cry for.
"Carter!" he said as they shook hands. "Glad you could make it, man."
"Hey Raj," Carter said. "Thanks for inviting us. This is Mary."
"Glad to meet you, Mary," Raj said.
"Same here," she said, smiling. His grin was infectious. "You two know each other?"
"We live in the same neighborhood," Carter said. "He goes to St. Mark's."
Mary knew about St. Mark's, the all-boys school. Kids who went there were pretty much guaranteed to get into an Ivy League college after graduation.
"Yeah, we've practically been neighbors for years and never said a word to one another until a few weeks ago," Raj said. "This is my parents' restaurant. Well, one of them. I told Carter that he should come by some time. Plus, tonight's Bollywood night."
Mary laughed. "Sounds awesome."
"Have either of you had Indian food before?" Raj asked.
They shook their heads. "What do you recommend?" Carter asked.
"Do you like spicy stuff?"
They both nodded.
He flashed his winning smile. "Lemme see what I can do. I'll send a server over to get your drink orders."
He left, and Mary turned her attention to the dancers. They stomped their feet and hopped in rhythm with the music. They were exciting to watch, like a chaos of color and sound that somehow managed to move in an orderly fashion. When they finished, everyone applauded.
"That was great," Mary said, looking back at Carter.
He nodded. "They were very good."
They didn't say anything for a moment. Mary flicked at the zipper on her purse. Inside was the pen-shaped blood test. She slipped it out and hid it under the linen napkin in her lap. She needed to figure out a way to get Carter's blood.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
"Huh?" she said, realizing that she was staring at him kinda dumbly. "Oh. I just…I wasn't thinking of anything in particular."
He nodded and looked over the balcony. "I'm glad you agreed to come with me tonight."
"Why?" she asked.
"I like being with you," he said.
She blushed a little. "You said that before. But what does that mean?"
He thought for a moment. "You have a good energy about you."
"Energy?" she asked.
He nodded. "I think that's the best word I can use. Another might be 'radiation.' Or 'electricity.' But I don't know if that would make sense."
She shook her head.
"Well, it's the best I can come up with," he said. "But yes, you have a good energy. It's refreshing. You probably don't notice it. But others do. It makes people like being around you."
She smirked. "Like my long list of nonexistent friends?"
He laughed. "You don't notice it, but people are attracted to you. It's just that you don't reach back out to them. It can be intimidating."
"I intimidate people?" she asked.
He nodded.
She thought for a moment. "Do I intimidate you?"
"Yes," he said. "But not as much now."
"I don't mean to," she said.
"I didn't think you did," he said. "You probably do it to protect yourself, which is not always bad. And you do have friends. There's Ben. And your grandmother. And the people at Agape. Friends aren't just people at school."
"I guess I never thought about it that way. Or them," she said. She suddenly wondered what kind of books he was reading during his time off from basketball. Did the school library even have psychology books? "You seem to be studying me a lot."
"You fascinate me," he said. "I'm curious why you do the things you do. I suppose that before, I was very intimidated by you. And it was easier to lower my standards than strive for higher ones."
"I'm a high standard?" she asked, surprised.
"Very."
She blushed again.
"Now I would like to ask you something," he said. "Why did you agree to go on this date with me?"
Mary rolled the blood best pen between her fingers. "I suppose you fascinate me, too."
"How so?"
"Well, the complete change in your personality is a start," she said. "I used to despise you."
He nodded. "I have a better understanding of why. But now?"
She thought for a moment. "I guess I don't anymore."
He smiled. "I'm glad."
Their food arrived, and the table filled up quickly with colorful dishes that smelled awesome. Raj came back as well. "Well, what do you think?"
"Looks like you sent out everything on the menu," Mary laughed.
He smiled. "You're not gonna find any tikka masala here. The place may look swanky, but these are traditional dishes." He explained what each of the dishes were, using words like korma, naan, biryani, samosa, and other things that Mary hadn't heard of before. "You guys enjoy. Holler if you need something." And he left.
Mary started putting a few things on her plate. But everything tasted so good that soon she was stuffing herself. Carter, however, only took a couple bites of a few things.
"You eat like a bird," she joked.
"A bird?" he asked.
She nodded. "You eat really small portions, and you don't finish your food."
He looked down at his plate. "You normally consume everything you're served?"
"That's the general idea," she said. "Or just until you're full."
He looked at his plate again. Then he picked up his fork and proceeded to finish everything on it.
They talked more through dinner and watched the performances on stage. At the end of the meal, they had a lot of food left over, so the server bagged it up for them. Raj came to their table one last time to offer them dessert.
"I think I'm 'good full,'" Mary said. "I don't think I want to be 'bad full,' so I'll pass."
"As long as you're not 'gross full,'" Raj said. "That's when you're so full that it's hard to breathe because your stomach is pushing up into your lung region."
Mary and Carter laughed.
"Anyway, here's you're bill," Raj said. "I gave you a couple things on the house."
"Thanks," Carter said. "That was nice of you."
"Sure, bro," Raj said. "You both have an awesome evening. Great meeting you Mary. Later, Carter."
Mary took out her wallet. "How much is my part?" she asked.
Carter shook his head. "My treat."
"But that was a lot of food!" she said.
"I know. But I asked you out tonight and I picked the place." He took some cash from his wallet and placed it with the ticket.
She stared at him for a moment. Finally, she put her wallet away. "Okay. But I'm buying the next time."
He smiled. "I'm glad to hear you say that."
"That I'm buying?" she asked.
"That there will be a next time."
Mary blushed.
"Ready to go?" he asked. "Or do you want to stay longer?"
She chuckled. "I'm so full. If I keep sitting, I might fall asleep."
He laughed as well. "Then perhaps we should go for a walk."
Mary started to stand, and as she did, the blood test fell from her lap and onto the floor. Dinner had distracted her, and she had forgotten that it was still there.
Her heart skipped a beat as Carter reached down to pick it up. "Here you go. You dropped this."
"Uh, thanks." She quickly stowed it in her purse. She looked to see if he suspected anything. Thankfully, he didn't seem to, and they headed for the door together.
Outside, the temperature had dropped a little. Mary tucked her arms around herself.
"Are you cold?" Carter asked.
"Just a little," she said. "I'll be fine."
But he removed his jacket and set it around her shoulders. It was wonderfully warm, just like his sweater was after Ben's art show.
"If you're not careful, I'm going to have all your jackets," she said. "Don't let me forget to give this one back to you."
He chuckled. "Okay."
They walked without saying anything for a few minutes. Then Carter asked, "Mary?"
"Yes?"
"Have you forgiven me yet?"
"For what?"
"For insulting you," he said. "I remember it now. The day I spoke a deplorable word to you. And it was over something very insignificant."
Deplorable? Who talked like that? Then, the "chink" episode came back to mind, and Mary frowned.
"It took some time for me to find that mem—to remember," he explained. "But I know it now. And I am very sorry."
She shrugged. "It's not a big deal."
"But I think it is," he said. "I wish there was a way I could take that back, so that it won't harm you anymore."
She wrinkled her brow. "It didn't harm me."
"I think it did," he said.
"Why?"
"Because you said it isn't a big deal," he said. "I've observed that when people say that, it actually means the opposite."
Mary said nothing. And she started to feel agitated. Was he bringing out the psychology again?
"When you don't forgive someone, you let that person keep harming you," he continued.
She crossed her arms. "Who are you now? Dr. Phil?"
"Who?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said. "If I say I forgive you, will you stop bringing it up?"
"Yes," he said.
"Fine," she said. "You're forgiven."
He didn't answer right away. Then he said, "Thank you."
"Feel better?" she asked.
He nodded. "You?"
She thought for a moment. "Actually, yeah. I do." Mary hadn't realized how heavy holding a grudge had felt before, now that it was gone.
They walked in silence for a few more minutes before he spoke again. "Mary? I have an odd question."
"What is it?"
"Well, I notice you don't touch people often," he said. "Why is that?"
She looked at him. "Huh?"
"At school," he explained, "I often see some males shake hands or bump their fists. Like Raj did with me when we arrived at the restaurant. Females tend to embrace other females and some males. But you don't do that."
"I don't know people at school that well," she explained. "So, I don't want to touch them."
"I see," he said. "But you touch your grandmother. You embrace her and hold her arm and sometimes you kiss her."
"Yeah, because she's my grandmother," she said. "I'm close to her. I do the same with my mom."
He was silent for a moment. Then he asked, "I've also seen some males and females holding hands. It's because they're close too, correct?"
"Yeah," she said. He was right. These were odd questions.
"Then," he continued, "would it be out of order if I asked you if I may hold your hand?"
"What?" she asked, surprised.
"I guess it is," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "My apologies."
Mary stared at him for a moment. Then, she reached for one of his hands, pulling it out of its pocket and lacing her fingers into his. "You didn't let me finish answering the question."
Carter looked at her surprised. Then, he smiled.
Mary smiled as well. She then realized how warm his hand was. "Wow, you're hot."
"Hot?" he asked.
"I mean, temperature hot," she said. "Are you all right?"
He nodded. "Why?"
"You're just really warm," she said. "Like you have a fever."
Carter looked like he was concentrating on something. Then, he said, "My body runs hot sometimes. It's nothing to be concerned about."
They walked by a closed store that had high-end furniture displayed in the window, along with a large clock showing that it was about half past nine. Mary remembered her promise to Mom. "Hey, I know this is kinda last minute. But can we swing by the hospital and see my mom? She wants to meet you."
She expected him to get nervous. However, Carter nodded and said, "Certainly. I want to meet your mother, too."
Back to Table of Contents