“Okay,” I said, but I already knew that.
My parents lived in a small suburb of Oakland, in the same house I was born in. It was a modest tract home, but it was warm and always smelled like homemade food. My mother swung the door open before I could ring the doorbell.
“Hello,” she said with a smile. Her attention was immediately drawn to Lucian as he held out his hand.
“Hello, Ms. Casey, it’s nice to meet you,” Lucian said.
“Please call me Jane.” She appraised him and seemed taken aback.
“Okay, Jane,” he said as they continued shaking hands for what seemed like too long.
She turned on her heel and walked toward the hallway. “Come on in and meet Evey’s dad.”
In the hallway, I whispered, “Did you do something to her?”
“No, I swear.”
“What was her deal? She acted odd.”
He shrugged. “I have no idea why.”
My father and Lucian had a similar introduction, then my mother offered Lucian a drink. He declined, and I was surprised.
“Is it all right if I have a glass of wine?” I asked him.
“Of course,” he said, as if it were a silly question.
My mother pulled me into the small guest bathroom and shut the door.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She was wearing a funny yellow apron that said Sauce Boss on it. I laughed at it, but she wasn’t amused. My mother and I looked exactly alike in facial structure and body, but she had blond hair and blue eyes and I had dark hair and dark eyes like my father. Her eyebrows arched.
“Say something, Mother.”
“What does he do for a living? He’s older than you, right? Where did you meet him?”
“Geez, is this the Spanish inquisition? You don’t like him?”
“Evey, he’s gorgeous—I mean, exotically handsome, but I don’t know him and this just seems a bit sudden. I’m just curious about him. Curious why you’ve never mentioned him, and you’re already bringing him home to meet the parents.”
“God, he really is good-looking, isn’t he?” I said dreamily.
“Evelyn, focus.”
“I’ve known him for a while. He’s a bit older than me.” What an understatement that was. “I met him through mutual friends. He’s in securities.”
“Securities?” My mom looked skeptical.
“Some kind of business with brokerage firms… something like that.”
“So he works in the city? In an office?”
I hesitated. “Yes?”
“Is that a question, Evelyn?”
I was worried she’d walk straight out of the bathroom and ask Lucian about banking securities, which was exactly what she did. I tried to stop her. Lucian was sitting in the living room on the couch, talking about, of course, UPS delivery service.
My dad said, “Hey, DD, this guy is a serious history buff. He knows everything about the beginnings of the United Parcel Service.”
“Yeah, Lucian’s a reader,” was all I could think to say.
Lucian was looking at me, wearing one of those smiles that made it hard not to smile back. He looked like a little boy about to walk into Disneyland.
“Lucian,” my mother said.
“Yes, Jane?”
“So you’re in banking, Evey tells me.”
“Yes, that’s right.” I knew he’d pick up on what to do. “Asset securities to be exact.” He winked. I lost my balance and had to grip the back of the couch.
“What are asset securities?” my father said.
Oh shit, what if he doesn’t know?
“It’s actually pretty simple. I buy shares in companies or in mutual funds that are invested in the stock market. It’s a lot of number crunching. It’s not that exciting, but it pays the bills.”
God, he’s good.
“Do you want to see my childhood bedroom, Lucian?” I asked.
“Evey,” my mother scolded.
“Just to show him around,” I whined.
My mother rolled her eyes. Lucian looked back at my dad for approval.
“Go ahead, DD, show him around.”
“Come on.” I grabbed Lucian’s hand and pulled him down the hall to my bedroom. With my back to him, I said, “So this is it. I’m an only child.” He laughed, so I turned on my heel. Our faces were inches apart. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I know you’re an only child. I’ve known you since you were a baby, remember?” He opened his eyes wide for emphasis. “I know a lot about you.”
I had forgotten about that little fact. For a while, we had just been a couple of people getting to know each other. I knew I had a sour look on my face when Lucian added, “Not everything though. There’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
“What don’t you know about me?”
“I can’t read your mind.”
“Oh, big deal. So you don’t know what I’m thinking? Most people can’t read minds. How did you know I told my mom about the securities thing? We were whispering in the other room. By the way, are my parents’ angels in here with us?”
“No, they’re outside—two females. I’ve known them since you were born. They hang out on that old porch swing, smoking cigarettes… menthols. Your mom always thought your dad was sneaking cigarettes.”
I laughed. I knew about that. I remember her accusing him once.
“They’re usually really nice,” he said, “but they gave me a dirty look when we walked up, so I didn’t say anything.” He clenched his teeth like the angels outside might be a problem.
“You never answered me. How’d you know what I told my mom if you can’t read minds?”
“I can hear you from far away when you’re speaking aloud. But I can’t hear your thoughts. Sometimes when I’m worried about you”—his lips moved closer to mine—“I wish I could hear your thoughts, but other times, I’m glad you’re a mystery to me.”
I pecked him on the lips and pulled away. “I’m the mystery?”
His eyes moved to my mouth. “I don’t understand anything anymore.” He pulled my body flush with his. “I just know this feels right and good.”
I believed Lucian was grappling with something far bigger than even my own disbelief of what was happening and what he was. I had always been of a very sound mind. There was never a time, even in my young childhood, when I imagined things that weren’t there or made up stories in my head. Now I was kissing my guardian angel in my childhood bedroom in Oakland, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted him to put his hand up my shirt. That was where my head was at. In the gutter would be an understatement. Lucian knew he had that effect on me. He knew I would never be able to get him out of my system.
We finished an early dinner with my parents, then Lucian and I spent the rest of the evening running around town, doing the things Lucian said he had never been able to enjoy. We went bowling and drove go-carts and watched twenty minutes of a cheesy romantic comedy in an old theater. I couldn’t even remember what it was about because we were basically making out in the back the whole time. He didn’t do anything angel-like that night. We walked from the Wharf to Ghirardelli Square and shared a giant ice cream sundae. We were a normal couple.