Page 59 of Never To Suffer (The Hollywoodland #4)
DANCIN’ AROUND
MEG DONNELLY
I’m in the middle of one of Xander’s epic fantasy novels he left out on the table, enjoying the rare quiet of the apartment, when the door handle turns, and Theo walks in with a tin of something he made from scratch last night.
His being here reinforces my idea of the pattern of life he lives.
If Xander spends the night at Theo’s, they’re together most of the day and we don’t see much of them.
If Xander spends the night here, I can almost set my watch to Theo’s appearance the next day with something delicious and fresh baked in his hands.
He’s not intrusive. I don’t even find it that weird, just something I noticed from my view in the background.
If Theo’s noticed any patterns like that in me, he hasn’t mentioned it, although since he’s not my shrink, he doesn’t need to notice me at all.
“Hey, Doc,” I don’t bother looking up from the book or climbing inside. “If you’re looking for the kids, they were gone before I got back, so I’m not sure when they plan to be home. Date night.”
“Yeah, I got the calendar reminder earlier. I wasn’t planning to cook anything because of that, but, well, I didn’t want to disappoint you by not coming over.”
“So, you noticed your own habit?” That gets my attention.
I put the book down and lean in, curiosity getting the better of me.
Theo doesn’t come over for me, I’m an afterthought.
That title doesn’t bother me since we’re all still adjusting to this whole situation.
In all fairness, I haven’t extended an olive branch of any kind either.
“I, uhm, thought you were headed out to France?”
“I am,” he answers with a slow nod. “Not for a few days, though. Baggy must know, too, because she’s been MIA since I got home and finished cooking these. She does that as soon as I get the luggage out and pack.”
“She’ll be in good hands, Doc. She and Dani both have the same care instructions: feed them and pet them until they’re happy.
” I run my hand through my hair, trying to figure out what we do next in this awkward dance, but he takes the lead, walking over and holding a box out to me.
Reflexes say I should take it, thank him, and leave it on the counter for Xander, but my gut says there’s something else going on here.
“I noticed the other day that you were a fan of the pistachio macarons. So, knowing they wouldn’t be here to eat them before you get a chance, I made you some. Call it an ice breaker, of sorts.”
“You made them…for me?” I take the box and read the handwritten note he’s left on top. “ Skylar’s, do not eat these if your name isn’t Skylar . Pretty sure you could put these under lock and key and Dani would still find a way in. Uhm, thank you.”
It’s awkward. Neither of us is sure where to go from here.
Do we shake, hug, or keep staring at each other for all eternity?
Guess it’s my turn to take the initiative.
I slide over and pat the pillow next to me.
“Care to join me? Xander rolled this for me before he left. I haven't gotten around to it yet.”
I hold up a joint and he takes it and nods before climbing through the large window and onto the fire escape. I love old buildings. They’ve all got built in patios perfect for some fresh air if you’re not a dick about it. I grab the bottle of wine I brought out with me early and set it between us.
“It’s not French, or even that good, but?—”
“Doesn’t matter. Wine and coffee share a lot in common, Skylar. The company you’re with can make a fifty-cent cup taste like it costs a million dollars. You’ll keep the memories long after you’ve forgotten the brand.”
“And here Dani thinks I’m the wordsmith. I might make use of that saying.” I pour some wine into a coffee cup and hand it over to him. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it out of the lyrics. For now.”
“Do you write any of her songs?” He asks, sniffing wine and taking a drink. “The lyrics, I mean.”
“No, I leave that all up to her. Well, more like she refuses to relinquish that responsibility.”
He nods, and the silence falls over us for a while.
Adjusting to each other’s company will take time.
I light my smoke and hand him the lighter.
It’s a rare, nice day in Los Angeles, if you stick to the shadows of the buildings.
The triple digital temperatures of summer are gone, but we’re not into the cooler months yet.
We might get lucky and get a cool November next month.
“How are you doing with Anna? Are you two getting along?” He asks, lighting the joint and taking a deep pull.
“She’s been wonderful. I had to call her from the road a few times with the way the tour has been, and she’s handled the odd hours of my…breakdowns with grace and kindness.” He holds the joint out to me and I stare at it for too long before taking it.
The thick, smooth taste of the weed comforts me more than my cigarettes.
Nothing like the skunky shit we used to buy from dealers when I was a teenager.
The months-long break means it hits harder than I’m prepared for, bringing me down to a mellow I’ve been trying to replicate for a while now.
I pass it back, blowing out smoke rings. Theo does the same.
“You should know,” Theo says as I offer him a macaron.
“I had ulterior motives coming over here today. I almost chickened out. Twice.” I grab the bottle of wine and top us both off before he says anything else.
This might be an intervention or him gearing up to give me a speech about the quad not working and how I’m the problem.
I’m gonna need a drink. “I’m trying to figure out the other sides of this box, and how we connect. ”
“You’d rather it be a triangle, I assume?”
His head tilts to the side before he reaches over and takes one of the macarons, staring at it.
“You know, I have a strange ability to relate to people through food easier than I do emotions sometimes, which, for a psychiatrist, can be problematic. I also don’t waste my time, talent, and ingredients on someone if they’re not worth it.
If they’re not someone I want to connect with in some way.
My issue isn’t that I want a different shape or number, it’s that I’m too stuck in my own angle to see everyone’s place in the shape we’re making. ”
“I…don’t think I understand.”
Theo picks up the box and pulls out the tray of cookies, setting them aside and pointing to an edge of the box. “This represents you, and I’m on the edge opposite you. We both see Xander and Dani, but our edges can’t see one another. Unless we do this.”
He folds the box, collapsing it into itself, flattening it. I take it when he hands it to me, turning it over in both my mind and my hands as what he’s saying makes more sense. He’s not leaving or asking me to leave. But I’m not sure what he’s talking about yet.
“You should stick to food metaphors. But how do we get here? To a place where we can all see each other’s edges?”
“Well, that’s the reason for my trepidation.
I couldn’t figure it out, and that bothered me, which led me to baking, which had me grabbing pistachios, something I rarely use.
I didn’t question it; my heart told me I needed to bake for you.
The skipped beats, the sweaty palms, the way my mind buzzes around you.
You’re not Xander, or Dani, you’re a high school crush I don’t know how to talk to. ”
“I’m confused again,” I set the box aside. “Usually, it’s me who confuses people.”
“You shouldn’t.” He holds out a hand, palm up, and gestures toward mine.
When he takes my hand, he draws in my palm, like he’s reading it or something.
“Skylar, I’m using too many colorful descriptions and bullshit to say something simple.
You are someone I don’t know well enough, but I like you enough to cook for you, and I trust you. So, I’d like to ask you out on a date.”
My eyebrows shoot up and for once in my life, I’m at an utter loss for words.
“Romantic chaos offers so much when people open their minds to it. This also wouldn’t be my first polyamorous relationship, although we stopped at three people before.
I assumed more people would be too much, but that’s wrong.
I’m amazed every day at how much more stable and capable we are together.
” He brings my hand to his lips and my heart flutters.
It could be the weed, but I doubt it. “Skylar, I’ve watched you and Dani hold Xander up when he’s ready to fall, and a moment later, he’s by your side when you need that tender touch that Dani isn’t comfortable with.
You all have a role in this family, and it’s beautiful.
I want to be a part of that, a part of all three of your lives, not only Dani and Xander’s. ”
“You…do? I’m sorry, I prepared to hear you recite a list of reasons why I am the problem, that my past would eventually bring negative influences on Xander, that my feelings toward them were jaded by trauma to my mind.”
“Those are your inner demons; they’re wearing a mask to fool you into thinking it comes from me.
From a professional standpoint, I believe your accident did bring you three together, but not because of mental trauma.
You had a massive shift in priorities, and it hit you fast. You’re not the first, although you were lucky enough to know where to go from there.
You were afraid to commit to it at the time, also a normal reaction. ”
“Would you mind if I show you something?” He follows me inside and I push a shelf to the side, revealing markings on the wall.
“Mural?” He asks, stepping closer.
I trace along the wall with my finger. “Door. It represents the hope that we can all pull together and become one. I also thought Baguette would appreciate having access to two kitchens.”
“So would Dani. I’ve been thinking of doing this. Have you checked the wall?”