In His Secret Life

Chapter 5-3

I’d gotten my senses back, and thankfully my mind was on the right track again. This was due to Davinder stepping out to make an important phone call. I was now able to carry on a normal conversation.

Dali and my sister were in the dining room just behind me, talking, and I knew Dali was trying to sell himself to Elsie in hopes of seducing me. I pretended not to hear him. He wasn’t a terrible person, but he tried too hard. He was still in that angry “in your face” period of coming out, and I was way past that. Dali was still struggling to find his identity and I needed a man in my life, not an angst-ridden teenager. In a few years, perhaps Dali would probably become a wonderful man, but I didn’t have it in me to see him get there.

“Well,” Ingrid said, getting out of her chair, “I’m going to go wash some dishes before everything sticks.” She kissed Jude on the head. “You should take a break from that or you’ll hurt your eyes.”

“He’s fine,” Eileen snapped. “He hasn’t been playing that long.” She looked around. “And where’s Davin anyway?”

I looked from Ingrid’s face to Eileen’s. They were staring at each other.

I coughed. “I’ll help you,” I offered, getting up as well. “With the dishes.”

In the kitchen, Ingrid handed me a towel. “You dry.”

“Yes, ma’am.” We washed, dried, and stacked without exchanging but a few words here and there. I liked the peaceful sound of the water running, her hands moving over the dishes, her red fingernails shining through the soap suds, the smell of her perfume. I wanted her to be mine for a moment. I remembered what it felt like to be someone’s son.

“You and Elsie seem to have such a strong bond.” Ingrid handed me a plate. “And you’ve both raised Fay wonderfully.”

“I didn’t really raise her. I have to give my sister all the credit—”

“Of course you did. Elsie tells me you live in the same building and not a day goes by—”

“Yes, that’s true.”

She shot me a sidelong glance. “Dayton’s always wanted kids, but his last girlfriend had a change of heart after five years of living together. She left him and took a job in England. He fell to pieces that year and—”

“Mom, is there any of that beef and broccoli left?” Davinder walked into the kitchen. “I think I need to eat something.” He dumped the rest of his black coffee into the empty sink. “Am I interrupting?” He gave his mother an uneasy look. “What are you telling him?”

She grabbed his chin. “You’re white as a ghost.”

He pulled away from her and went to the fridge. “I’m fine.” He popped open a container of something that looked like hummus. He found a piece of bread.

Ingrid snatched the bread out of his hand. “This is not a meal.” She turned away and started pulling things out of Tupperware before he had a chance to reply.

Davinder took his phone out of his pocket, and while he fiddled with it, I tried not to analyze his handsome face. Of course, I failed. He looked up at me. I quickly looked down at the paper lying around the counter, flipping a page.

“You live near the Atwater market, huh?”

Could he see how flushed I was? “Yeah, just a few blocks away.”

“I rent an office near there.”

Davinder worked minutes from where I lived? I’d never seen him. Oh, I would have remembered that face. That walk. Those eyes. “You’re a multimedia artist, right?”

“Not anymore. Now I spend my time on this phone.” He sighed.

“Davinder runs his own business.” Ingrid brushed a strand of his silky black hair off his forehead. “And he needs to be patient. He needs to know that these things take time.”

“Yes, and my mother needs to know that an artist needs to create or an artist loses his mind bit by bit.” He looked down at the plate of steamed vegetables Ingrid had set before him and picked up his fork. “But thank you,” he said before taking a small bite.

“You’re welcome.” She laughed and walked out of the kitchen. “Eat up.”

We were alone and I was sweating. I was glad for dark clothes. I wanted to talk to him. Wanted this moment to last. “How long have you had the business?” I asked, my voice not quite steady.

“A year next month.” He moved his fork around the plate, but he wasn’t eating. “She’s right, you know…I can’t expect to have the time I used to have to draw. Or even think, for that matter. Just think. Sit there and daydream. Or stir images around in my head.”

I hung on his every word. “What kind of art are you into? What is it that you draw exactly?”

“You’re being very gracious asking me about my art, but you really don’t have to pretend to be interested.” He fiddled with his phone again. “And what is it that you do?”

“I’m a clerk.”

“Okay…sounds like a stress-free sort of job.” There was a trace of humor in his words.

“Oh, now you’re the one being gracious by pretending to think being a clerk is anything but lame.” I smiled. And he laughed. I leaned in a little, feeling more confident. “So tell me, what kind of artist are you?”

He was skeptical. “You’re really interested? Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“All right, well, I’m fascinated by the paradoxes of the human experience, and that’s my main theme. Finding life in the opposites. You know, blue is blue only because it isn’t red. That sort of thinking.”

This line of thought had always fascinated me. And I’d just finished reading Plato this week. “You’ve read Plato’s Phédon or maybe—”

“You’re into Greek philosophers?” Davinder gave me a puzzled look.

“Not only Greek, but American and Russian as well.” I was a big geek. In the last decade, I’d steadily read two books a week. My bookcase was about to fall over. Philosophy was my favorite subject.

Davinder touched a finger to his lips. “Interesting. I was a philosophy major until I switched over to fine arts, and finally multimedia.”

“Really? You mean, you actually chose to read and study philosophy?”

“Philosophy is where it’s at.” His eyes were fixed to mine. “It’s the art of thinking, I guess.”

In that moment, I saw something in Davinder’s stare. Something I shouldn’t have been seeing in a married man’s eyes. He was feeling it, too. This thing between us. This thing that had us both by the throat. What was it exactly? I’d never been this interested in another man’s thoughts.

“So that’s it,” he finally said. His voice was strained as if he’d actually been choking. “That’s what I like to draw.” He looked at his phone and slid his thumb along its screen.

I wanted him to look at me that way again. “I’d love to see your drawings,” I said, meeting his eyes with a surer gaze.

“Sure. I’ll show you sometime.” Obviously, he’d gotten his wits about him. The moment was gone.

As he walked out, I felt like a man who’d sipped a fatal dose of poison. What had gotten into me, flirting with him that way?

“What are you doing?” Elsie tapped my shoulder. “You okay?”

How long had I been staring out into space? “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Dayton walked in, carrying Fay on his hip. “What do you guys say we hit the road? I’ll drive you all home while they clean my house.” He laughed at his own joke and turned to me. “Wasn’t too bad, huh?”

“No, it was great,” I said, not recognizing my own voice. Davinder. What was it about him?

Elsie agreed. “We should do this again soon.”

We made our way to the entrance and said our goodbyes. All the while, I tried not to look at Davinder. He was busy with his older son—the dark-haired child I’d been introduced to—both of them whispering.

“I’ll get in touch with you this week,” Dali said near my ear. “If you like.”

I couldn’t help pulling away from him. “Okay.”

“We’ll get together.” He gave me an insisting look. “You know.”

I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I nodded and gently moved my hand out of his. I looked at the floor, eager for Elsie to finish putting Fay’s shoes on. I didn’t know how to part with Davinder. Didn’t know how to act normal anymore.

Eileen shook my hand and dropped a quick kiss on my cheek. “Take care.” She pushed Jude my way. “Say goodbye to your future uncle,” she told him.

“Goodbye,” the boy mumbled.

I just stood there, waiting. But for what? What did I expect?

“Good night,” Davinder said and picked up his younger son.

“Good night,” I muttered before walking out. At the end of the hall, I saw Dayton and my sister swinging Fay between the two of them. I was relieved things were going well for the three of them.

“Come by this week if you want.” Davinder had stepped out and stood in the hall, frowning seriously. “If you wanna see my drawings, I mean.” His voice wasn’t too steady.

“Okay.” I hesitated, wanting to walk back to him, but froze instead. “Sure, yeah.” My heart beat harder and harder.

“Okay,” he echoed the word back to me softly.

“I’ll ask Dayton where your place is and—”

“Wednesday is good.” He backed away, not looking at me. “Seven?” he asked in a shakier voice.

What were we doing here? This was a dangerous game. “I’ll be there,” I said, against good reason.

When he’d walked back into Dayton’s home, my sister called out to me. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing.” I held the door open for them. “He wants to show me his drawings, that’s all.” My first lie to my sister.

There would be many more.

“Really?” Dayton was shocked. “Wow, that’s a first.”