HIM (7 page)

              “Of course,” he smiled.  “Whenever you’re ready.  It doesn’t have to be today, tomorrow or even next year.  At whatever time you feel most comfortable is when I’ll be prepared to listen.”

              “You really think you’ll want me around in a year?”

              “You haven’t given me a probable reason not to.”

My stomach sank.  In time I
would
give him a reason for not wanting to be with me anymore.  If I told him what happened to me last year – and all the baggage I’d been carrying because of it – he’d leave me for sure.  I was damaged goods, used.  What guy would want a used product?

. . . . But I couldn’t
not
tell him.  I didn’t even know how to begin my horror story.

              “Mmm,” I assented.

              “Ava,” he broke off before continuing, “may I call you Ava?” he asked.

              “Sure.”  I was surprised that would be his nickname of choice for me; Tory was the only one to ever call me that.  But I liked the way Jensen said it more so than her.  It sounded better coming from his voice – so silky and inhuman.

              “Ava…why are you so timid in front of me at times?  It’s as if you’re afraid I’ll abandon you suddenly.”

Well if he isn’t an observant fellow . . . .

              “I’m not going anywhere,” he added.  “So please don’t worry about that.  If anything I’m worried about
you
leaving
me
,” he sighed.

That caught my attention.  “Why?”

“Have you
seen
yourself?” he chuckled.

“Yeah.”

“
And
…?”

“And what?”

“Do you not notice how unbelievably
amazing
you are?  Avalon, your charm and charisma mixed with your striking good looks and intelligence is so
compelling
to all of the Plain Jane’s out there.”

“Are you comparing me to a Plain Jane?” I asked skeptically, amused.

“Yes.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his statement.  “I can’t believe you just said that. 
You
are the one I have to worry about regarding all that…and more.”

He snickered.  “Ava, I’m less than what you think I am, trust me.”

I couldn’t believe my ears.  Did he just say he was
less
than what he was?

“Jensen, you are the most extraordinary man I’ve ever met.  And that’s an understatement.”

Jensen bit his bottom lip.  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

              “I don’t?”  I looked him in the eyes without any fear.  “Tell me I’m lying to you.”

              “I’m not saying you’re lying,” he said in defense.  “I’m only admitting I don’t believe what you say is true.”

              “That makes two of us.”

              “Why do you doubt yourself so much?” he asked timidly.  He caught me off guard with that one.  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “that was unacceptable.  You don’t have to answer.”  His eyes looked as if they’d been defeated – like he’d lost a war he knew he’d never win.

              “Because of what happened to me last year…I guess I don’t think I can
do
anything anymore.”  I thought for a moment.  “
Be
anything anymore,” I added softly.  My eyes focused on a small little girl holding hands with her father about forty feet away.

              “You
can
.”

I chuckled.  “
Sure I can
,” heavy sarcasm oozing from every word.

              “I don’t believe you’re a negative person, Ava.  You’ve just…lost faith.”

              “I haven’t lost faith.”

              “Not in G-d.  In yourself.”

              “I’m perfectly fine.”  What was the point of lying to him?  He could see right through me anyway.

              “You’re not.”  Like I said, he could see right through me.

              “You don’t know me.”

              “I know more about you than you think, Avalon.  And another thing, I can read people.  You’re only acting this way because you’re afraid of the unknown.  Take a risk or two…maybe even with me.  You have to have an open mind.  Otherwise you’ll be stuck circling this same crippled outlook for the rest of your life.  And I don’t think you’d enjoy that too much.”

              “What I went through…the kind of
pain
I went through…I can’t go through that again,” I admitted, a thick lump forming in my throat.  I tried clearing it away but it wouldn’t budge.  “It hurt –
hurts
– too much, Jensen.”  The beginning of tears burned my eyes.  I was flabbergasted with myself to say the least.  “And for the record
I
am open minded.  My heart just isn’t.”

              “But you can’t live your life in fear of losing someone again.  You need to hold your head up high and say ‘
I’m Avalon Montage and I’m the best darn thing out there.  Pain, get out of my way!
’”

His theatrics were a bit overdone with all the hand movements and whatnot but he did have a point . . . although I didn’t want to listen to him.  Not about this – about the one situation that controlled my life; the way it had been running for over eleven months now.  I was safe in my own little cocoon until Jensen showed up.  Now I guessed the butterfly was slowly emerging from the cozy home it had once built for itself.  I just needed a push.

“You ready to go back inside?” he asked.

“Yes.”

We walked back to the convenience store to eat the meal Jensen had prepared.  Afterwards we cleaned up our mess and Jensen locked up the store.  We were now strolling down the deserted street.

              “Thank you for the remarkable dinner,” I told him, feeling fuller and more satisfied than I had in a long time.  Throughout the meal I – not once – felt even the slightest bit self-conscious while eating in front of him.  He was already helping me with some of my issues and he didn’t even know it.

              “Absolutely anytime,” he smiled.  “Anything for you.”

              We were walking relatively slow, not wanting our delightful night to end.

              “Where did you learn to cook like that?” I asked.

              “Since I’ve traveled all over the world I’ve picked up a few things,” he winked.  “I intentionally didn’t go overboard tonight not knowing what you liked and didn’t like.  So I made something simple.”

              “Well it was delicious,” I admitted, grinning.

              “Do you cook?”

              “I dabble.”

              “And that means?” he laughed.

              “I used to cook a lot.  But this year I haven’t done much of that.  Much of anything, really.”

              There was an awkward silence I knew I caused.

              “Well then,” Jensen said, “looks like we’ll have to cook together sometime.”

              “You’d like that?”

“I certainly would.”

“Sounds good to me.”  I was happy.  “I have a question that’s been on my mind for a while.”

              “Shoot.”

              “If you inherited all this money from your parents why do you work at Old Tily’s?  I mean, wouldn’t you rather work some place…nicer?  Or…not work at all?”

              He chuckled.  “Working at Old Tily’s humbles me, Ava.  Money was basically the substitution for my lack of parents during my childhood.  For a long while I let it consume me.  Then one day I decided I didn’t like that way of living any longer so I decided not to flaunt what I’d acquired and began blending in with society the best I could.  Old Tily’s was hiring, I applied for the job and got it.  The owner really likes me because I
apparently
bring in the most customers.”

              I could only imagine why.  His looks alone were enticing; having him speak was a whole other aphrodisiac for the common public.

              Then he said, “So he lets me work the hours I like without much hassle.  He’s told me numerous times his sales have gone up since I began working there.” He shook his head, rolled his eyes and laughed.  “There’s something about sweeping a dirty floor that’s really soothing to me.”  He closed his eyes.  He could make any conversation sound intriguing.  “It’s nice to see a positive outcome appear from such a simple act – I clean the floors, it makes people want to walk into the store.  It makes my boss happy, which makes me happy.  And when I’m happy –”

              “Then I’m happy.”

              “Precisely,” he grinned.  I could listen to him talk for hours.

“You have this way about you, Jensen, that I can’t quite understand.  But at the same time, I get you.”  At least I thought I did.

Jensen’s smile was warm.  “It’s truly astonishing how sweet and loving you are.  You light up every room you enter with your kind words and beautiful smile.”

Without delay heat rose up to my cheeks and I was blushing once more.

“You think too highly of me.”

              “Or maybe you don’t think highly
enough
of yourself?”

              “Touché,” I responded, smiling to myself.

              “Tory has told me what you’ve done for her recently.”

              “Told you what?  All we did was watch a movie and go through some old pictures,” I chuckled.

              “That’s more than enough, don’t you think?” he smiled.

              “I guess so.”

              “You’re a very caring person.  Don’t forget that.”

             
Man, oh man, he’s amazing.

This night had gone even better than the one before.  It seemed unreal, almost illusory.  I noticed when I said things about Jensen
unreal
was the first word to pop into my head.  It seemed like he wasn’t truly here with me or even in existence – that he was all an unbelievably vivid allusion in my psychotic brain.

Jensen Marx was faultless and dreamlike.  I had to convince myself that maybe –
just maybe
– someone human could be this way.  Someone so gracious and bighearted could actually
want
someone like me – ruined and unaided – afraid of the unknown and even more fearful of what I
did
know because it all could turn on me someday.  Yet he thought I was sane.  For what reason?  I didn’t know.  And a part of me didn’t want to find out.  I liked that he thought I was normal, whatever that meant.

              “Jensen?”

              “Yes?”

              “Just wondering,” I began, not sure how to say what I wanted without sounding skeptical, “but how many girls have you treated this well on a date?”

              “Just one,” he paused, “you.”  A crooked smile appeared on his glowing face.  “You don’t seem to think so.”

              “No, no.  It’s just that…you’re so different from other guys.  I just can’t believe you haven’t found…your
one and only
yet.”

              “Don’t be so sure about that.”  He bit his bottom lip and stared at his feet as we walked.

              “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”  I stuck out my tongue in a teasing manner.

              “Not necessarily.”  He mimicked the tongue ordeal.  “I just feel a deep connection with you – something no other woman has accomplished before.  Ever.”

              “Hmm, I see.”  Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach.

Hope was now on my mind.  Hope that he and I would have a fairytale ending and live happily-ever-after, hope that he was the one to love and protect me for the rest of our lives, hope that I would get over my past problems to commit my thoughts only to Jensen’s goodness, his kindness.  Jensen would be mine in no time, I was sure of it.

              Was I afraid?  Yes.  Was I uncertain as to what might happen between us?  Yes.  But truthfully did I want to know?  No.  Because life wouldn’t be exciting if I
did
know.

…Although there was a part of me that wished I could only see the bad things coming my way.  If I had my own approach to this I’d let the good things in life be surprises.

              “Are you tired?” he asked.

              “Not at all.”

It was a little after twelve and I was still pumped.

“Ready for the date to continue?”

“Of course,” I grinned.

He took my hand and we ran down to the beach, the sand beneath our feet.  We took off our shoes and got into the cold water.  The moon was so bright; the water glistened underneath it.

“It’s freezing in here!” I laughed as Jensen splashed me.

“I think it’s the perfect temperature,” he teased sticking his tongue out at me while splashing me once again.