I was surprised when I rang the doorbell and a young boy with an unruly mop of hair opened the door, peeking out from behind it with a smile. I introduced myself just before I heard a woman's exasperated voice say, "Freddie, I told you to put a shirt on, now go upstairs and do what you were told."
The boy, who looked as though his hair hadn't seen a scissor in a couple of years, grinned at me and I could hear running footsteps. The woman opened the door the rest of the way with a welcoming smile, "Come on in, it's nice to finally meet you," the short, plump, salt and pepper haired woman said as she shook my hand and pulled me inside at the same time. I could see where Dan got his curly hair from.
I replied politely in kind although Dan hadn't told me overly much about his family. As I walked in I saw pictures on the walls of smiling children from infancy on up. I had to smile at the ones of Daniel as a toddler because he hadn't changed much. He still had a baby face and the same curly hair, although it had darkened from the platinum blonde which it had once been.
The youngest, Freddie, at this age looked just like Dan had at the age of ten, except for the color of his hair which was dark brown.
There were pictures of a little girl who could only be Dan's sister Amanda on the wall as well. She'd been an adorable little baby and toddler but she looked like a model in what I assumed were her latest pictures.
Dan saw me looking and explained, "I told you about my sister. She's not here. She moved away to Pennsylvania with her boyfriend last year."
Before I could reply the younger boy came back down the stairs, sounding like, as my own mother used to say about me and my brothers, a herd of elephants. He was still grinning and began talking to me, his words rapid fire and nearly impossible to understand for the most part.
"Fred, give the man a chance to settle in before you talk his ears off," his mother said, still sounding exasperated but I could also hear the tone of affection in her voice. "In case you didn't know, this is Freddie, Dan's little brother."
I couldn't help but look between the two a few times in confusion. I knew now that Dan was in his early 20s but this boy couldn't have been much older than twelve.
His mother saw my reaction and chuckled, "Freddie is fourteen now. He was born when Dan was ten years old, he was our big surprise," she explained, giving the boy a hug before asking him to go into the kitchen and finish setting the table. The boy groaned but went to do as he'd been asked when he was pinned with 'the mother look', which this woman had seemingly mastered.
"My name is Angela, Angie for short," she introduced herself as she drew me toward the dinner table and closer to the wonderful scents in the air, "and this is his father, James, but everyone calls him Jim."
A tall 50ish man stood up from where he'd been sitting at the table playing a handheld video game and offered his hand, "Good to meet you, Jonah," he said. I could tell already that this was a man of few words.
"Well," Angie announced, "the food is ready whenever you all are. Put the game down, Jim."
It was such a motherly thing to say to a grown man that I nearly laughed. Reluctantly Dan's father put it aside and began to pile spaghetti onto my plate as the bread was offered to me.
Dinner that night was amazing. His mother had made garlic bread and salad, and the sauce was like nothing I'd ever had before. Dan was right. It was a treat. I had three helpings before I was finally too full to eat more.
Throughout dinner it had been difficult to have a conversation with anyone because Freddie was a little chatterbox, firing questions off and continuing to speak before getting a full answer, which I admitted to myself I found a little annoying although I kept a smile on my face. As quiet as Dan's father was, his youngest son made up for even though he'd been told several times by his mother to 'Hush up and eat, Fred.'
Despite the rapid and seemingly endless talk from his little brother, the kid managed to put away two plates full of spaghetti and bread nearly as quickly as he spoke. The boy finished off his food and quickly got up, preparing to leave the table.
"Fred put your dishes in the washer, then you can go upstairs and play your video game," his mother announced, only to be met with another groan of protest and the beginning of what looked like tears.
"If you don't help, you can't play your game. Your choice," his mother said in a matter of fact tone, "and the longer you moan and complain the longer it'll be before you can play it." Then she turned to Dan and myself and said, "Why don't the two of you go on into the living room and turn the TV on. I'll bring dessert and coffee in."
I was about to explain that I was stuffed when Dan said with an excited gleam in his eyes, "Mom found nonnie's recipe for cheesecake, believe me you'll have room for it." His words turned out to be very true. The cake itself was light and the fresh strawberries on top were sweet. I managed two slices before I once again was too full to put in anything else. The coffee was strong but good. I noticed that Dan drank iced tea, "I can't stand coffee," he explained briefly as he looked at his watch and checked the time. He was the only man I knew who still wore a wristwatch, and as I thought about it, I realized that I'd never seen him use a cell phone like most people.
I was only vaguely aware of it when his little brother, who had finished helping in the kitchen, thundered up the stairs to continue with his game with a plate and fork which I rightly assumed contained a piece of the cheesecake as his mother yelled up after him.
I leaned in to speak confidentially to Daniel and asked, "Does she always do that? Make Freddie do all the cleaning?"
Dan chuffed a laugh. "No, he hardly does anything. Mom's trying to get him used to helping around the house."
I could feel my eyebrows go up in surprise but then I had to grin. We'd had much the same problem in our house when I'd been growing up.
Dan turned to the correct channel just as the documentary was beginning. Even though I was a history buff, my interests centering mostly on World Wars I and II, I found it to be as enthralling as Dan did. I could understand his fascination with it, and the popcorn which his mother had made went almost uneaten as I was drawn into the events unfolding on the screen.
After the documentary was over, Dan and I sat for a long time, talking about what we'd seen and heard. I found out that it wasn't just the Civil War but history in general that Dan was interested in, and knew quite a lot about. Somehow the conversation turned to the Renaissance period, which he was also well versed in.
I found it to be a wonderful experience, to have Dan open up to me about his interests and sharing his knowledge with me. I found myself loving him even more just for the animation in his voice, his exuberance while speaking, the sparkle in his grey-blue eyes.
"I'd like to go to another Renaissance fair," he said, "we went to one last summer and it was a lot of fun. I asked mom to make me a costume for next time, but she said she wasn't sure if we could afford the materials, or how we'd get there. My aunt drove us last time but we can't keep asking her to do that. Sometimes I wish we had our own car." Everything had been said in such a matter of fact manner that I nearly missed the last thing he said.
It was only then that I realized that there hadn't been a car in the driveway when I'd parked. I had just assumed that it had been in their freestanding garage or even out being serviced. It had never occurred to me that there could be anyone out there who didn't have one.
"How about if I bring you this year?" I asked.
Dan was suddenly quiet.
"What's wrong, Dan?" I asked, worried that I might have said something wrong, "we don't have to go if you don't want to."
"Mom and Freddie liked the fair last time too... would you be... willing to..." he stammered, looking very uncomfortable.
I realized then that Dan and his mother were very close, and that there were just some things he was hesitant to share with anyone else. I knew then that if I took Dan and his mother that I'd also have to take the Chatterbox, as I'd become to think of him with fondness, now that he wasn't in the same room talking a mile a second.
"Of course they can come along," I smiled, "there's plenty of room in my car for everyone. What about your dad?"
"I'm not sure if he'd have the day off from work or not. Or if he'd even want to go. The Renaissance is something that mom and I share, the music, the culture..."
Jonah smiled then, "Of course we can all go. I think it would be a lot of fun, and honestly, I can't wait to go with you. You can tell me about all of the things I don't know."
Dan smiled and then as though he'd been talking about it the entire time he asked, "Do you want to go to my room? I'd like to show you my library."
I chuckled as a thought came to me and Dan's smile disappeared somewhat as he said, "We don't have to," he added, sounding just a little upset.
At first I didn't understand the sudden change in his mood, then I realized that he might have thought that I was laughing at him, so I explained patiently, "Dan, there's an old cliche that I just thought of, that's what made me laugh, not anything pertaining to you personally."
"Cliche?"
"It's just an old thing, I'm not even sure where it came from, but when someone was trying to lure another person to their room for," I hesitated a moment because I wasn't sure how he'd take the meaning behind it, "well," I hedged, "for less than noble reasons, they would ask if the other person would like to go to their bedroom to 'see their etchings' or paintings or some other thing, just anything to get them to go into the bedroom with them. I know that's not why you asked me," I added hastily, seeing his face stiffen up somewhat, "it's just an old joke that I thought of. I'd love to see your library, if you still want to share it with me," I finished lamely. I wondered to myself if I'd already managed to mess things up with him. I knew that he wasn't one to trust easily and I didn't want to be the one to lose his.
His features relaxed somewhat and he led me upstairs and to the room on the left.
"Wow, I've never seen wallpaper like that before," I grinned.
"Wallpaper?" Dan asked, confused.
I looked again and realized that it wasn't wallpaper at all. It was, for all intents and purposes, a library. Shelves had been custom built, and every shelf was full of books. As I looked around I noticed that there were books piled on the floor and by his bedside table as well. The space that wasn't taken up by his bed held an easel with his latest painting on it.
Self consciously he began to take the painting down.
"I'd love to see it, Dan. If you don't mind, that is."
He hesitated for several moments before slowly turning the canvas toward me so that I could see it.
There, suspended in the center of the canvas, was a figure that definitely looked like an angel, wings flared, using a golden tipped spear to fight a black dragon while streaks of sunlight pierced the clouds above as though lending the angel extra power to defeat the serpent. I leaned down a little to take a closer look. I turned toward Dan with a smile, "This is really good."
"You think so? I know it's kind of abstract..."
"Yeah, this is really good... the painting style reminds me a little of Monet."
"Monet?"
I thought for a moment before replying, "Dabs of colors that create the subject of the painting, rather than just doing what I do, which is drawing a picture and then trying to shade it. Did you do all of this freehand?" I asked, turning once again to admire the angel on the canvas.
"Yes," he replied softly, "so, you really think it's good?"
"Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, believe me. I can't be the only one who has told you that," I replied, smiling.
"No," he replied uncertainly, "but I always think they're just saying that to be nice."
Looking around, I saw a stack of canvases against a wall. "May I see some more?"
"Ummm, maybe later, ok?" he replied uncertainly before a mischievous little smile appeared on his lips, "I brought you up here to show you my... etchings... remember?"
I blinked in surprise, which he seemed to find amusing if the twinkle in his grey-blue eyes was anything to go by. Finally, I grinned back, "Brat," I said fondly, "ok, let's see your library."
As he showed me book after book I found myself astounded, not only by the sheer number but by the incredible variety of subjects, fiction, nonfiction, autobiographies, biographies, many volumes on history, several bibles, science fiction, fantasy, quite a few very definitely antiques, first editions which I handled carefully. As I picked up one of his bibles, which I recognized as the book he'd been taking notes from just the other day, a piece of paper fell out.
I picked it up and read it with some difficulty because his printing was a bit on the messy side, but the message it conveyed went straight to my heart.
Life never lasts forever
As I go down times river
I am not afraid of the swordsmen in front of me
Ready to take me away forever more
Rather I fear the ropes and chains behind
"Dan," I said quietly, "this is... really beautiful."
He obviously hadn't noticed me reading the poem until I spoke because once he saw me with it his face turned red and he moved to take it away from me. I could see that his hand was shaking slightly and once again he wouldn't look directly at me.
"I'm sorry," he replied, the animation gone from his voice once again, "I never meant for anyone to see that."
Initially, I wanted to keep it from his hand and put it into my pocket, but I also knew that I didn't have the right to do so. I took his shaking hand and placed the paper carefully so that it wouldn't tear.
"Dan," I said quietly, "it really is a beautiful piece of poetry. It just fell out of the book."
He didn't reply but took the paper and folded it as small as he could and threw it into a drawer.
"I'm sorry," I began.
"It's my fault," he said, still blushing furiously.
To change the subject I said, "I write a bit of poetry myself. I've never shared it with anyone either. If you'd like, I'll bring one of mine with me the next time we see each other. We can share that way, alright?"
He looked at me dubiously and I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I promise. I think that we can learn a lot about each other this way. What do you say?"
"I guess," he replied uncertainly, turning his gaze once again to the wood floor of his bedroom, "I'll have to find where I put them all."
Inwardly I sighed with relief, I'd been afraid once again that I might have scared him away.
Slowly and gently, so that I wouldn't startle him, I took him by the shoulders and turned him toward me, tilting my head down so that I could see his face better despite the fact that he was still looking down at the floor.
"Dan," I said gently, "Daniel... you never have to worry about me judging, laughing... I'm not a mean person, and I truly care for you. All I want is for you to be happy, and comfortable... especially with me. I promise that I'll never intentionally do anything to hurt or upset you, and if I do, I want you to feel free to tell me. OK?"
He quickly glanced up before turning his eyes down once more and I could feel his shoulders go up in a slight shrug.
"I mean it, hon," I continued quietly, "I hope that the more we get to know each other the more you can learn to trust me. I understand that you've had a difficult time in the past. I just want you to know that when I say that I'm here for you, I mean it. You can tell me anything. And when you feel comfortable enough with me to do that, I'll be here, alright?"
" 'K," he replied in a soft voice.
"Is it alright if I give you a hug, Dan?" I asked gently.
He glanced up again from beneath his fair lashes, this time with a shy smile, and nodded. I gathered him up and held him. My heart leapt with joy when I felt his arms go around my waist and he laid his head against my chest. He didn't seem to be in any rush to let go so I laid my cheek on the top of his head. His hair was so soft, and I could smell the scent of his shampoo.
I don't know how long we stood there like that but we were startled by the sound of someone softly clearing their throat from the doorway.
Dan let go quickly as though we'd been caught doing something more than just hugging, and he was blushing furiously once more as his mother smiled at us. I couldn't help but notice that she had the same, sweet smile as her son.
"I'm sorry to bother you guys, but Dan, it's after ten and you have to get up at 5 for work tomorrow," she said apologetically.
" 'K," he replied quietly, still blushing though the intensity of the color had faded somewhat.
Without another word, his mother turned and went back downstairs.
I was surprised when he took me by the hand and we followed in his mother's footsteps. Neither his parents or his little brother were in sight. We stopped at the door where he helped me put my jacket on, even going so far as to zip it up for me.
When he finally looked at me, I saw another of his sweet smiles. "Goodnight, Jonah," he said quietly as he held out his hand for me to shake.
I grinned back at him and took his hand. "Goodnight, Daniel. Sweet dreams."
He opened the door for me and watched to make sure I made it to the car safely. He waited until he heard the engine start then with a final wave and a smile he closed the door. I drove away with a huge grin on my face, and a full feeling in my heart.
I knew definitely that this was the man for me, and I looked forward to the next time I would be able to see him.
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