9781644284339_EPUB by Tepper Julian

Author:Tepper, Julian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rare Bird Books
Published: 2024-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

16

Appetites

Nadia and Celia came in from the art studio just minutes before dinner, both in good spirits. Dom and I had polished off over half a liter of vodka and were doing quite well ourselves.

“Would you like a drink?” I said to Nadia.

“No, no, I’ve given it up,” she said.

“I’m so sorry. You already told us that.”

“Oh no, don’t be sorry,” said Nadia. “I forget sometimes myself.”

“Where’s Waylon?” said Celia. Her hands had only a little paint on them. She was a very neat painter, Celia, precise and neat. I had never once seen her emerge from the studio looking like some abstract expressionist after a war with a few gallons of paint.

“Hopefully upstairs in his bed. I’ll go check.” I stood up, teetering. “I’ll be back.”

The child was still asleep. Though exhausted myself, I reckoned that it would be rude to turn in now. It was the first night in Rabka—our first meal with Nadia—and I had to take part and show my host some respect. It was only ten after eight, besides. I should stay up and continue to adjust to the new time zone.

When I returned to the dining table, Nadia, Dom, and Celia were all laughing.

“My Dominika is like a wild animal,” said Nadia. “You have to be firm with her or she’ll claw out your eyes. Some days we have to give her a big cut of steak. She has such an appetite,” Nadia howled.

“Speaking of appetites, I’m famished,” said Celia.

“Let’s eat,” said Nadia. Dom had prepared the dinner, chicken and vegetables and potatoes, which sat in large serving bowls on the kitchen counter. “Quickly, Celia, help yourself before Dom devours it all. She’s a beast, so hungry for meat. Beware, any kind will do.”

“Okay, all right,” said Dom. The suit jacket was off. She was wearing a floral apron over her clothes. “I’m not amused. Everyone give your attention over to your stomachs and let’s stop discussing mine.”

After dinner, Celia and I retired for the night. Celia wanted a good night’s rest ahead of a long day of painting, and I had to wake at dawn and work before anyone else was up. I checked on Waylon one last time before shutting ourselves into our bedroom. At one moment, we were discussing how tired we were, but at the next we were having sex. Lying in each other’s arms afterward, Celia said:

“I’m so happy.”

“Me, too.”

“Come closer,” she said, “as close as you can.”

We pressed our bodies together as tight as we could and eventually fell asleep, clinging to one another.

My alarm clock went off at 5:00 a.m., and I shot out of bed. Walking through the grass with my laptop under my arm, a mug of hot coffee in my hand and only the moonlight to brighten my path, I saw the writing studio straight ahead of me. I threw open the door and flipped on a light. Now I would really look at this room. It was a beauty, with a harmony there between the large picture windows and the wood and the books, the thousands of books.

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