Loving David (7 page)

Charlotte didn’t realize she was holding her breath. Did he have any idea how beautiful he was? The long graceful fingers, juicy red lips, and glossy black hair that always seemed to fall into those green eyes at the sexiest of angles. She realized, as usual, he was looking her directly in the eye, hanging, it seemed, on her every word. She straightened up.

“Santa Monica.”

What kind of kisser was he? With lips like those he couldn’t be bad. Was he hard and passionate or slow and sexy? Charlotte felt herself start to tingle and took a drink to cool down. She caught a chunk of ice in her mouth. “Tell me about your parents,” she garbled through the ice.

David grew quiet; the only sound was him swirling the ice around in his glass. “Well, my dad, Hugh, died when I was ten.”

Charlotte nodded. “I remember you mentioned that at dinner last night. What happened?”

“Heart attack in his sleep.” David snapped his fingers. “Just like that. Dead at forty-five.”

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

“My mum, Frances, never stopped crying. She was just so sad. She tried to soldier on, but there were too many memories of Dad in England. So she packed me up, and off to New York we went.”

“Why New York?”

“She had spent a summer there when she was at university and loved it. It seemed like the perfect place to make a fresh start. We used to call ourselves the ‘Two Musketeers’, taking on this brave new world. We had only each other.”

“Sounds like you two are close.”

David nodded, his eyes misting over. “Were. She died from breast cancer right after my first film came out.”

Charlotte reached out and rested her hand on top of David’s. He gave it a quick squeeze.

“What do you remember about your dad?” Charlotte asked.

David let out a sigh, his mind shifting back to happier days. “Gosh. There are so many things.” David held his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “He used to read me a bedtime story every night. Sometimes we’d share a strawberry jam sandwich and bottle of ginger ale after kicking the football around on Sunday afternoons. Soccer, I guess you call it. One of my favorite memories is going to Piccadilly Circus. You’ve heard of it?”

Charlotte nodded, “Yes, but I don’t know too much about it”.

“Well, it’s a lot like Times Square in New York, if that helps. People, lights, shops all jammed into one another like bumper cars out of control. Anyway, we’d hop on the tube every Saturday, and Dad would buy me a little tin of jelly babies from the candy shop inside the station. We’d go into the listening booth of his favorite record shop, and he’d put these massive headphones on me, sound shooting out of each ear and filling up my little body with music. He played me his favorite singers; mostly American soul. Lots of Motown, Otis Redding, Sam Cooke, Aretha Franklin. Oh, gosh, he was mad for her. Funny enough, he wasn’t much of a Beatles fan.”

“Really? I thought everyone loved the Beatles.”

“No; he was much more of a Stones man.” He leaned back in his chair and gave her one of his intense gazes. “What about your family?”

Charlotte’s cleared her throat.

“Um--- well, both of my parents are also dead. My dad had a series of strokes and was gone within a few months. In less than a year my mom was gone too. The official ruling was ‘natural causes’ but it was of a broken heart, if you ask me.”

“That’s terrible.”

Charlotte gave him a wry grin before she continued. “They were in their seventies, married fifty years. They were told they could never have children, so they were pretty surprised when I came along.”

“An
ah-ha
! baby.”

“Precisely. They spoiled me rotten, treated me like a total princess. But it was all because they loved me so much, and for that I’m grateful.”

“That’s tough they went so close together.”

“Yes and no. They were extremely devoted to each other ---- never spent a day apart their entire marriage. They used to joke that when one went, the other one would follow. Every night at dinner my mom would ask, ‘How was your day, Joe?’ and he would say “Boy, Marie, it was hard because I sure did miss you.’ And she’d always respond ‘and I missed you, too.’” Charlotte chuckled. “It was their little running joke. They had a lot of those. I used to think it was corny, but as I got older I realized how sweet it was. It’s my favorite childhood memory of them.”

“It sounds like I would’ve liked them.” David said.

“You would have. Everyone who knew them loved them.” Charlotte leaned forward. “Your parents sound amazing. I wish I could have met them.” She took another mouthful of ice. “Did your mother ever find love again?”

David shook his head, his voice foggy. “No…she never did. When she got the cancer diagnosis, she was eerily calm. I asked her why she wasn’t more upset. I mean I was ready to tear the doctor’s office apart if it meant I’d find a cure. She just told me she would fight it but that if she lost the battle, at least she could be with my father again. She seemed to miss him more as time went on, though she put on a brave face for me.”

“Our parents sound similar,” Charlotte said quietly.

“Yeah. Like kindred spirits or something.” David swallowed the last of his drink and looked at her glass. “Want another one?”

“Only if I want to show up drunk at dinner.”

David took their glasses and rinsed them in the sink. “Good point. Okay then, let’s wait until dinner to have another.” They started to walk to the door. “What do you suppose the topic of conversation will be tonight?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we could start a topic. If you really want to get them going, we can discuss the pay difference between NBA players and teachers,” she giggled.

“Oh no, don’t do that. Because then they may bring up overpaid actors, and I rather like being an overpaid actor.”

Charlotte laughed.

#

As they walked to dinner they met up with Angela and Hendra.

“Well hello you two,” Hendra purred. “Hungry I hope?”

David smiled. “Indeed. I was so engrossed in reading a script, I skipped lunch completely.” He winked at Charlotte, who just shook her head. David held the door to the dining room open, where only mild chaos was underway. Karen was on dinner duty, which usually resulted in madness of some kind. Woman ran back and forth from the kitchen brandishing pots, plates, platters, and glasses.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” David asked.

“Yes, save your energy for afterward. You and Charlotte are on clean up tonight. After Karen’s been in there, who knows what you might find,” Angela remarked with a husky chuckle.

Karen had embarked on a hearty coq au vin with a simple green salad and loaves of crispy French bread. They all ladled soup into their bowls and piled their plates high with salad and bread before sitting down. Karen bustled out of the kitchen, her white apron stained with various smears of food and sauce. Her face was flushed and little wisps of hair were plastered to her neck. She leaned between Charlotte and David. “I’ll apologize ahead of time for the kitchen. It’s really bad.”

Charlotte let out a dramatic gasp. “Really, Karen? I’m shocked. It’s not like I wasn’t in the kitchen all night cleaning up after you the last time.”

“Ha ha,” Karen responded. “Listen, when you’re creating a masterpiece, it’s gonna get a little messy.”

“Well, it is delicious,” Charlotte allowed. She looked at David. “It’s possible we could be in there until tomorrow.”

Under the table, Karen pinched Charlotte, who yelped.

Karen turned to David. “Do you know how to do dishes, hon?”

“How about you give me a lesson after dinner?”

“Ha! Not on your life. Nice try.”

Karen left to get her own food. The ladies seemed less star-struck by David as conversations centered on more mundane topics such as grandkids and dog walking services. After a few moments, one of the ladies, Sally, stood and clinked her fork against her wine glass to get everyone’s attention. A hush fell over the room as they waited for her to address the group.

“I have a subject to discuss tonight…men, romance, and marriage” Sally stated, a triumphant look on her face.

Murmurs of complaint and even a few loud protests sprang from the room. Sally held up her hands to quiet everyone.

“Now, now. Hear me out,” she continued. “We have a man here with us tonight, and although young, maybe he can shed some light on the subject. Perhaps tell us the truth about how men really feel about marriage, romance, and relationships in general.”

David’s fork was in mid-air when all eyes turned toward him; it was clear he was caught off guard by Sally’s declaration.

“Sally, come on now. That’s not fair.” Charlotte said. “David’s our guest and---”

David held up his hand to stop Charlotte.

“No, no. It’s okay. You have all been so nice to me, so I owe you one.” David took a sip of water and cleared his throat before he continued. “So how do men feel about romance and marriage? Well, I have never been married, so I can’t speak to that, but I can tell you I believe in it. I believe in a partnership in love, life, and romance. I think romance is the battery that keeps the relationship charged, if you will. The reason men act callous about romance is to give the appearance of being manly or macho, but personally I think that deep inside men love it; the thrill of being able to make a woman melt. They love the excitement of having a woman make them feel alive. I can’t speak for all men, but I know the thought of being
in love
is exciting for me
.
I personally have never been in love. I’ve been in
like
…I’ve been in
lust
, which I had confused for love at one time, but I know now for sure it was lust. The possibility of finding love one day excites me; gives me something to look forward to. Whoever she is, I look forward to getting to know her, and I can’t wait to meet her.”

Once David finished his speech, smiles beamed on the faces of some women as they gleaned more insight not only about men but about David. Others looked contemplative as they reflected on their own past loves. The room was silent.

Hendra piped up. “Being that you could probably have any woman you wanted --- and probably have….” a few women tittered and David chuckled, “…how do you know if someone truly loves you? How would you know if she was really there for you or just with you because of who you are?” Hendra asked, genuine concern furrowing her brow.

Charlotte and David stole a quick glance at each other, the memory of their earlier conversation still on both their minds.

“I would hope I could get to know a person well enough to be able to see true love for me in her eyes. I chose this life knowing there would be sacrifices; maybe that’s one of the sacrifices. Will I be absolutely sure that the one who says she loves me really does and not for my money or fame? But doesn’t
everyone
wonder ‘does this person really love
me
?’ I just have to hope that I will be blessed to find the person who loves me for me and that I can grow old with and be with her… until the end,” David said as he shoved a piece of bread into his mouth.

Karen looked at Charlotte, who was looking at David. She snickered to herself as she picked up her glass of wine. “Well, David dear, I hope you find the person you are looking for. Just make sure you let us know when you do, because we want all the juicy details!”

Emma leaned over and touched David’s hand. “Honey, you don’t have to look, because I’m sitting right here. My end is coming a lot sooner than yours, but I can promise you that you will enjoy it while it lasts!”

“I have no doubt,” David laughed. “You really are too much for me, Emma.”

“You don’t know the half of it. But if you want to find out,” she winked, “you let me know.” David kissed Emma’s hand and in spite of all her cool come-on’s she blushed.

Charlotte marveled at the scene in front of her and was proud and happy she’d been able to give David this opportunity. Dinner marched on with stories of first dates, bad dates, blind dates, and dates that never should have been. The entire group was in stitches the whole night, and David took his fair share of teasing from the ladies. However, he gave as good as he got, and Charlotte could see that he enjoyed the ladies as much as they enjoyed him.

David’s words about love stirred in Charlotte’s head as she observed him talking and laughing with everyone. Her insides felt tight, and her breath raced a little. She couldn’t fight it; she was falling for him in a big way. The realization made her feel foolish and excited at the same time.

People began to trickle out of the dining room but not before offering Charlotte and David their condolences on having clean-up duty. They waited until they were alone before venturing to the kitchen. David poked his head in first and let out a low whistle. “Oh dear. It’s like Armageddon in there. Run…Save yourself,” David joked.

Charlotte peered around him and gasped. “Holy crap. Let’s just burn it down.”

Greasy pots and pans and crusty dishes were stacked almost to the ceiling. Food was splattered across the walls and the floor, and it looked like the chicken may well have exploded all over the stove.

Charlotte clamped her hand across her forehead and groaned. “I’ve never seen it this bad,” She muttered. “I mean, this is ridiculous.” Her arms dropped to her sides. “I’m not even sure where to start.”

David took on the task of filling the sink with hot water, the bubbles from the dishwashing liquid floating up and across the room. “Oh, come on. Teamwork!” David winked. “We’ll get it done.” David started to bring dishes over to the sink as Charlotte wearily grabbed a sponge and began to scrub plates.

“Hey,” Charlotte turned and saw David taking down an old transistor radio from atop the refrigerator. “I don’t remember the last time I saw one of these,” David said as he searched for the power button.

Charlotte laughed. “Probably belongs to Hendra. She’s quite averse to technology. She’s one of those stubborn souls who still use typewriters.”

“Eww.”

“Yeah.”

David found the knob to turn the radio on, and sound crackled out of the lone, battered speaker like crinkled paper. David frowned and fiddled with the tuner until he came across an oldies station. Martha and the Vandellas struggled to tell them about “Dancing in the Streets.” David pulled out the antenna and wound it around a few times until the sound pushed through clear as a bell.