back at the doorstep

chapter 9

 

 

The restaurant was French. The meal was decadent. The flowers were hothouse. The band was decent. The clothes were designer.

“I felt like a dork.” Mira said as they entered the cab.

Elijah cocked his head to the side. “Why? You look beautiful. And you weren’t the one that mispronounced your entire meal.”

“It’s not that.” She tucked some strands that had come loose of her up-twist. “It just...” She sighed and looked off to study the cracks on the fake leather.

Elijah’s heart dove down to his guts. “Did it feel too serious, Mira? Because, you know, if you’re not comfortable with this, I can understand and–“

“No!” Mira grabbed his hands. “No, it’s not that. I just... I was hoping you might have, erm, softened Papa up to the idea already.”

“If Billy picked up on it, you’d think he would.” Elijah laughed, an uncomfortable sound.

“I hate that we’re sneaking around like this.”

Jamming one hand in his pocket, Elijah stretched the other behind Mira’s shoulders, the bumps and curves of his arm fitting perfectly in the hollows and curves of her body. Christ, that felt good. “We weren’t sneaking around. We said we were going out to dinner. We were both dressed up. Do we need to hold up neon signs?”

“Yes!” Mira laughed. She rested her head on his shoulder, a sigh escaping her lips. He smelled like lavender from staying over their house for so long but also of his cologne, musky and fresh, and very faintly of the roast and merlot he’d had for dinner. She took in another deep breath.

“What are you doing?” he asked, half-chuckling.

“I’m smelling you.” She buried her nose in his tie.

“Hey! That tickles!” He curled to one side tyring to hold her at bay but keep her in his arms at the same time. “Smelling me? What am I, a cantaloupe?”

“No.” Mira took one last deep sniff before leaning away with a happy sigh. “You smell right.”

His chuckles became full-blown. “I what?”

“You smell right.”

“I should hope so. I had to fight CJ for the hot water.”

“No, no, no.” Tugging lightly on the textured tie, Mira elaborated. “You could’ve just come from the gym and you’d still smell right. Not that I’d want to smell you then. It’s... it’s just a quirk I have and I can’t really explain it. You think I’m daft, don’t you?”

The cab eased to a stop in front of the house.

Elijah was silent for a while. “I think you’re fantastic.” He felt the smoothness of her cheek with his knuckles, brushed aside a blonde strand from her lips.

Hand in hand, they walked up the winding slate path through the small front garden, half-leaning against each other, quiet yet content in the silence. When, at the door, they paused before knocking, it seemed to be the most natural thing for them to reach for each other and share a first kiss.



Billy and Jill traded knowing looks as he re-entered the living room with a bottle of zinfandel in hand. Setting the chilled drink on the coffee table between the two couches, Billy gave Orlando his biggest grin. It was quite frightening to see all those teeth.

“So, Orli,” Billy said, “Where did Lij an’ Mira go fer dinner?”

“Coutre, that new place near the theatre district.” Orlando poured the sweet, light drink into their goblets.

“Billy’s still got to take me there.” Jill took up her goblet and took a healthy swig. “I usually don’t like French food but the atmosphere seems so nice and romantic.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Taking both his glass and CJ’s, Orlando leaned back to swing an arm around his wife’s shoulders exactly. “I’ve got to take CJ there, too, one day. As soon as I can convince her to wear a dress.”

CJ snorted. “I wore one on our wedding; you can’t ask for anything more than that.”

“True.” He nodded, sipping thoughtfully on his drink. “I can always take comfort in the knowledge that you’ve got naughty undies on, I suppose.”

“Of course, to match yours.”

Jill put a hand to her heart. “You know what’s really sick, Ceej? The way you speak with such a pretty little voice but the words that come out are evil.”

“Why, thank you, Jillian, darling.” CJ batted her eyes. “You say such kind things. I’m sure I don’t deserve half of them.” She stopped, shook her head. “No, no. I do. Sorry. Momentary twinge of conscience.”

Rolling his eyes, Orlando commented, “Thank goodness Mira had Elisa to safeguard her against bad influences like CJ’s homicidal tendencies and Jill’s toilet mouth.”

“Yeah, she’s grown up real well.” Jill smiled, her gaze going a bit far. “I hope to God my girls do the same.”

“She actually reminds me of Lij at that age.” Billy nodded slightly as though searching his memory. “Remember when we first met him, Orli? Right off of the plane from LA to Aukland?”

“Un-bloody-forgettable.” Orlando crossed his angle over a knee, shifting so that CJ’s arms wouldn’t get crushed. “Here I was bracing myself to meet some spoilt Hollywood brat and I meet an eighteen year-old going on forty.”

CJ was tracing figure-eights on Orlando’s thigh but her look was straight on at the couple across the table. “Yeah, he’s a different one.”

Jill shifted her eyes briefly at the door and back at her best friend who nodded ever so slightly. She then squeezed Billy’s arm. He sighed, relieved. Another one on their team.

“In fact,” continued CJ, “the only thing he’s ever completely fucked up on is Sophia.”

“Hey, that wasn’t all his fault,” protested Orlando when the other two instantly agreed. “He honestly tried to make it work out. He’s the one that wanted to go to marriage counselling, the one that was making all the concessions. It’s not his fault she wanted a Hollywood marriage.”

“They shouldn’t’ve have gone out in the first place,” Billy pointed out.

“Oh, for the love of...” Orlando threw his friend a disgusted look. “I was with Megan at the time, you were married, Dom was getting married... can you blame him for getting lonely? We did almost everything together and all of a sudden everyone was going off in directions unknown. Hell, it was probably part of the reason I became serious with Meg.”

“The fact remains that he shouldn’t’ve just gone with the flow,” Billy pointed out.

“Elijah would have made a great husband to Sophie,” said Orlando resolutely. “She just wasn’t the one for him.”

“True.” Patting her husband’s leg, CJ said, “As soon as Lij finds the one he’ll be happy with, he’ll know it.”

“Of course he will. We’ll all know--“ Orlando started. “I think I hear them coming over now.” He checked his watch as he rose. “Bloody early. Weren’t they supposed to catch a film, too?”

CJ’s stomach did a funny little flip a nanosecond before Orlando turned the knob. “Wait!”

The most horrible times of Orlando’s life always happened in slow motion. To this day, he swore that the fall that broke his back took seven hours, that the phone call that ended his first serious relationship had rings that made Big Ben’s gongs seem tinny, that the recess the judge took before letting him sign the adoption papers was at least a week long. He should have known when took him five minutes to turn the doorknob that he wouldn’t like what was on the other side. But he couldn’t stop.

The light on the porch flickered; he recalled promising to change it that morning. It cast a ghastly yellow tone to everything it touched, making them look sallow, sick. The neighbour who worked nights at the hospital started up her engine; it took two tries before the spark caught and her husband asked her to come home an hour early to help him see the kids off. Elijah’s fingernails were still bitten to the quick, one finger that had been smashed during the accident stuck up stiffly while the rest cradled Mira’s chin. There was a gravy stain on his left cuff. Mira’s hair was coming out of its twist; she’d always had a hard time styling it, which was why more often than not she kept it in a ponytail. Her dress was just the type of style that Jill eschewed but CJ loved: black, sleek, simple with a bit of a decorative sari-cloth trim at the hem. A fly buzzed across his field view close enough for him to feel the wind generated by its wings. Mira had her arms wrapped around Elijah’s waist, her callused hands grasping handfuls of polyester-cotton blend. The suit was vintage by today’s standards but when Lij bought it years ago, it was haut couture. His other hand was buried in her hair. Maybe that was the real reason it was coming undone. Elijah’s lashes were longer than Mira’s. They brushed against her eyelids as he kissed her, swept from side to side as he moved his lips against hers and she tilted her chin up and to the side to fit her mouth better against his, the silky material of her dress rasping against his rougher textured trousers, their breathing momentarily stalled, their noses rubbing, hands grasping, bodies shivering against a sudden gust of winter wind that whipped Mira’s full-length coat around Elijah’s knees, skins flushing, tongues tasting--

Next thing Orlando knew, he was being dragged off Elijah’s curled body. Billy had his arm twisted up around his back. CJ and Jill were both pushing him away, away from that lousy, good for nothing piece of shit that had his hands on his daughter. Mira kneeled over Elijah, yelling something at him but he couldn’t understand her past the roaring in his ears.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Orlando struggled against his captors but Billy knew his pressure points well. He pinched something. Orlando’s knees buckled.

“Orli, calm down!” CJ tried to grab his face but he wrenched away, breathing hard.

“Let me go! I’m going to... Christ, I’ll tear his fucking head off!”

“Stop it!” Billy yelled. “God dammit, Orli!”

“You utter shit!” Orlando heaved his body again. They heaved back. “I fucking trusted you, you bloody, buggering--“ His mind shut down once more. Nothing came out except for growls.

“Papa, please.” Mira crouched between her father and Elijah. “Please.”

“You go to your room!” roared Orlando.

“Papa–“

“Go to your fucking room and don’t bloody leave until I bloody well tell you to!”

Orlando!” Jill smacked his chest. “Listen to yourself.”

“Orli--“ began Elijah, a hand cupped over his rapidly blackening eye.

Struggling in earnest once more, Orlando managed to get an arm free. He swung at Elijah who stepped away, pulling Mira to the side with him. “Get back here and let me hit you again!”

“No, Papa, please listen.”

“I said go to your room!”

“But–“

“Now!”

“Christ, Orli, will ye stop moving before I break yuir bloody arm?”

“Stop yelling at her!” Elijah stepped forward. “You’re mad at me, all right?”

Orlando sneered. “Mate, mad doesn’t begin to describe what I’m feeling. For fuck’s sake, let me go, I’m not going to fucking’ kill him with witnesses around.” He let his body relax ever so slightly.

“Are you going to punch him again?” CJ asked, her arms and shoulder still braced around Orlando’s chest.

“As soon as he stops hiding behind my daughter.”

Mira’s jaw dropped for a second. “That’s not fair,” she started to argue but Elijah took her hand.

“Look, you better go inside. I think your dad wants to talk to me alone.”

Jill snorted. “Yeah, and at the end of this talk, we’ll be driving you to the hospital. No way; I’m keeping my sweet, dimpled ass parked between the two of you.”

“I don’t want to talk to him,” Orlando declared. “The sooner he disappears, the better.”

Billy tightened his hold ever so slightly. “Now, Orli---”

“No, it’s okay, Billy.” Elijah looked at Orlando straight on, fighting the urge to shrink back from the blast of ice that came from the older man’s eyes. “Maybe I should stay at Ian’s for tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” CJ said before Orlando could open his mouth.

“I’ll get you a cab.” Jill sprinted for the phone.

CJ stepped back. Placing her palms on either of Orlando’s cheeks, she forced him to meet her eyes. “Orli.” He shifted his chin but she yanked his face back. “Orlando Bloom, promise me you won’t hurt him.” She eased her touch, turning the clench into a caress. “Promise me.”

He blinked. She took it as a yes. At her acquiescence, Billy turned Orlando’s arm loose. A full body shudder went over Orlando, his muscles taut with the exertion of holding back.

“Let’s go in, you guys,” CJ said softly, holding a hand out to Mira.

Billy let out a huff. “Ye’re kidding, right?” CJ dipped her head. “Okay, maybe not.” He started to clap Orlando on the shoulder but thought better of it; he obviously didn’t want to be touched right now.

The click of the door closing was remarkably close to a hammer slamming home in a pistol’s chamber. Orlando crossed his arms and stared at the street lamp with all his might.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Elijah spoked softly but unwaveringly. “I wasn’t even looking for it. It just happened.”

Boulders were more reactive.

“I love her, Orli. I really do.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I know you think it’s too early for me to know or... or that I’m wrong for her or that she probably doesn’t know enough about life to know about who she should fall in love with but... but dammit, Orlando, won’t you even fucking look at me?”

Still no reply.

Elijah sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. A cab rolled into the street, probably the same one that dropped him off.

“Don’t stay mad at Mira, please.” He took at step towards the statue that had recently been one of his best friends. “She’s smart, you know. Intelligent, not just book smart. And, Christ, she loves you so much! I’d die to have someone love me as much as she loves you, you know that? Even if I got half of what she feels for you, I’d consider myself the luckiest bastard on this planet.”

“You don’t deserve her.” The words were whispered but harsh.

Elijah opened his mouth to agree but found himself shaking his head instead. “Actually, I think you’re wrong. We deserve each other. We match. Like you and CJ. Ian and Nick. God help me, even Billy and Jillian.” He rolled his shoulders, sighed. “I’m going to go. I don’t care how long you stay pissed off at me but don’t go to sleep angry with Mira.”

The cab drove off, a black beast with the devil in its guts. Orlando shuddered again, this time from the sudden drain in adrenaline and the lactic acid build up in his muscles. He dropped to a crouch at the doorstep, letting his head fall to his hands, the balls of his palms digging into his eyes.

He didn’t know how many seconds or minutes or hours passed before Mira’s bare feet trod on the cold, wet slate, stopping in front of him. She sank to her knees and forced his arms open, not that it took too much strength. Crawling into the hollow his body formed, she laid her head on his chest and drew her knees up to her chin then draped his arms around her shoulders. Orlando hung on for dear life.

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