Opening one eye, I scan the cool, dark room to my left... nothing. Turning my face against the pillow, I repeat the drill with the other eye, rubbing the sleep from the outer corner... nothing. Danny's cologne still lingers in the air, and I smile inwardly as my hand glides over the perfect indentation that he left behind on his pillow. If I can't wake to his beautiful face next to mine, it is at least some consolation to be greeted by these little reminders of him that he leaves behind in his absence. I reach for the clock on my nightstand and turn it towards me. "Nine thirty-two," I say aloud, fighting back a residual yawn as I kick free of the bedcovers and swing my legs over the side of the mattress.
Standing in the doorway to the bathroom, I sigh heavily and run my fingers through my tangled curls before walking to the lavatory, recapping Danny's shaving cream and replacing his razor in the medicine cabinet as I do every morning. In the week since I moved into his room, I've learned that sharing the same space with Danny Santos is an ongoing exercise in compromise. I don't complain about having to put up his shaving paraphernalia, and in return, he says nothing about the makeup that I leave scattered across the countertop. To his credit... he always remembers to put the toilet seat back down.
Adjusting the faucets behind the shower curtain, I let the water reach the desired temperature as I fasten my hair to the top of my head with a clip and walk back into the room to retrieve my clothes. I stop at the window, tying back the heavy drapes so that I can see what the weather is like. "Perfect day for a barbecue," I say as the warm sun shines brightly against my skin, and I can't find one cloud in the blue sky. Walking to my bureau, I grab my red bikini, a button-up shirt, and a pair of denim cutoffs.
As I head back to the bathroom, my clothes clutched to my chest, I turn around and let my eyes skate over the room. Despite the fact that Danny has given me carte blanche to change the overtly masculine decor of the room, I have added only a few of my own accents. My jewelry box sits atop my nightstand next to an antique vase that belonged to my grandmother Bert. Danny has taken it upon himself to make sure that it is perpetually brimming with fresh flowers, and there is always at least one yellow rose tucked into the mix. My picture of Rick and Abby sits alongside that, skewed at an obtuse angle to appease Danny, who swore that when it faced forward, he could feel Rick's eyes boring into him while we made love.
Tucked inside the top drawer of my nightstand is my photo album, which I shared with Danny on the night that we discovered that we both love to eat in bed while we watch t.v. We reminisced until three in the morning that day, looking at the pictures that I've collected in the twenty-two years of my life, and through the magic of Kodak, I was even able to show him the beauty of mom's smiling face. 'You must look like the Bauers', he said, tracing a fingertip over her face. That prompted the discussion about dad and Claire and my adoption, and when the page was turned to a picture of Jesse, the explanation about mom's heart and how he and I met soon followed.
By that time, my uneasiness over Jesse's message from the night of the party had subsided. I had been so skittish for days, jumping every time the telephone rang, and when Olga walked into the house one day with her hands full of mail, telling me that I had a letter, I tore into it only to find the words, 'Your pap smear result was normal', written inside. And so I waited, checking the answering machine in my room every time Danny left the house, but there have been no more phone calls. To free my mind, I convinced myself that Jesse had been waxing nostalgic after a few too many drinks and when sobriety found him the next day, he regretted the call.
The roaring of the vacuum cleaner in the hallway transports me back to the present, and as I head to my awaiting shower, I smile as I let my eyes briefly drift to the fireplace. I prayed for an early fall on the night that Danny whispered to me that he couldn't wait to make love to me in front of a crackling fire. The painting that I gave him for his birthday now hangs above it, and atop the mantle is one of the pictures that Olga snapped just before we left for the charity gala. As I step underneath the steady stream of water that now runs cold, I realize why it is that I've brought so few items of my own into Danny's room. I want us to create new memories with one another and fill the room with things that we acquire together. I don't want to live in Danny's room... I want to live in our room.
Olga smiles sweetly as I emerge from the bedroom and close the door behind me, stepping gingerly in an attempt to avoid leaving the imprint of my sandals in the freshly vacuumed carpet. "Danny and Ray are in the courtyard getting things set up," she says before I even have a chance to ask where Danny is.
Smiling, I reply, "Happy Fourth of July, Olga," as I bound down the stairs. Despite the fact that Rick extended his invitation to the Bauer barbecue to Danny's entire family, Danny insists that just the two of us go. Ray has been left in charge of the Casa Santos festivities, and I can hear he and Danny arguing before I have even descended the last step. The smell of mesquite chips clings to the air as I step through the doors to the courtyard, and I can't suppress the laugh that escapes my throat when I see Danny squatting in front of the barbecue grill, adjusting the valve on the propane tank underneath.
Both men's eyes fall upon me as I step between them and place my hands on Danny's sweaty back. "Morning, Michelle," Ray says, smiling warmly as Danny sighs in frustration and returns to his work, his muscles flexing wildly underneath my fingers.
Rubbing calming circles across Danny's back, I say, "Hey, Ray," as my eyes drift down to the knobby knees poking out from under the cuffs of his shorts. Luckily for Ray, priests don't exactly spend a lot of time in shorts.
"What were the two of you arguing about?" I ask, looking at Ray and then down at Danny.
Staring at his hands, Ray answers, "I'm afraid that I don't know very much about barbecuing."
Standing up abruptly, and with his eyes trained on the flames licking at the charcoal briquettes, Danny spits, "Try nothing."
Shit. It feels like I've just instigated World War III. Trying to do some serious damage control, I pull on Danny's arm and turn him towards me, staring into his eyes as I say, "Let's all try to calm down and think pleasant thoughts, hmm?" Gently cradling his flushed cheeks in my hands, I bring his face down to mine and whisper, "Good morning, by the way," before lightly kissing his mouth.
I can feel his body relax under my touch, and he smiles against my lips as I back away. "Morning," he says, his eyes still fixated on my lips. "Did you sleep well?" I nod my head and lick my lips, teasing him. His fight with Ray forgotten, he says, "I'm going to go change my shirt and then we'll leave, ok?"
Nodding, I tell him, "I'll just go say good-bye to abuela." He hands the tongs to Ray, and I watch his retreating back until he leaves the courtyard. 'Thanks', Ray mouths, exhaling sharply, and I give him a little wink as I turn to head for abuela's room.
I knock softly and walk inside. "I'll be out in a minute," she yells from behind the closed bathroom door. An enormous smile spreads over my face as I plop down on her bed, thinking about the tremendous progress that she's made this past week. Regaining more and more of her independence, she rarely has to call for Olga's help anymore. Although she still can't walk for very long without getting winded, she is able to navigate the walker to the bathroom and vanity table where she now dresses herself and takes care of her own personal hygiene, both feats of gargantuan proportions considering how non-ambulatory she was just a month ago.
The door swings open, and I stand and watch proudly as she inches her way towards me. "Don't you look nice today," I say, pulling out the chair at her table as she tucks the edges of her yellow sun dress underneath her and sits.
Smiling, she reaches up to stroke my face and return the compliment. "As do you, dear."
I remove her hand from my face and hold it as I take a seat next to her. "Danny and I are about to leave, and I wanted to come and tell you good-bye before we left. Ray's out there now, starting lunch."
Wrinkling her brow, she whispers, "Oh dear. That boy knows only two ways to cook a burger... raw and burnt."
Feeling guilty, I offer, "You know... it's not too late for you and Olga and Ray to go with us. My brother invited all of you. They'll be plenty of food."
Patting my hand, she shakes her head 'no' and answers, "I shouldn't have worried you. Olga and I will keep an eye on Ray... we'll be fine." Visions of Ray burning down the house pop into my mind, and I briefly contemplate throwing a bucket of water into the grill in the courtyard. "Besides," she begins, waiting for my wandering mind to find its way back to reality. "Daniel wouldn't hear of us all going to your brother's house. I think he's nervous about being around your family on your turf," she finishes, her finger pressed to the wicked grin upon her lips.
We both burst into a fit of giggles, and when I finally catch my breath, I say, "I think you're right... he's been a nervous wreck since the weekend."
"Michelle?" Danny calls, his voice filled with anxiety as he knocks vigorously on the door. Speak of the devil.
My eyes stretch wide and I cup a hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter, and abuela does the same as I manage to choke out a feeble, "Huh?"
"I'll be waiting for you in the car. We need to get going... I don't want to be late," he says, and I listen to his heavy footsteps in the hall as he retreats to the front door.
Rolling my eyes and taking a deep breath as I stand and walk to the door, I turn and say, "Pray for us, abuela. I think this may turn out to be the longest day of my life." The unmistakable smell of burning beef fills my nostrils as I walk through the foyer to the front door. Sending a little prayer of my own heavenward for abuela and Olga's safety, I make a mental note to bring them back a bag of leftovers from our barbecue as I close the door behind me.
When I can no longer see the mansion in my side mirror, I ask, "Do you think it was wise to leave them alone with Ray?"
Smiling as he turns the air conditioning to full blast, Danny answers sarcastically, "I've got 911 programmed on speed dial."
I punch him playfully in the shoulder as we stop at a red light, and as I shift in my seat, something in the back catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. "What's all this?" I ask, pointing to an ice chest and a huge wicker basket, its contents wrapped in red, white, and blue wrapping paper.
Never tearing his eyes off of the road, he replies cryptically, "Supplies."
Hating to be kept in the dark, I turn on all of my feminine charms as I rub the inside of his bare thigh and lean into him, whispering in his ear, "For what?"
Clearing his throat as he removes my hand, he says, "You'll find out soon enough."
Folding my arms across my chest, a fake pout spreads over my lips as I face forward and whine, "Do you always have to be so mysterious, Danny?"
Smiling, he pats my knee and answers, "It's part of my charm."
I swat his hand away, barking out directions as we turn onto the sleepy, tree-shrouded street that leads into Rick and Abby's subdivision. "Yeah, well... it's losing its appeal real quickly, buddy," I share, and he flashes me a sexy grin that nearly takes my breath away.
"You're just mad because I know something that you don't know, and it's killing you," he insists, and I feign interest in a love bug that's stuck underneath the windshield wiper.
He's so right, but I'll be damned if I'll give him the satisfaction of hearing me admit it. Instead, I extend the tip of my index finger across the front of his chest, pointing to the mailbox on the left side of the street that reads 'The Bauers', and say in a voice dripping with sugary sweetness, "There it is, dear." Noticing only Rick and Abby's cars in the driveway, I add, "Looks like we're early after all." The thought of a possible confrontation between Danny and Rick pushes its way into my mind, and I can't prevent my stomach from twisting into nervous knots as we park.
Bypassing the front door, I lead him around the side of the house to the backyard, extending my hand to help when I see him struggling with the obviously heavy mystery 'supplies'. He shakes his head 'no' stubbornly, and I shrug my shoulders, saying indignantly, "Suit yourself." Rounding the corner, I have to stifle a laugh as the flag mounted to the side of the house is lifted by a gentle breeze, slapping him squarely in the face. "Come on," I chuckle as he lets out a pitiful groan, and I pry the basket's handle from his grip and curl my own hand around it, interlacing the fingers of our free hands.
I spot Rick hovering over the grill next to the pool, dad's dingy chef's hat securely atop his head and a ratty old apron that reads 'Kiss the Cook' tied around his neck and waist. I hate that the Fourth of July only happens once a year. Watching him squirt a ridiculous amount of lighter fluid onto the charcoal, I manage to rein in my laughter long enough to holler, "If you're not careful... you'll singe the hair off of your arms like you did last year." Smiling, he looks up from his work, and I give Danny's hand a reassuring squeeze as we walk towards him.
"Hey, sis," he whispers as we embrace, and I can smell the pungent odor of onions and garlic seeping from every pore in his skin. "Nice to see you again, Danny," he acknowledges over my shoulder, and I step back so that they can shake hands.
Putting his arm around my waist and pulling me against him, Danny locks eyes with Rick and says graciously, "I just want to thank you again for inviting me to spend the day with you and your family. It means a lot to me... I really appreciate it."
Unaccustomed to such an outpouring of gratitude, Rick offers no response beyond a genuine smile as he returns to prepping the grill. "Where is everybody?" I ask after a slightly uncomfortable silence falls between us.
Gesturing in the direction of the driveway, he answers, "Bill's the only one here so far, but I sent him out to buy more ice." Pointing to the kitchen, he finishes, "Abby's handling the inside duties." Looking through the open blinds, I watch as she vigorously washes one lettuce leaf after another. I notice Rick stealing glances at the basket in my hand and at the ice chest in Danny's, and I turn to Danny, silently begging him with my eyes to let us in on his secret. He understands.
Extending the handle of the ice chest towards Rick, he says, "Dr. Bauer... this is for you and your guests." Rick's brow furrows as he accepts the offering and sets it down beside him, opening the lid to reveal a dozen different varieties of beer and soft drinks overflowing the deep chest.
Shielding his eyes from the sun, he extends his hand to Danny for another shake, saying sincerely, "Thank you, Danny. That was very thoughtful of you."
Holding a hand up in front of him, Danny says, "It's the least I could do." He looks down briefly as he relieves me of the heavy basket in my hand, and when Rick's eyes find mine, I smile broadly when I see the look of approval sparkling in their depths.
Threading my finger through one of his belt loops, I tug at the material, saying, "Come on, Danny... I want to introduce you to Abby."
We wave good-bye to Rick as he returns to his work, and head to the house. "Where's your Aunt Meta?" he whispers as he leans into me, his hot breath caressing the skin of my neck.
Licking my dry lips, I reply, "You won't get to meet her today. She volunteers her time at the Cornerstone Infirmary Nursing Home every weekend and holiday."
"Damn," he begins, digging into the pocket of his shorts and withdrawing a small, white card which he hands to me. "Maybe you could leave this somewhere where she'll find it when she gets back," he whispers, and I stop at the kitchen door, my hand hovering over the knob as I skim the finely printed silver lettering. It's a gift certificate for a day's worth of pampering at a posh spa on the outskirts of town. Aunt Meta will be treated to a manicure and a facial, and then following an hour-long break for a light lunch, she'll get a massage and a pedicure. Queen for a day, I think, stroking his cheek lovingly when I can't find the words to speak of what's in my heart.
Abby always has a ready smile, and today is no exception. "You must be Danny," she says, stepping back from the sink and rounding the island as she dries her hands on a dish towel.
Kissing the top of her extended hand, he says, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bauer."
Shaking her head 'no' as she sits on one of the three stools that face the counter, she insists, "Abby... please."
The door swings open, and I shoot a quick glance at Rick and smile, knowing that he is driven by a curiosity that rivals my own. "I have something for you, Abby," Danny says, and she accepts the handle of the basket timidly, lifting it onto her lap. She sneaks a peek at me over his head, and I shrug my shoulders, letting her know that I have no idea what the gift is. She begins to remove the paper agonizingly slowly, and I have to suppress the urge I have to grab it from her and rip into it.
A trembling hand flies to her mouth, and when she looks into Danny's eyes, I see tears glistening in hers. Stepping closer to him, I look over his shoulder and see that the basket is filled with dozens of cd's. "Your husband mentioned that you regained your hearing last year, and Michelle told me how much you love music," he explains, and her eyes fly to mine. "I didn't know which style was your favorite, so I bought a mix of rock, r & b, classical, and country," he continues. "But, if I can make a suggestion... listen to this one first. It's my favorite," he says, holding up an Eagles cd.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulls him against her, whispering in a shaky voice, "Thank you, Danny," over and over again. In that moment, I wonder if he knows that I fall a little more in love with him every day. When she finally releases him to dab at her wet cheeks, I wrap my arms around his waist and place several kisses against his back, and I can feel him tense underneath my touch as Rick's booming voice cuts through the silence.
"I came to get the hamburgers. Reva and the kids are here, and I want to get them fed and on their way home before Josh and Olivia show up. Give me a hand... would you, Danny?" he asks, and Danny snaps to attention, grabbing the platter of pressed patties and the bag of buns on his way out the door. I watch as Rick slaps him on the back and whispers, "Can I give you a little friendly advice, Danny?" He nods his head, and I strain to hear the words that follow before the door closes. "You don't need to try so hard to prove yourself to us. I invited you here today because you mean the world to my sister."
My heart swells and I move to the window, tugging one of the mini-blinds down to watch Rick introduce Danny to Reva and her kids, and to the Marlers who've just arrived. "Isn't he wonderful?" I sigh, walking back to the island to help Abby arrange the lettuce leaves and pickles on another empty platter alongside slices of tomatoes and onions.
Nodding her head, she stops what she's doing to cover my hand with hers. "He's very charming." Drawing in a deep breath, she asks, "You love him very much, don't you?"
Knowing that she and Rick have probably already discussed this ad nauseam, I feel a sense of defensiveness wash over me as I insist, "I do, Abby... I really do. And I know that you probably think that I'm crazy, right? I mean... we've only known each other for a month." I mindlessly twirl the dish towel in slow circles over an already dry spot on the counter, waiting for her to tell me that I'm rushing into things with Danny... that I haven't even given myself time to recover from my split with Jesse.
Sensing my need for her approval, she cradles my chin in her hand, lifting my eyes to hers as she says, "Hey... I don't think that you're crazy at all. I think sometimes love can sneak up on you and hit you broadside when you least expect it." Tears spring forth as I look into the eyes of the woman who told me, all those months ago when Jesse left, not to give up on love. Knowing exactly which memory I've conjured up, she pulls me into a loving embrace and whispers, "I told you that you still had a lot of love to give. When are you going to start listening to me?"
Laughing, I step back and sweep my thumbs underneath my eyelids. "I'm going to go leave this in Aunt Meta's room. I'll be right back," I say, grabbing the gift certificate off of the breakfast table where I left it as she heads to the door with several bags of chips and the vegetable platter.
She nods her head and blows me a kiss as I shut the door behind her, and I climb the steps, walking to the first door on my left. Opening the top drawer of the nightstand, I retrieve a sheet of Aunt Meta's stationery and write her a quick note about Danny. Leaving it on her pillow beneath the gift certificate, I walk to the window when the slamming of car doors and the honking of horns peaks my interest.
Bill has returned from the grocery store, and I watch him struggling to keep the three big bags of ice in his arms from hitting the ground as he stops to talk to his mother and Matt. I see Buzz and Selena walking to the backyard, their arms loaded with casserole dishes... no doubt one of his customary Greek dishes. The smiles on everyone's faces remind me why the Fourth of July Bauer barbecue is a tradition that we couldn't avoid even if we wanted to. It's bigger than our little tight-knit family... it's a community collaboration.
Voices raised in anger from within the house cause an inexplicable uneasiness to churn deep inside my gut, and a magnetic pull propels me from the window and slowly down the stairs. "You've got a lot of nerve showing your face in my house after all of this time!" Rick screams at the top of his lungs, and I can hear the sound of a metal object clanging loudly against the smooth wood of the breakfast table. My heart races, throbbing within my ears, and I grip the railing tightly as my knees go weak.
"What the hell do you want with Michelle?" Danny spits, his voice laced with as much panic as I heard in Rick's. I stand frozen in my place, unable or unwilling to move into the room and identify the recipient of this wrath, who I can hear softly mumbling something under their breath. Thankful for the reprieve, I close my eyes to collect my jumbled thoughts, and I swallow the burning bile that has risen in my throat. But my body starts to quake anew and my eyes fly open again as Danny shouts, "You don't have to tell me that we've never met! I've seen you in pictures... that's how I know you!"
Oh my God... dad... it's dad... he's back from Europe! Are Rick and Danny crazy? I don't care that he abandoned me... I'm just glad to have him home safely. I should have known he'd come in time for the barbecue. "Dad?" I ask meekly, an enormous smile on my face as I find enough strength to take the four remaining steps and round the corner into the kitchen.
Rick locks his eyes with mine, and I see concern swirling in their depths, silently pleading for me to turn around and go back upstairs as he walks towards me. I stand on the tips of my toes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man that I haven't seen in more than three years over the top of Rick's curly head, but Danny now stands in my way. "Move!" I insist, and my sense of foreboding multiplies tenfold when I see Danny's eyes cloud with fear.
My brain shuts down and I feel like everything is moving in slow motion as I watch the man behind Danny stand and call my name. "Jesse?" I gasp, falling into Rick's strong, outstretched arms.
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