I shrugged. “I don’t know who that is.”
“She’s a model? Married to Justin Bieber?” At my blank look she continued, “Her father is Stephen Baldwin.”
I didn’t know any of these people but then again, I’d never been much for famous people. They all seemed like entitled assholes.
“Sorry, never heard of them,” I answered.
She was looking at me like I was nuts now. “You don’t know the Baldwins? The famous acting family? Alec? Stephen? Billy?”
“I’m not really into pop culture or actors,” I said apologetically. “I don’t even own a TV.”
My mother had raised me to believe that fame and fortune weren’t important, that character and deeds showed the value of a person. She believed anyone who was famous was suspect. Then again, Mom was kind of a modern day hippie.
“But you go to the movies, right?” the woman pressed.
“Not really.”
“What’s the last movie you saw?” she asked suspiciously.
This was one of the weirdest conversations I’d had in my life. Why did she care what movies I watched?
I thought for a minute. “My mom and I sawWhite Christmaslast Thanksgiving.”
“That movie’s really old,” she said accusingly.
I shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve seen a new movie since I was a kid.”
“So you’re not a fan of Victoria Cross then?”
For some reason, I thought my answer was important to her, although I couldn’t say why.
“Is she an actress?” I clarified
“Yes, one of the most famous actresses in the world. She was on that Nickelodeon TV showHey Vickywhen she was younger, then she transitioned into movies.”
“We didn’t have TV in my house when I was growing up. I’ve never seen that show.”
I didn’t add that my mother thought the government spied on people through the TV. I loved her, but she had some wacky ideas. In college my friends thought it was the strangest thing ever that I’d never really watched TV. They’d often invite me to watch shows with them, but I couldn’t really get into them. I’d always preferred books.
“I thought everyone had a TV.” She seemed befuddled.
“You save a lot of time when you don’t have one,” I said. “It frees up brain space for more important activities, like reading or going to museums.”
I inclined my head in the direction of the rapidly cooling coffee in her hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to clean the espresso machine. Enjoy your coffee.”
Tori
This woman couldn’t be real, right? She didn’t know who the Baldwin brothers or Hailey Bieber were? She’d never heard of Victoria Cross – me? I couldn’t see even a hint of artifice in her expression. Could it be she was telling the truth?
I studied her as I sipped my coffee. She was a cute little thing, several inches shorter than me, all hips and boobs, with a soft belly that her “Morning Jolt” tee shirt did little to hide. Her dark brown hair was cute in a messy pixie cut. She wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup, not that she needed it. Her skin was flawless and those eyes – somewhere between brown and something else, green maybe?
The instant I saw her I felt something crazy. The feeling that she was mine.
Unbidden, my mind went back to a story my grandfather told me years ago.
“The minute I laid eyes on your grandmother I knew she was the woman for me, Vicky. It was love at first sight.”
When I’d scoffed he’d added, “Take it from me, when you meet the right man you’ll know it’s him in an instant.”
