“Is that a question, Evelyn?”
I was worried she’d walk straight out of the bathroom and ask Lucian about banking securities, which was exactly what she did. I tried to stop her. Lucian was sitting in the living room on the couch, talking about, of course, UPS delivery service.
My dad said, “Hey, DD, this guy is a serious history buff. He knows everything about the beginnings of the United Parcel Service.”
“Yeah, Lucian’s a reader,” was all I could think to say.
Lucian was looking at me, wearing one of those smiles that made it hard not to smile back. He looked like a little boy about to walk into Disneyland.
“Lucian,” my mother said.
“Yes, Jane?”
“So you’re in banking, Evey tells me.”
“Yes, that’s right.” I knew he’d pick up on what to do. “Asset securities to be exact.” He winked. I lost my balance and had to grip the back of the couch.
“What are asset securities?” my father said.
Oh shit, what if he doesn’t know?
“It’s actually pretty simple. I buy shares in companies or in mutual funds that are invested in the stock market. It’s a lot of number crunching. It’s not that exciting, but it pays the bills.”
God, he’s good.
“Do you want to see my childhood bedroom, Lucian?” I asked.
“Evey,” my mother scolded.
“Just to show him around,” I whined.
My mother rolled her eyes. Lucian looked back at my dad for approval.
“Go ahead, DD, show him around.”
“Come on.” I grabbed Lucian’s hand and pulled him down the hall to my bedroom. With my back to him, I said, “So this is it. I’m an only child.” He laughed, so I turned on my heel. Our faces were inches apart. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I know you’re an only child. I’ve known you since you were a baby, remember?” He opened his eyes wide for emphasis. “I know a lot about you.”
I had forgotten about that little fact. For a while, we had just been a couple of people getting to know each other. I knew I had a sour look on my face when Lucian added, “Not everything though. There’s a lot I don’t know about you.”
“What don’t you know about me?”
“I can’t read your mind.”
“Oh, big deal. So you don’t know what I’m thinking? Most people can’t read minds. How did you know I told my mom about the securities thing? We were whispering in the other room. By the way, are my parents’ angels in here with us?”
“No, they’re outside—two females. I’ve known them since you were born. They hang out on that old porch swing, smoking cigarettes… menthols. Your mom always thought your dad was sneaking cigarettes.”
I laughed. I knew about that. I remember her accusing him once.
“They’re usually really nice,” he said, “but they gave me a dirty look when we walked up, so I didn’t say anything.” He clenched his teeth like the angels outside might be a problem.
“You never answered me. How’d you know what I told my mom if you can’t read minds?”
“I can hear you from far away when you’re speaking aloud. But I can’t hear your thoughts. Sometimes when I’m worried about you”—his lips moved closer to mine—“I wish I could hear your thoughts, but other times, I’m glad you’re a mystery to me.”
I pecked him on the lips and pulled away. “I’m the mystery?”
