Catherine

It took us about a week to put her things in boxes. After working hours, Damon and I worked in mutual silence, both afraid on what would come out of our mouths.

Like aliens or something.

It was nice though. The lack of words made me realize how familiar we were with each other. Apparently, Ellie already had a lawyer manage her belongings before she went away with Benjie.

She gave me a couple of dresses and her cassette player, along with the cassettes she played every afternoon. She knew I liked those.

Damon got most of her kitchenware. He held one of the casseroles he wanted from her like it was a baby and I'm not sure wether to find it sweet or funny or extremely creepy for a grown man.

Mr. Fluffy made his way by the window, to Ellie's chair. We were also told that Damon and I have full custody of the little furball who's now dozing off in the corner.

He never really meows. I mean I get it. He's fancy. I tried getting him those laser lights the other day but he looked at it, then at me and walked to Damon.

The guy had the nerve to pick Fluffy fancy pants and made a show of letting me know on how close they were. All Mr. Fluffy did was let Damon pat his head but I made an effort on getting him a toy.

Mr. Fluffy refuses to leave the apartment though. I've read somewhere that animals get depressed too, and I'm not sure if that was anything a vet can cure.

"So we're taking these to a church and they'll handle it. Give'em to people in need." Damon's head appeared from under the kitchen counter. He was trying to reach a spatula that fell when we went to get his share. He just refuses to let even one item go. He already knew that Ellie was giving him all these. Can't blame him. He lives with someone who doesn't really cook on a regular basis, so it was a miracle if you found a cheese grater on the cabinets.

"Why don't we just give it to those shops that help on charity events or something. That would work-fck" He was trying to get up but ended up hitting his head. He slumped back on the floor, rubbing his head. The sound of distant thunder came from outside and he glared at the window.

"He gave you rules, didn't he?" I finished folding the curtain on her bedroom before attending to him. I crouched next to him, his hand still rubbing little circles on the back of his head. "Let me look." I held his head and ran my fingers through his hair, all the while looking at his face. It was on the lower part of his head that his face turned grim.

"I'm fine, bonbon. I'll put some ice on it later." He moved my hand away from his head and went back to getting the spatula.

"You know you're too big to be in there, right?" I tapped his shoulder and made him move out of the way,my other hand placed on the counter just in case he decides to whack his head on it again. He moved back carefully this time and scooted to his left so I could get his darned spatula. The counter's bottom part is where she puts all her casseroles and most of the utensils she uses. She found it more convenient than getting them on cabinets. The problem was that there was a gap at the end of it and that's where Damon's treasure was hiding.

"So, -" My hand was smaller than his so taking something from not so-huge spaces was easy for me. "how about we donate them to the church we went to before? I think they take in abused women there." I felt the coldness of the spatula and leaned in further inside as I retrieved it. Grinning, I held it out, "Sound good?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, bonbon."

I turned to see him still sitting on the floor, resting his back on the cabinets. His eyes fixated on a certain body part of mine.

"What are you looking at?"

His eyes quickly moved up to look at mine. His mouth hung open. "What? Nothing." He spoke the words too quickly that all I heard was 'wahnothin".

I crawled backwards. "Damon." He wasn't getting out of my way.

"Yes, of course. Move. Yes." He did just that. I moved my hair away from my face and proudly showed him the item he failed to retrieve. I even waved it at his face for good measure.

"You should stop staying up late at night. I can't talk to you properly." I was sitting indian-style infront of him. He was looking at my face but I could tell he was far away. I tapped the spatula on his forehead when he didn't reply.

"Yes?"

I sighed and took his hand,placing the spatula on his palm.

"We're taking the stuff to that church we went to before." I could tell he was going to protest but I held up a finger. "You already said yes."

He sighed and closed his hand on the spatula.

"How about-"

I shook my head. "No."

"Darn." He got up and wiped his pants. He then lend me his hand, pulling me to my feet.

"Do you have a problem with going to church? I know it's supposed to be visit-a-nun Monday and that we're going on a Saturday."

I could almost see a smile but he cleared his throat and scratched his head with his spatula.

"What were you looking at a while ago."

His eyes went wide. "Butt-"

"What."

"But I wasn't looking at anything at all."

I eyed him suspiciously and he couldn't take the pressure. He excused himself, telling me he's going to cook dinner.

Mr. Fluffy stretched his body and walked towards the door.

"Here kitty kitty." He looked at me with his clear blue eyes, and guess what?

He followed Damon out of the frick fracking apartment.

***
"Thank you for these Catherine." I smiled as a couple of church helpers unloaded the boxes from the back of Damon's truck. It was late in the afternoon when we finally got here. Damon,for some unknown but I'm-very-thankful reason, decided that we needed to clean our apartment, redecorate the interior, do our laundries and cook dishes that took too long to prepare.

"We could've gotten here sooner." I turned to see Damon taking a big box from an older man. He gave Sister Mary a quick hug and that was it.

"It's fine dear. It's a bit of a surprise. Damon doesn't visit us twice a year." She laughed and laid her eyes on Damon's back as it turned to a small hallway.

"Twice? He only visits once a year?" She nodded. Her eyes were so kind, like she just woke up from a sad dream and never really forgot about it.

"Always the same day. He's been doing it since he was fifteen. Such an odd child."

I heard Damon's laugh along with the others as they got out of the side of the building.

"I'll be leaving now. The sisters and I need to prepare supper." She gently patted my hand before going inside.

Damon only visited once a year. That fact was now stuck in my head and the cat in me wanted to know why.

"You ready to go?" I looked up to see Damon standing in front of me. I wiped what little sweat he had on his nose. It took him by surprise but chuckled when I wiped my hand on his shirt. "Pizza?"

I frowned. We just ate before we got here. If there was brunch, what we had was late lunch/early dinner.

We had. Linner. Or lunner. Or dunch.

"How about dessert?"

I swear his face lit up like a Christmas tree. I don't want to break it to him that we weren't having cake.

***
"You call this dessert?"

I laughed as he took the plastic fork from my hand.

"It's just as sweet." I smiled as he forked a piece of nata de coco from the can.

He was so hyped about getting a cake and didn't quit asking when I told him to stop by a grocery store. He almost whined when the cashier bagged the fruit cocktail I purchased. The young man, probably working for some extra cash was kind enough to volunteer opening it for me.

"Good?" I took the fork back and searched for a grape.

"Bearable." he swallowed and leaned back.

We,as two sane,smart adults, decided that the best place to eat was on the back of his truck. We were on the grocery store's parking lot, the only light was coming from a lamp post, two cars away.

"I remember when I was a teen, I bought this big can of fruit cocktail. But they didn't open it when I asked. So, -" I looked at the grape and popped it in my mouth. "I found a nail and a rock and poked holes at it, like connect the dots and opened it that way. I had to clean the nail with my sweater though. It was worth it." I handed him the fork. He was slowly eating all of the nata.

"You're a problem solver huh."

I smiled, lifting my chin. " Still am."

He chuckled. He didn't speak for a while and we just stared as the car from across the lot left.

"Well then, how about if you saw a kid-" He laid down, swatting an insect near his ear. "he doesn't have a sob story. He wasn't an orphan or anything. Just your regular ol' messed up kid. But his dad's gone. And his mom left too. But he knew where his mom was. For some reason, his mom doesn't remember him. You see, that kid's mom was perfect,but then she met his dad and the mom, -" He waved the fork. "the mom went a little coo-coo after that."

"Coo-coo?"

He nodded and smiled at the starless sky. "Yeah. She got a hot rod, you know, that red stuff they use to brand horses? Those. And the kid was sleeping ye know, and she branded him with a cross on the back of his thigh. The kid asked why of course. Because it hurt pret-ty bad. She told him it would keep his dad away."

My hands felt cold, but I said nothing.

"But it didn't keep the dad away. In fact,the dad came that same night and looked at the kid. He crouched down and whispered something and it made the pain go away. Like magic. The kid was beyond happy to see him of course. He thought he was some sort of soldier that came home from war. And he promised him that he would make his mom all better."

He bit his upper lip.

"He did. But when that little boy woke up, his mom was gone. He looked everywhere for her. Days, weeks. Until he stumbled to this...church. There were children there and guess who he saw?" He turned to me.

"his mom was there, holding a laughing little girl. He wanted to approach her of course. He missed her so much, it hurts. But a hand stopped him. It was his dad. He told him that he shouldn't tell him who he was, or his mom would go coo-coo again. Imagine that, a kid wanting to be hugged and kissed and loved, and be taken care of, denied this simple wish. But he didn't want his mom to go crazy again. So he was content on seeing his mom, outside the gate, while she played and took care of the other kids."

I looked down at the can in my hands. I was finding it hard to breathe.

"Now here's the question, bonbon."

I looked at him,trying to blink back the tears. "Hmm?"

"What would you have done?"

I swallowed, never letting my eyes leave his face. He looked so wretched, but still managed to keep a smile. Like he just woke up from a sad dream... and never really forgot about it.

I put down the tin can and held his cheek. He looked at me then, placing his hand over mine.

Without another word, I lowered my face to his, taking notice of every detail on his face. From his dark eyes,that were now turning to such a calm shade of blue. I know it was impossible to actually see them, but his eyes felt like it was pulling something from inside of me. You know, aside from my soul. I've paid attention to his I've-been-on-fights crooked nose and his slightly parted lips. Damon wasn't perfect.

I felt his hand on the back of my neck and lowered my head even more.

I've been kissed before. But it always felt like an obligation that I have to do because it was expected from me.

Damon's lips were so soft, that it put feathers to shame. I felt his hand squeezing mine, my other hand resting on his chest, feeling the fast beating of his heart. At least I know I'm not the only one finding this worthy of a  heart attack.

It was just the touching of lips really. No fancy sword fighting they described on books. Not even close on how the French did it.

But it felt enough.

It was enough.

When it was over, I opened my eyes to see him looking at me. I didn't even remeber closing them in the first place.

There I was, being asked a question, on a parking lot, at the back of a rusty truck, eating from a tin can, under a starless sky.

"I... I don't know."

Did I mention that I, Catherine Wright, old maiden reincarnate, just kissed a guy?