"So we finally meet, Ira," Katelyn shook his hand and he gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Yes," he said and let her greet his parents and he moved to Arianne, the sole reason for him to come down to Miami. He took her by his one arm, and although she thought he might kiss her, he just gave her a hug. Maybe he didn't because there was her mother in front of them and he knew how protective she was of Arianne. Or, maybe he didn't for some other reason.
"Ira, this is Vanessa," Arianne introduced her friend to him, "and, Vanessa, this is Ira." "Hello," she said, making herself sound cheesy, "hello, Mr. Ira, I had been waiting all this time to be able to see you. And, you finally came. My waiting proved fruitful, huh?" Ira just smiled shyly while Arianne rolled her eyes at her friend. She chucked it and all the way from MIA to the house, she flirted with Ira, making him uncomfortable and trying to make her best friend jealous. But, all she got in return was more shy smiles and eye-rolls.
"Wow, what a beautiful house!" Adam exclaimed as Katelyn rolled the car up in front of their beachfront house. It was right after sunset and the house indeed looked marvelous. Ira unloaded the luggage from the car and they moved in.
"Hello, Miss Daveson," Adam and Jess greeted Arianne's Granny who, abandoned them from her greetings and went straightaway to Ira. "Oh, I see," the short woman said, looking up at the tall, young Ira, "I see why Arianne keeps talking of you. You're one hell of a handsome guy." "Thank you, Miss Daveson," Ira smiled back, "you're one hell of a gorgeous woman too, I must tell you." "Yeah yeah," she turned to the parents now, "you're likeable. Hi, parents of handsome guy!"
"Thank you so much for coming down, Ira," Arianne had taken him out for a walk after all the introductions were over and after her mother had shown them all the rooms in details. All the while, she had expected him to do things to show how happy he was to have come, how delighted to have met her after such a long and hard time. But, he did nothing, except for staying away and making it look like he wanted to avoid her.
But, he didn't. He didn't want to avoid her. He had come down to Miami, leaving all his work, all his career obligations, all his other priorities just for her. Just to spend time with her. Just to spend his birthday with her. Just to keep his promise. Then what made him behave this way? Why was he feeling so awkward and so guilty for what he was doing? He had no clue.
"Thanks to you that you let me."
"C'mon, you could just not come. But, you did. I'm really really happy." She said it with such a huge and genuine smile that he could not keep his confusion going on anymore. He looked to his left at the sea and immediately knew why the girl next to him loved it. He tried to drain the hysteria out of his head. He tried to concentrate on what was happening to him in the present, on what he had been waiting for, on what he had planned to do in Miami. He tried to shake Seattle off for at least a little while.
"Even I'm happy," he said, putting his arm around her, taking her by surprise, "very very happy."
"Why do I get a feeling that you're hiding something from me?" Arianne asked, innocently producing her hand to hold his other palm. Her ability of knowing when someone lied always seemed to be subdued when she was around Ira. But, now when he lied, "no, why would I?" it somehow flamed up. She ignored the pang on her heart, and rested her head against his body as they walked, regaining all the faith she had entrusted on him.
When they treaded their way back to the house, their parents met them on the beach. Seeing Katelyn, Ira immediately withdrew his arm from around her and they walked up to the elders shyly. "It's a beautiful beach," Jess said, "the last time we came..." She started with her story and Katelyn led the whole gang to a well-known fast food joint on the beach, for a treat.
"Arianne," Adam talked while they waited for the order to be filled, "where do you see us going tomorrow?" "Tomorrow?" she exclaimed.
"Yes," he said, "we just have a week to tour Miami."
"Dad," Ira protested, "we didn't really come here to tour. Arianne has work anyway."
"Well, tomorrow is Sunday," Arianne took Adam's side, "we could go. After the service, that is. Tomorrow, we can visit the nicest private beaches, have lunch at some fancy seafood restaurant and, then we can go for the South Beach in the evening. The Dance Festival is still on, if you'd like to visit. Is that okay?"
"Perfect," Adam exclaimed.
"Not even a peck?" Vanessa stood akimbo across the bedroom the next morning as Arianne described to her friend what happened the previous evening after she left, "and, I was fucking expecting you'd come up with something steamy. I was expecting to see your bed sheets all tousled up and messy. And, all I see is a clean bed with the Bible on it."
"Vanessa, shush! Maybe, he's just being a bit shy," Arianne concluded, combing her hair for the Sunday service, "or, maybe a bit conscious of the fact that our parents are with us, you know."
"Still! How long would have one kiss taken?"
"I know. Anyway, chuck it."
"No wait. Let these days roll by as they will. I'm gonna plan something killer for the birthday. Hold on!"
"The birthday?"
"Yes, wait till then."
"Isn't that still way too far? I don't know if I'd be able to keep my orgasm till then."
"Excuse me," Vanessa smirked at her, "where did my religious, virgin Goddess go? I can't believe this is the same girl as before."
"Are you done?" Ira came in suddenly, looking for Arianne, terminating their girly conversation at once. "Yup," she replied, and taking Vanessa by her hand, stormed past him out of the room. Coming down the stairs, she took a peek into the room right beside the last step, the room given to Ira. She saw, the bed was all tidy, not a single piece moved, only an unpacked bag and a few clothes hung on the shelf; the bed just as tidy and creaseless like she had left it when she tidied the bed the previous morning, like Ira had not stepped on the bed at all. "You didn't sleep last night?" she looked up as Ira came down. "Yes, of course I did," he lied again, "and, I made the bed in the morning." "Oh, well done," she replied, though she didn't look satisfied at all.
After the service, Arianne took Ira's hand and without caring if he wanted to go, took him to St. Lewis. "Father," she called as they saw him talk to someone else, and when he turned, she spoke again, "Father, this is Ira." "Oh," his smile was the glow of a 1000 watt bulb as he saw the man his beloved Arianne had fallen for and, holding him at an arm's distance, looked at him with utter concentration. "Good morning, Father," Ira greeted him, confused as to why he was being watched that way.
"A very good morning, son," he wished back, "a very good morning. I hope the Almighty lets you have everlasting memories of today. Arianne, what are your plans in the evening?"
"Oh, I'm taking Ira and his parents to the South Beach in the evening."
"Oh, very nice. Well, then, son, if you're not very tired, could you visit me after you come back from the South? Arianne will bring you, I'm sure."
"Sure," Ira replied, smiling, liking Father Lewis immediately.
The South Beach still had the festival going, with still a huge crowd dancing wildly to dance numbers by Shakira, Pitbull, David Guetta and many more. "This is so great," Jess had exclaimed before deciding on taking Adam into the dancing crowd with her. "Can we go for a tour around the fair?" Arianne asked him sweetly. He smiled and nodded.
There were probably a thousand other dancers in the festival. Not all dancing to Pitbull. Some seemed extremely traditional beach dancers, some seemed Brazilian, some Asian, some hippy. At one part of the ground, there was even a bonfire on, with soothing blues playing and a few pairs danced around the fire. "That's so cute," Arianne whispered, holding his arm as they saw a pair kissing in the light of the fire, hoping that he would too. But, he showed no sign.
"This was amazing, Arianne," Adam talked as Ira drove Arianne's car back towards North Beach, "we loved it. What are your plans for tomorrow?"
"Dad," Ira sounded just like last day, "we didn't..."
"I know, Ira. But, still! Yes, Arianne, tomorrow?"
"Umm...would you like some shopping tomorrow?"
"Lovely!" Jess exclaimed at the idea of shopping.
"Then, maybe we can go Downtown. After I finish a half workday, after 12 noon, is that okay?"
"Remember, we need to go meet Father Lewis?" Ira asked as he parked the car in front of the house. "You remember?" she raised an eyebrow, "I thought I'd have to remind you." He smiled, "yes, I liked him. We must go meet him."
"Oh, you're here?" Father Lewis looked up from his work-table at the counseling room, "come in, my children. How was the day?"
"Full of memories to keep," Ira said and smiled at the priest. Arianne looked up at him as they sat across Father at the table. "Arianne, darling," Father looked at her, "why don't you sit outside for a while so that I can have some man chatting with this fine young man?" "Okay," she said, making a sad face at him and left.
"So, Ira, my child, tell me how are you?"
"I'm fine, happy. Thank you for asking. How are you Father?"
"Oh, I'm great. So, you tell me about you two."
He smiled. "What about us two?"
"I know already. I just wanted to know your side of the story."
"Okay," he said, looking embarrassed, "first, Father, it's not a story. It's true and I'm glad it is. I'm glad Arianne isn't just a story, or a dream. I'm glad she's true."
He started describing the incidents as Father asked him to do. As he recited, he shifted back on his chair and relaxed. Talking of Arianne and what he shared with her was easy and relieving. And, he seemed to express that relief with all his might, Father Lewis noticed.
He liked the juvenile kind of excitement and enthusiasm he saw in Ira as he talked about the cricket match and the other incidents and days he shared with Arianne. But, was that all? Even in his effortless narration of the days before summer, there was the mourn of some sort. As if some form of guilt, some remorse, some hidden sorrow that he could not express yet knew the consequences of keeping it hidden.
"Arianne is very special to me," he said. Without realizing, he had talked to the old priest for over ten minutes already. And, all he was talking about was Arianne. "What kind of special?" Father Lewis asked.
"I don't know," he said, after having thought a little, "I just know that she means a lot to me. I'd never even dream of parting with her. As long as I can, I will fight the world to be with her."
"If she wants to part?"
"Maybe, I'll fight with her."
Father laughed. "It's easy to fight with someone who fights back and wants to win. How do you fight someone who wants you to win?"
"What do you mean?"
"You'll get to know," he replied, standing up, "just don't hurt her feelings. She's too much sentimental. And, why not? She's seen her parents separate. Maybe, a separation from a person she..." and stopped abruptly, remembering a promise he made, "anyway, Ira, let's go outside. We've kept that little girl waiting way too long. Just because we know she'll wait for us forever, we shouldn't let her wait that long, should we?"
All night long, Ira kept thinking about the conversation with Father Lewis. He was sure the old man could read minds. And, he wondered whether he knew about the secret he was keeping. He hated it. The secret! He hated keeping it from Arianne...from everyone. Not even Dawson or Theresa knew. He despised thinking what could happen when he'd have to finally say. He knew what everyone was expecting. He knew why his parents consented to come to Miami.  He rose from the bed to check his phone.
No messages! No calls!
"Are you done?" Ira waited by the parlor door of the boutique, watching Arianne take measurements of a little girl of about seven years of age. "Baby, turn," she told the girl and replied,"I'm almost done." Vanessa was writing down the measurements and David was busy showing the mother designs of the neck and back cutting.
Ira watched as Arianne easily grappled with the child, making her laugh and follow her instructions as she did her job with ease. It was his fourth day in Miami and Arianne was supposed to take them to the typical touristy spots, like the Children's Museum, Museum of Science, Monkey Jungle, Coral Castle, the Vizcaya, the Seaquarium and others. Two days later was his birthday, the reason for him to come to Miami, though not the sole one. "And, this one's for you, sweetie," he looked up as Arianne handed over a toffee to the kid and said, "for being the good girl."
"Vanessa, I'm leaving," she collected her purse from David's counter and shouted out, "is that okay?" "Yup," she got a reply, "but, you're coming back after you return right? For the...you know..." "Yes, yes, I will," she said and dragged Ira out of the boutique in haste.
When Arianne came back to the house, after the road trip and a dinner date with Ira at the Hawaiian Plaza and her secret business at the boutique, it was late at night. Katelyn had allowed her to go only when David promised to drive her back home safe. Both the mother and the daughter and even the grandmother and the elder guests had expected Ira to say that he'd pick her up and bring her back home safe. But, he didn't. And, somehow, though it felt bad to Arianne, she was thankful he didn't go.
"Hey," she greeted her and his mothers as they sat on the front porch, with a glass of wine each, "don't catch a cold, you two." As she walked to the fridge to get water, she heard faint sounds of apology repeated straight for a long time. "I'm sorry," the voice belonged to Ira, "I'm so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry." Arianne took her bottle and proceeded towards his room and the voice grew louder, "sorry, sorry. I promise I'll look into it from now on. I swear in the name of God. Trust me, please. I apologize with all my heart. Please trust me."
That was all that he kept repeating as long as Arianne stood by the door and stared at his silhouette in the far away balcony. He was exasperated, she could tell. The kind of exasperated when someone is indebted with acute frustration, it seemed. Even after hanging up, he didn't come inside for a long time and she waited as long as he didn't.
"Hey, you here?" he looked surprised as he came inside and faced her in the partial darkness of the room. He switched the light on and looked again, trying to pretend that everything was okay. "What was all that 'sorry' for?" she asked, smiling. He looked more surprised, trying to reckon as to how much she had heard and lied, "nothing, just a client. The staff behaved miserably and it's me who has to pay for it."
"Oh," she smiled, "let's go for a walk by the sea, what say? It will help you clear your head." "Okay," he left his phone on the bed and walked out with her.
Ira seemed coiled up all the way. It was Arianne who talked, tried cheering him up, tried to make him talk, held his hand, told him stories. It was absolutely the opposite of what happened over the 2AM phone calls they had.
"You know," she said, as they stood at one point on the beach for a while, "even though I've lived by the sea for so many years, I never went sailing far off into the sea."
"You want to?"
"I'd love to." She sounded excited.
"We can go tomorrow. I'm sure there are people with boats that are ready to be given off for a sail trip."
"No, not that kind of a trip. I want a real trip. Like...my own ship...I'd name it...'The Seacomber'...and I'd be able to stay on the sea for as long as I'd wish to. That kind."
He smiled and put his hand around her and held her by the waist. She blushed as the sea breeze kissed her face and ran through her hair and reminded her of the time she had spent cocooned in his loving arms.
She desperately wanted him again. Wanted to take him upstairs to her room and let him touch her body, kiss her lips, her neck, her cleavage, between her legs, do everything that gave him pleasure. Never before had she felt so attracted to a man like she felt towards Ira. She wanted to please him, take his mind off whatever was disturbing him, pulling him away from her. But she had no idea how to make that happen. She had no idea what was pulling them apart.
"Still no kisses?" Vanessa seemed out of her mind as she and her best friend unlocked the boutique door early in the morning. "No," Arianne replied, putting her bag down and sitting at the sewing machine immediately, "I think he's going through something that he isn't telling me. You know, some sort of work trouble or other kind of trouble. I don't know. It's entirely his personal matter, but I'd really like to relieve him from his muddiness."
Arianne told her mother the same story that night as they sat on the front porch,  just the way they had when she first arrived in Miami.
"Darling, I wish I could tell you that things get easier. But, seriously, they don't. You need to understand how to make it easy for you...and for him."
"I know. It's just that I want him to open his heart out to me."
"That's okay. Men generally don't open up so easily."
"But, he did. He was the one talking the most. I used to keep shut and just listen to him. And, now, he has become exactly what he despised."
"Look, my dear, you must understand that he too has issues to deal with. Maybe he's in a situation where he needs time for himself. You must give him the space he needs."
"I understand."
"But, nevertheless, you must show him how precious he is to you. That can relieve him from his stress."
She nodded. "What do you think about Vanessa's plans for his birthday tomorrow?"
"I think it's splendid. Just that..."
"What, Mamma?"
"Tomorrow night...nothing, chuck it. I just need to realize that you're old enough now."
"Tell me."
"Tomorrow night, I'm gonna have the thinnest sleep, hearing out for sounds like creaks of bed and your voices. I'll try not to come out."
"C'mon, Mamma!" She blushed and hid her face.
Katelyn took her daughter in a warm motherly embrace and said, "I just hope he keeps you safe and doesn't hurt you. Does he hurt you?"
"No, not at all," she said, recalling their love-making at the ranch, "he sees that I don't get hurt. He's a very nice person, Mamma."
"Why don't you tell him your feelings?"
"I will."
"He told you he likes you. So, that's half work done. It's you who needs to say, that's it. And, everyone wants to see you together. I think you should tell him soon."
"Shouldn't we tell Daddy about him?"
Katelyn smiled. "Of course. We will."
The next morning when Ira went into the bathroom, the first thing that caught his eyes was a note on the mirror, saying: "Happy birthday". He was sure it was Arianne's work. He smiled, plucked the note and went out of his room.
As soon as he came out, he noticed an eerie silence all about. Unlike the other days, there was no Granny wishing him good morning from the open kitchen, no Katelyn or Jess or Arianne making the breakfast table, no Adam reading newspaper. "Where's everyone?" he asked himself and looked around.
The only things that looked normal to him were covered dishes on the table. He moved towards the table and picked the dishes up. On one was scrambled eggs and the other were french fries, just the amount of fried he loved. And under another covering dish, he found a note. In his mother's handwriting, it said: "Go into our room, darling. Your gifts await you. Love, Mom and Dad."
Entering the room anointed for his parents, Ira found three gifts on the bed. One camera that he recognized from the day they went Downtown on which was a red note, saying, "Click more", a handsome pen, saying, "Write more"  and a wallet of his type with yet another note, "Earn more".
He smiled and picked the gifts up. Inside the wallet, there was another note. In Arianne's wavy handwriting, it said: "Now, have your breakfast, and then go into my room. Arianne."
He followed the instructions. Once done with his breakfast, he turned on his heels and went upstairs where only one room remained occupied by Arianne. "What am I?" he asked himself, "12 year old?" as he pushed open the door of the room.
On her bed lay sprawled was a beautiful beach shirt, blue with floral prints, and white summer shorts. "How beautiful!" he picked the shirt up and immediately undressed to try it on.
Surprising him, it fit him perfectly. Not loose neither tight, he could sit down, stretch his hands like it was a shirt he gave a trial and bought himself. He remembered the conversation with Arianne when he told her how crazily he wanted a beach shirt like that. "She's crazy," he smiled and put his hands inside the pockets.
And, in one of them, he found a note. Not a note! A full scale letter! Written in Arianne's handwriting. He sat down on the bed immediately and started reading.
" Dear(est) Ira,
First of all, happy birthday.
What else can I talk to you about? What else do I've to say? You already know too much about me, don't you think so? Well, yes, now you can say, there's no end to knowing someone. Yes, true it takes a long time to really know a person. But, don't worry dear,we have our whole lives to know each other.
Well, this letter is a letter of apology. An apology for leaving you to yourself when you wanted me to stay with you. Even when you told me you needed me to stay with you. I know, Ira, leaving you like that broke your heart. I'm sorry for that. And, I promise I'll never do it again. I'll never break your heart. You know, I wanted to stay. I wanted to be with you as much as you wanted to be with me. After those two amazing days, I didn't want to leave either. But, you realize I had to, right? I had to come to Miami, to home, because I had promised my family. You understand me, don't you?
Dear, this letter is also a thanksgiving letter. Thank you. For letting me see the brighter side of so many things. For making me laugh. For taking care of me, being with me. For keeping your promise of not smoking anymore. For allowing me and teaching me to give to you what I could never give to anyone else. Thanks for being the person I could trust enough to do so. Thanks for believing in me, making me believe in myself, for telling me I'm worthy of so many things, appreciating petty things of mine, building up my self-love. And, dear, I want you to do the same.
I want you to do the same with yourself. Stop underestimating yourself and realize what you're worthy of. All those poems in your diary, let the world have the good fortune of reading them. You can say it's tough, takes time; you can say, "C'mon, Arianne, be realistic," and I'll say, "C'mon, Ira, we can try."
All you need to do is recite the poems to the world, let the world see how you blend colors, sketch beautiful women. I believe that, besides being the best employee Grey House ever had, you can also be one of the best poets and the best painters too. I don't know if you're gonna listen to me.  But, if you do, I want to be the first person to get a copy of your published poem.
And, now that you've read the letter, go downstairs and somehow spend the day. Your lunch is in the kitchen.  Have it and when it's 4:00 p.m., wear that shirt and walk down to the Hawaiian Plaza. I'll be there at the sea-facing open cantina. If you don't see me, wait.
Love,
Arianne.
P.S.: Now did I show you what you have for people to love, other than your salary?
P.P.S.: I forgot to write this down. Your birthday gift is on my reading table. It's the only thing there. I'll be waiting."
His head turned spontaneously to the table and there he saw a Bible.
Ira reached the cantina early and, finding it vacant, sat at the table Arianne had pointed the previous day to be her favorite spot. He wondered whether the dinner there and now asking him to wait at the same place was a part of some master plan. Arianne arrived a few minutes later. "You look marvelous," he said, as she reached him through the restro crowd. She wore a beautiful sleeveless, body-hugging dress of the same print as his shirt. With her hair open and flowing behind her, she indeed looked marvelous.
Ira watched her as she made her way to him, and stood up to take her in his arms. As she looked up, standing captive in his hold, he stared into her makeup-less yet beauteous eyes.And, for the first time since he arrived five days ago, he held her face by her chin and they shared a long and extremely passionate kiss.
As she took a seat, he pulled his chair beside her and took her hand in his immediately, taking both her and himself by surprise. She blushed as their intertwined hands lay on his leg, like they had on her lap when they went to the stream.
"We need to go," she said, "there's a surprise waiting for you."
"Another surprise? Why?"
She pecked his cheek. "Because you turned 30 today, big guy! Let's go."
Ira found himself following her as she led him through the beach crowd to show him the surprise. Following her every action. She seemed extremely excited about his birthday and the present. And, it was clearly understood that it was all her plan. She talked non-stop as they walked and he loved seeing her that way.
As they walked, basking in the mild and pleasant glow of the Sun, looking back at her, he felt that hers was way more a pleasant glow. She held his hand as she always did and soon, they got through to a more private part of the beach, with much less people. "We're almost there," she said with a mischievous tone of voice.
One more turn round a cliff of land and he was immediately thrown into the party she had arranged. A small area of the beach was occupied, four bamboo sticks were hurled into the ground and a beautiful peach colored canvas was spread over the heads of the people standing there. Jess, Adam, Katelyn, Granny, David, his newly found girlfriend Melissa, Vanessa, her boyfriend Sammy and even Father Lewis was there. Also, underneath the canvas was a round table, and on it was a beautifully decorated cake.
All the while, Ira kept feeling like a 12 year old, as he cut the cake and had to go around allowing everyone a bite. "They look so cute together," Father Lewis overheard Jess say to Katelyn and as he looked up at the people they were talking about, he let out a sigh. Ira finally returned to feeling his age again when he along with Arianne and her friends had a bit of an early drink a bit away from the actual party.
"Hey, birthday boy," Katelyn went up to him as they came back from their drink, "would you like something homemade for dinner, or would you like to visit the DIRT?" He made a face, " DIRT? Nope, I guess I'm good with something homemade, if that's not a problem." "Okay," the older woman smiled broadly at him, "so, I'm taking Arianne away for a while. You can meet her again when you return home. Bye, Ira."
There was no denying the pain in his heart as he saw her leaving with her mother. It pained him to know in his heart of hearts that he was falling for her again. It pained him to realize that there was no way he could stop himself. But, he knew he shouldn't. He was keeping a secret from her which he knew would drastically break her heart. He could see in her eyes how much she believed him.
And, the letter! Ira had read it quite a few times before he came down to meet her. There she had told him everything she felt. It was a clear vision of how she felt about him. And, there was something so strong and undeniable in it, it willed him to hold it close to his heart and cry.
He sighed and checked his phone. Still none of the messages and calls that he had been expecting all day. Only from his colleagues, one from Dawson, one from Theresa.
"Nice shirt, huh?" Vanessa joined him as he put his phone back in his pocket. "Yes," he smiled, "Arianne gifted." "You know where she got it from?" she asked, smiling. He shook his head and she answered her own question, "she stitched it herself."
"You stitched this shirt yourself?" Ira asked as he stood behind Arianne in the kitchen. She kneaded the dough for the Salisbury steak she wanted to prepare for him for dinner. "Vanessa told you right?" she asked, not looking up from the dough.
"Yes, but why did you do this?"
"Because I wanted to."
"Well it fit me perfectly," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders, "how did you do that?"
She turned to him and stared, "you're asking me this?"
"Yes."
"Well, your one-night stands may not know your chest and shoulders and arms. But, I'm surely not your one-night stand."
She looked back at Ira and he just kept staring at her, before she stepped on her toes and kissed his lips softly. When she stepped down again, he smiled and asked, "can we go for a walk after dinner?" "Okay," she said, "we can also visit the church once." She smiled down at her steak dough and wondered how the day was going almost exactly as Vanessa had planned.
After walking romantic along the beach for almost an hour, the two turned their way to the church. "Oh, it's you two," Father Lewis looked up from his Bible as he sat at one of the front rows, praying. He stood up and shook Ira's hand, "happy birthday, Ira. Sit here. I got something for you. I'll get that."
They sat at the row and, as Arianne shut her eyelids and prayed, Ira stared at her. He let out a sigh, cognized he was on a two-headed road, and he had no idea which one to take. He could be here, where it felt like home, where it felt he was safe, where he could be himself and not be ashamed of it. Or, he could take the harder way, where he'd have to bend himself to meet the requirements of other people, where there would be no real peace, only feeling underrated. Only insults and underestimation. Which road?
"Here," Father arrived soon, "here's your gift." He held in his hand a small notebook and as Ira took it and opened it at the first page, a baby picture of him popped out. "Hey," he exclaimed, "where'd you get this from?" "I didn't," the priest said, "she did," and pointed at Arianne, "and, if you excuse me, I'd like to go back home. This old man is tired. Good night, children."
"Do you have any other gift?" he asked as Father Lewis walked out of the church, leaving just the two of them there.
She smiled, wondering if the love-making did happen that night, would it be a gift to him? She shook her head.
"Okay...so this diary, the shirt, the party, the letter, the dinner, that Bible..."
"Ira! It's not that Bible. It's The Bible."
"Okay! The Bible!"
"And, it's not any other The Bible. It's my Bible."
"What do you mean your Bible?" A deep frown etched his forehead as he realized himself what she meant.
"It's The Bible Father Lewis gave me when I was 13."
"Why did you give this to me? It's so close to you. You read it every night. Why are you parting with it?"
"I ain't parting with it. It's gonna be with you. Are you not gonna be with me always?"
Ira stared into her eyes for a while before he could whisper, "against all odds," with water in his eyes and immediately took her face in his hand and lips in his mouth.
He kissed her till their breath was gone. It was celestial, not because it was inside a church, in front of the idol of the crucified Jesus, but because of the colossus truth and the sea of emotions it held. "Come," she stood up and produced her hand in front of him, "I'll take you home."
They dropped the stuff in hand and he picked her up from the topmost stair and carried her into her room. Closing the door behind her, he held her against it and keeping her hands astride her head, kissed her lips, cheeks, and went south to kiss her neck and until he reached the outline of her dress.
As they undressed each other, he kept whispering softly, "don't you realize how much I need you? Don't you? I need you." She pushed her head backward on the door, all her senses abducted and replaced by sheer carnal desire, and asked, "you do?"
"Yes," she felt his heated whisper on her skin, "I do." As he licked the soft skin between her breasts, she told him, "show me then."
He picked her up again and carried her to the bed. That night, he made love to her like he never had before. He fought, worked hard to please her every sinew and she happily and willingly let him before she took over to please him too. The whole world, outside her bedroom, seemed to have blurred out for them. No Seattle, no work, no expected phone calls, no boutique, no memory of the waiting of the past days, no more expecting, no more holding back, no more lying.
"Turn around," Arianne said, as he withdrew from inside her for the third time that night. They laughed out as he turned, enjoying the night and the beautiful happenings. She touched a light bruise near his shoulder and said, "I gave you a hickey." He smiled and pulled her to him, "no, you gave me my best birthday gift."
She smiled. In the dim luminescence coming from the outside, he seemed divine to her. Like a messenger of God, sent only for her, to keep her safe, make her happy. She promised herself to never again make the mistake of leaving him to himself but stay with him always.
Against all odds.
"Recite me another poem," she said, running her fingernails through the hair on his chest.
She requested for one the second time that night.
"Which one?"
"Anyone you feel suits now the best."
"My Greatest Poetry?"
She smiled, "my favorite," and nodded, allowing him to commence,

"The dawn brings with it its own favorite
Blue sky with birds filling it.
Happy hours bring with them a hope,
That you'll stay to help me lope
The times of utter sorrow and grief
You'll stay long to make it brief.
I listen to the spring bird sing its cherubic song,
Do you not know how badly for your those kohl-black eyes I long?
With your smile showing off your ethereal glow,
I don't know how you make my fast hearbeat go slow.
Your gleam infallibly outshines the stars,
And my finger's desire to run through your hair knows no bars.
Give me the good fortune of calling it love at first sight,
Cause, that was when I had asked myself, "she's not just my hallucination, right?"
Your arousing voice couldn't just be implausible,
Tell me, clear my doubt, aren't you the night's angel?
Cause, you, angel of the night, my amatory,
Are my life's greatest poetry."

She was asleep wit her head on his chest when he finished. He smiled a wry smile and decided that, in the morning, he'd tell her all the truth. Maybe, it would break her heart, but he'd tell her. He couldn't lie anymore. Not to her.
When she woke in the dawn, the first things she saw were Ira's eyes, glued to her, like he had been watching her that way all night, not blinking at all. "Good morning, Mr. Armstrong," she wished him, in a mood of early-morning romance already.
"I have something to tell you," he said, putting his arm around her. She smiled, "even I have something to say to you." Last night, while listening to the poem, she had told herself it was time to finally let her feelings burst and tell Ira about her love.
"You go first," she said. "No," he protested, "you go first. Maybe, you wouldn't want to talk to me anymore after I say this. You'll hate me, Anne, you'll hate me."
Anne.
"What's wrong?" Arianne asked, touching his face, looking into his eyes that held too much of anxiety and sadness. She kissed him immediately, persisting the kiss for a little longer than usual, hoping that that would lower his tension.
"Tell me. Whatever it is," she said.
He hesitated still. All night he had been awake, trying to pretend it wouldn't be hard to just say it. But, it was. In her eyes, he had seen things he had never seen in anyone else's. And, it pissed him off to think that the confession could drive them away.
"There's a girl..." he started, "in Seattle."
She broke away from the embrace and looked at him. "And?"
"And..." he looked away. It was impossible to look into her eyes, "and, in the last month, for days on end, we've been staying together, at her apartment."
Her heart broke.
"And?" her voice choked as she tried to believe what he said and simultaneously hold back some tears. She broke away from his hold and kept distance. She gesticulated at herself, "why didn't you tell me before? We could have avoided this."
"No," he said, trying to convince her, "I don't regret this. No, Arianne."
"Maybe you should. Maybe I should," she pulled the blankets away and covered her nakedness from him, "go away, Ira. Go back downstairs," and turned away from him.
He stayed still. "Anne, please listen to me."
"Ira, go," she quietly wiped her tears away.
She didn't come downstairs that day. Not much. Just for breakfast and lunch and dinner. The Arianne whom everyone thought would be happier than the last days was found to be more miserable than ever. She didn't talk to anyone, let alone to Ira. And, whenever Katelyn walked into her room that day, she found her sleeping tight. It felt to them as if she was hurting.
So did it seem with Ira. He barely ate or talked and all he did was to sit on the front porch steps with his phone. And, sometimes - only sometimes - did they see him going up the stairs. When they tried seeing what he did, they saw him just opening the door to Arianne's room a little bit and, just standing in the doorway, maybe staring at the sleeping girl.
The elders finally saw them talking outside the airport when the Armstrongs were to leave. When everyone went ahead, Ira stopped her beside the car and tried hard talking to her.
"Arianne, I know I did you wrong. And, I'm sorry. I really am sorry.  Please forgive me. Please."
"Do you have anything else to say?"
"Wouldn't you say anything at all? Nothing? Arianne,  I'm going. Don't do this to me."
"Well...what's her name? Did you tell me her name? I guess I forgot."
"Arianne!" he ran his fingers through his hair.
"Tell me."
"Savannah Helmsman. Happy?"
"Oh, the seminar" Arianne whispered under her breath and looked away immediately to hide her swollen eyes and tears, "tell her I said hello."
"And me? Don't you have anything to say to me?"
"Call me when you land at Seattle," she said and walked away to the rest of the gang.
Watching her go, an unbidden question popped up in his head, a question that he had been asked before, by a Catholic priest who probably already knew what was going through his mind.
"How do you fight someone who wants you to win?"