ME, CINDERELLA?(35)

“Of course, but no rush, no rush.”

“Who’s the guy on the money?” The face looking back at me from the red and blue bill resembled Jesus, a man wearing a crown of crosses with a beard and long hair.

Eliot peered over. “Him? That’s Saint Stephen. Some say he was the first king of Hungary, although really there were others before him. He ruled over the country when the Pope gave us independence from the Roman Empire.”

“So he’s famous here?”

“Well, we get a holiday for him. You’re always famous if you have a holiday. That way people are sure to remember you, if only because they get a day off.” Eliot winked.

“The only saint we have a holiday for is Saint Patrick,” I said, tucking the bills into my pocket. “And I’m pretty sure people think he was a leprechaun.”

“Saint Stephen was a good one as far as they go,” Eliot said, his voice turning quiet. “’Be strong lest prosperity lift you up too much or adversity cast you down.’ He preached a good doctrine, even if he didn’t always follow it.”

A knock sounded from the front door.

“That must be Marta,” Eliot said. He got up from his chair. “Early as always.”

“Can Lucky stay here with you while I’m gone?” I asked.

Eliot eyed the kitten warily. “As long as he promises not to claw my leg when he wants cream.” He left to go open the door for Marta.

“You’ll be good, won’t you, Lucky?” He purred convincingly as I scratched behind his ears.

A woman came through the door, and I thought for a moment that she must be a giantess, so tall were her heels. Her blond hair piled atop her head in a bun that extended her height even farther, and a crisply tailored suit fitted her lean body perfectly in a robin’s egg blue. She crossed the kitchen in a handful of strides and pulled me close to her in a familiar hug, her bosom pressing against my chest. I smelled a delicate violet scent of perfume, and her diamond earrings tickled my cheek.

“So this is Brynn!” she cried, exclamation punctuating every word she said. She spoke nearly perfect English, her accent slightly British but otherwise unnoticeable. She pulled back and took me by both arms, examining me. I tried on my most convincing smile. “How darling. Eliot’s told me so much about you! And of course Otto is dying to meet you, as well.”

I wondered what Eliot had told her that promised so much of me, but I decided she must just be overly friendly. My jaw hurt from smiling broadly, and when she turned to Eliot for a hug I was glad for the chance to relax my face.

“Eliot, dear, why haven’t you come to visit us again? We’d love to have you for dinner. This time less of a party, yes? I’ll make sure Otto doesn’t go overboard.”

“I’ve been working,” Eliot said. “And if you can find a way to stop Otto from going overboard, you’re a more valiant person than me.”

“Oh, stop!” she cried, her tittering laughter filling the kitchen. The peace of the morning’s quiet had been shattered by her presence, but curiosity filled me up as I watched her move. This was Eliot’s sister-in-law? I wondered about the rest of his family. I wondered about the brother. Who would marry such an unstoppable force as this lady?

“Shall we go, then?” Marta was looking at me, her bright blue eyes framed by long lashes. “We have so much to do, I don’t want to stand around waiting.”

“Um, sure,” I said.

Eliot caught Marta by the arm as we went to leave. He spoke a few quick words in Hungarian. Marta’s eyes darted over to me, but quickly turned away. She spoke back in their native tongue, a kind tone to her words, and patted Eliot on the shoulder, kissing him twice alternately on the cheeks. She turned to me expectantly.

I had only read a little bit about Hungarian customs, and the two-pronged kiss hello and goodbye was completely unfamiliar to me. Not knowing what to do, I was startled when Eliot leaned forward and kissed me on the cheeks. His lips barely brushed my skin, his face pressing lightly against mine, but I felt the contact as piercingly as when he had touched my hand before. My body leaned forward of its own account, aching to be held.

“Goodbye, Brynn,” Eliot said softly. “I will see you later.”

“She’s in good hands,” Marta said, taking me by the arm and spinning me away toward the door. “I will show you all of Budapest!”

I had longed to see Budapest for ages, but now all I wanted was to stay with Eliot, to walk the grounds with him and work on math with him. I might be in good hands with Marta, but the only arms I wanted around me were not hers.