“I don’t mind the physical aspects of moving … it’s just … I had a job I really liked back in North Carolina.” Oh, too personal. “Mind you, those crates won’t unpack themselves.”
I sighed and she looked sympathetic.
“I have to run to the shops now, but I could come by this afternoon and help if you like.”
Before I could reply, there was a knock at the front door. I hoped to hell it wasn’t another wife come to help by drinking my coffee.
“Hi, Mrs. Wilson.”
Smiling hugely, Sebastian stood there, dressed in torn jeans and a plain, white t-shirt.
“Oh, hello! It’s nice to see you again, Sebastian. What can I do for you?”
“You said you had to unpack crates; I thought I could help.”
I was taken aback by his offer.
“That’s very sweet of you, Sebastian, but I don’t think your parents would be happy if they knew you were here instead of studying.”
“I’m taking a break,” he said, his lovely smile slipping at the mention of his parents.
“I’m sure they won’t object to Sebastian helping a neighbor,” said Donna, appearing behind me. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Sebastian,” she continued, kindly.
Sebastian reddened when he saw her, and he looked down.
“Well, I could certainly use some help,” I said, feeling flustered.
“Great!” said Sebastian, his smile returning. “I’ll go get started.”
“Thank you,” I muttered to his back.
Donna winked at me. “I think you’ve got an admirer there,” she whispered. “Thanks for the coffee. Call me if you need anything.”
I watched her drive away, and then headed for the garage. Sebastian had already made inroads into the second half of crate number one.
“You really don’t have to do this, you know,” I said, shaking my head in bewilderment.
“I want to,” he said simply.
I decided I’d let him help for half an hour, then kick him out and send him back to his parents before I caused any more trouble for him.
It was darned useful having him there—he heaved tables and chests and boxes full of who knows what, and before I knew it, two hours had flown by.
“Oh crap! It’s nearly lunchtime.” I said, looking at my watch, horrified.
“Did you have to be somewhere?” Sebastian asked, looking concerned.
“No, no, I’m worried about you. Your parents … your studying.”
He shrugged. “No sweat.”
“Look, I’m not going to be responsible for you flunking out. I’ll fix you some lunch and then you must go study. Deal?”
“Okay, deal!” he said happily.
He followed me into the house and I showed him where he could wash his hands. I was stretching up to get some of the tall glasses when I heard him come into the kitchen.
“I’ll get those for you,” he said.
His sudden proximity behind me made me jump as if an electric shock had jolted through me. It was the strangest feeling; I suddenly felt almost nervous as he reached past my shoulder, lightly brushing against my back. I took a step away and turned to find him staring at me, a glass in each hand.
“Thank you,” I said, awkwardly.
He didn’t reply and I had to look away first. The intensity of his gaze made me feel uncomfortable—and in my own home, too, damn it! Yes, and annoyed. I took refuge, hunting through the refrigerator, trying to restore some equilibrium.
“I’ve got soda or a lemon pressé,” my voice was half swallowed by the fridge.
“I’ve never had a lemon pressé. What’s that?”
“Oh well, just lemon juice and sparkling mineral water.”
“I’ll try that, please, Mrs. Wilson.”
The tension left my body and I smiled at him.
“Sebastian, you can call me Caroline. Mrs. Wilson is so formal … and it makes me feel ancient.”
“Okay, Caroline,” he grinned at me.
“Now, I can make you a chicken salad sub or … tricolored salad.”
“Insalata tricolore, per favore.”
I turned to him in surprise.
“I’ve been learning Italian,” he announced proudly. “A correspondence course. My high school only offered Spanish.”
“Really? Molto bene!”
“And I’ve been listening to opera, too. I like Verdi.”
“The fallen woman.”
“Excuse me?” he gasped.
“La Traviata: I presume that’s what you mean when you say you like Verdi. Or maybe Aïda? Rigoletto?”
He let his breath out in a gust. “Yeah, all of those.”
“I thought teenage boys only listened to heavy rock music,” I teased him.