Ean’s Rare Gift – Chapter 3

Ean

“What do I do with this?” Myra asks, holding up my childhood lunchbox.

I see now that getting her to unpack my living room was a bad idea. She has asked about every single thing she’s removed from the boxes.

“Open it and see.” I go back to digging in the kitchen boxes while Suri folds my towels and puts them into the linen closet in the hall.

At least my one-bedroom apartment is bigger than Myra’s studio. I have an actual sitting area where I can fit a sofa, chair, and bookcase. I’ll have to decide later if I should put up a barrier between it and the kitchen. But I like the open layout.

The living room is soft, serene cream, and warm light radiates from the floor to the windows on the southern wall. The recycled wood floors are stained a dark coffee brown, and the slanted ceiling gives the room a cozy feel. I like that my apartment is north-facing, so the light is indirect, and the morning sun only shines on the bed in the bedroom. Sunlight drenches the apartment the rest of the day with a gentle glow, making it a bright and airy space.

“Oh.” Myra peers into my lunchbox. “Well, I’ll have some of that if I say so myself.”

I smile and ignore her as she grabs a pre-made cigarette of cake from the lunchbox and opens the window on the far side of the room. She’s a stressed-out mess lately, in the middle of a new relationship and a possible new job. She can smoke at the window. I don’t care.

“What can I ash in?” she calls out over the music.

Tilli pokes her head out of the bedroom. “Are you smoking cake?”

“Yeah. You want?”

Tilli sighs. “In like ten minutes. Ean has too many books.”

“You can never have too many books.” I grab my empty coffee cup from Café Mela, add a few centimeters of water, and deliver it to Myra. “Here.”

She lights the cigarette and drags on it. “Thanks.” She blows the smoke out the window. “Things have been crazy lately. The izakaya is busy, and I’m working on that project with Nosuké. I barely have time to breathe. This is the first night I’ve had off in a while.” She picks up the cup I gave her and looks at it. “Didn’t you bring me coffee from here?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did.” Oh, there’s my coffee maker. Thank the gods. I thought it had gotten misplaced. I don’t have much for my kitchen since I had lived at home for so long before moving to the shared space. The coffee maker was a gift from Nosuké, Myra’s new boyfriend, a month ago when I was awarded this place.

“Isn’t she the one who makes those Italian and French pastries everyone loves?”

“Huh? What?” I stand up, propping the coffee maker on my hip.

Myra shakes the cup at me. “Café Mela. The woman who runs it. Pay attention, Ean.”

“All you ever do is think about food.” I put the coffee maker on the counter to the right of the sink and step back. Hmmm, nope. It belongs to the left of the stove. I move it.

Myra snaps her fingers. “Katie. No, Katrina. Right?”

“Karina,” I correct her. “Karina Varoni.”

“Ah, ha.”

Something in her voice makes me turn around. Myra’s perched half on the window sill, her socked foot propped up and the other on the floor. She pulls a tiny piece of leafy cake from her tongue and drops it in the cup. Her smile is way too devious.

Tilli hurries out of the bedroom and joins Myra at the window. “Pass it over.”

Myra hands over both the cigarette and the cup.

“All of my sisters are such bums.”

“Not me,” calls Suri from the hallway. She checks her watch. “In fact, I leave for orbit in three hours to go back to work. So no cake for me today. Not even a beer.” She sighs as she closes the linen closet and flops onto the couch.

In the bedroom, I hear the telltale sound of dog nails hitting the floor, and Suri’s pair, Finn, a fluffy golden retriever, comes out of the room to stretch and join her at her feet. He woofs at her.

“Finn is thirsty. You got a bowl of water you can put out?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I grab a bowl from the stack on the counter, rinse it out, fill it, and put it on the tile floor of the kitchen. Finn approaches and drinks. Soon enough, Mochi, Myra’s skunk pair, and Ivan, Tilli’s cat pair, leave the bedroom too. I sigh. They’ve probably each left half their fur on my bed.

“So, Karina, is she single?” Myra asks.

Don’t react, Ean. I school my face and keep unpacking.

“Yes, she is single. Why do you ask? I thought you were already dating someone.”

“Don’t be facetious.”

I keep my eyes on the box rather than look at her. I can tell from the tone of her voice that she’s in a teasing mood and serious as fuck about it.

“You know,” I say, unwrapping a glass, “I wish Mom and Dad had stopped having sex right after they gave birth to me.”

“Ew,” Tilli says, exhaling smoke out the window and handing the cigarette back to Myra. “Thanks. I needed that. It’s been nothing but studying lately.”

“Yes,” I say, brightening. “How’s that going? Are you ready for the I.A. entrance exams?”

Tilli is trying once again to get into the Interstellar Agency. She failed her first entrance exams, and this is her last chance to try again. She has an appointment to take them next spring.

“Don’t change the subject,” Myra says, carefully stubbing out the cigarette and putting it back into the lunchbox. She raises the cup in the air as she crosses the room to throw it away. “I hear all the gossip in the kitchen at work. Karina has eyes for you.” She points directly at me.

I burst into a laugh. “You. Are. Insane. Karina is just a friend.”

Myra raises an eyebrow. I sober, and my smile fades away.

“Seriously, she’s a widow who misses her late husband. I would never…” I place my hand over my heart. “I could never violate that, even if I wanted to, which I do not.”

I am a convincing liar, but saying this out loud reminds me of my place.

I’m Karina’s friend. She placed me in this box, and I won’t infringe on her personal space, even if I want her. I can only hope the desire fades away someday soon. It’s been years, and I still think about her at every waking moment.

I rub my face, my palms scraping over my two-day-old beard. Where the hell is my razor? I hope I find it sometime soon. I don’t want to buy a new one.

Myra sighs. “Fine. But the rumors that circulate in my kitchen are never wrong.”

“Yeah, well, don’t bet on it.”

Tilli heads to my bedroom again. She emerges a few moments later with the empty crates she unloaded. “I organized your bookshelves by genre and then in alphabetical order by author and title.”

I roll my eyes as I return to unpacking the kitchen. “Thanks, Tilli.” It’s a wonder she didn’t get into the I.A. the first time, but she doesn’t test well. She gets overwhelmed easily.

Looking at the three of my six sisters here, I wonder if I’ll ever have a family of my own. I’m thirty, and my last girlfriend was a long time ago. I’m married to work, and not in a good way. Still, it’s the job I’ve always wanted to do. I don’t want to let it go just because I can’t find someone to settle down with.

“Remember, it’s no fun dying alone, dear brother,” Myra says, reading my mind. Sometimes she grabs a subject and strangles it to death. I send a severe glare her way. “What?” She laughs. “I believe you did something similar for me not too long ago. And look how well that turned out.”

Yes, I brought some of Karina’s coffee to Myra and reminded her she needed to believe in herself, that she was worthy of love. And she is worthy. All of my sisters deserve to find happiness.

I’m not sure I can say the same about myself. I mean, I tried to bribe Suri to go back to her ex-boyfriend. I’ve backed Dad and his heinous family policies. I’m no angel.

“Leave him alone, Myra,” Suri warns. “He’s got enough shit to worry about without you teasing him constantly.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, though I don’t deserve Suri’s support.

“And for what it’s worth, I’ve met Karina a few times.” She joins Myra at the window. “She’s always all business with Ean. You’re making something out of nothing.”

I let out a relieved breath. If other people have noticed, it’s probably true. Karina and I are only friends. I don’t want that to hurt, but it does. This crush is literally crushing my spirit. Holding back a sigh, I remember I’m not owed a romantic relationship from anyone. If I never meet someone, then that’s the way the cookie crumbles, as Mom says. She’s full of Earth aphorisms.

“What about Diana?” Tilli asks, sitting on the couch next to Myra’s pair, Mochi. Mochi rests his paws on Tilli’s leg, and she absently scratches his head. Every now and then, I get nervous having Mochi around. Skunks can be stinky.

Suri brightens and gasps. “Yes. Diana. Why have you never asked her out?”

Because Diana is complicated. She’s the daughter of a family friend, and everyone has been trying to force us together since we were teens. And it’s not like she’s not gorgeous with her long blonde hair and curves or that she’s not intelligent and capable. It’s that she feels like the other women in the room with me right now. She’s practically a sister. I might as well date Tilli. Ew. No. Just no.

“Do you really need to ask?” My voice is dead as I side-eye Suri.

“It’s because Dad would love it?” Myra guesses.

“No, though, that’s a good point. It’s because she’s just as much of a sister as you all are. I mean, we’ve seen each other through the whole awkward teen years. No thanks.”

Myra nods. “You’re right. That’s a no-go for me as well.”

Suri hums and sits forward, looking out the window. “Huh.” She lifts the screen and reaches out to pick something off the ledge. “That’s weird.”

She holds up a hoop earring about four centimeters in diameter. “It was sitting on the windowsill.” She crosses the room and puts it in my hand with a shrug. “Maybe it belonged to the previous tenant.”

“There was no previous tenant.” I turn it around, and it looks expensive. The silver is bright and shiny, so it hasn’t been out there long. I set it on the counter. Maybe I should hold on to it.

I open the next box, and my glass mason jar full of shells is right on top. “Do you also pick up interesting shells on the beach?” I set the jar on the counter beside the coffee maker. There are some days when I wish I had never met Karina because my heart hurts too much each time she nails something about me I thought no one would notice.

Tilli pouts and picks up Ivan, cradling him in her arms like a baby. “I can’t believe I’m the oldest child left in the house now. I need my own place.”

“Just keep applying,” I remind her. “New units become available all the time, especially smaller ones.” I collapse an empty crate and add it to the stack next to the door. “It’s the family units that are scarce.”

Turning around, I assess the progress we’ve made in the apartment. It’s looking good already. Once I hang a few photos and the pieces of art I’ve picked up over the years, the space will feel homey, like I actually live here. The office downstairs can wait until later this week.

“I’m starving. Who wants to get dinner before I have to go to the neighborhood meeting?”

“Are you buying?” Myra asks, perking up.

I chuckle. “Of course.”

Suri shakes her head. “Can’t. I have to go prep for orbit. You all go without me.”

I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder and chest. I’ll go to the meeting straight from dinner. As I hold open the door for my sisters, Suri and Myra file through first, with Tilli at the rear and all the animals on her heels. She stops and pokes me in the chest. Her eyes are red from lack of sleep and the effects of cake in her system.

“Suri couldn’t see that Erik had been in love with her for years. Myra is just as bad. Don’t trust their judgment when it comes to romance.” She tilts her head. “Ramen?”

I smile at her. “Sure. I know the perfect place.”

“You always do,” she says, singing the words.