Showing Mirna the hidden falls had been perfect. He had wanted to take her there for so long—years fantasizing, ever since high school. It played in his head like an endless daydream, the ideal moment to show her the cascades and kiss her for the first time. The reality had been far better than his wildest imagining. Minus the search for a stone, whose purpose she still kept a mystery. Minus trekking through layers of mud from the recent rainfall. Minus the secret of his dragon that he still kept hidden from her. But most of all minus his mother in dragon form roaring at the sky.
How did I let this happen? He thought for what must have been the hundredth time as he watched his sisters scurry around his mother’s house. After Mirna and he had found the stone, and she agreed to dinner with his family, she had turned shy, rushing from the cave and back toward the path without so much as a word of gratitude. Not that he was expecting any, and her kiss was more than enough thanks. But she had not wanted to pursue that line of thinking either, much to his disappointment. He insisted that he lead her out of the forest, but as soon as they emerged from the woods, she got in her car claiming she had to change for dinner, and that was it. Now, he was stuck getting nagged at by his family as they fussed about preparing the house for Mirna’s visit.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us she was in town,” Alina said for the umpteenth time and threw a rag at him. “Dust off the shelves.”
He sighed, catching the cloth and turning toward the already dust-free bookcases. “I told you, fifty times already, I only found out this morning when I ran into her at the post office.”
“How could she not let us know?” Regina asked for the third time while sweeping under the dining room table.
“Now, now, don’t fuss.” Mama swatted at the twins who currently decided the couches would make better forts than seating. “Regina, Alina, stop poking at your brother and behave yourselves tonight.”
Danila choked on the unusual reprimand. His mother taking his side and telling his sisters to turn it down a notch? Unheard of. “Mama?” he asked, putting a hand to her forehead. “You feeling okay?”
“Bah.” She slapped his hand. “Don’t tease me. You have work to do too. You going to make the dinner, or no?”
“Oh right.” He hoofed it to the kitchen and started peeling the potatoes. Although it had been his mother’s invitation to dinner, he insisted on cooking the meal. Where’s the olive oil? He rifled through the cabinets, searching between the spices and pots. Baked chicken and rosemary potatoes didn’t seem too complicated. He didn’t have the most experience in the kitchen, but he wasn’t a novice either. Although Sunday dinner brokered no arguments in the Smirnoff home, he did have to live the other six days of the week, and a man could only take so much pizza and takeout. Theoretically, anyway.
“Okay, oven warming, potatoes seasoned, chicken in the pan...what’s next?” Danila scrolled through the recipes on his phone, making sure he didn’t miss a step. “Entrée and side. Should I do a vegetable?”
“Knock, knock.” Alina tapped on the doorframe. “Need any help in here?”
He raised a brow. “You know how to cook?”
“More or less.”
Closing one eye at her, he snorted.
“Okay, less. But it’s got to be easier in here than out there.” She thumbed at the twin monsters running amuck around the house.
“Andre, Lana!” Regina yelled in her not-messing-around-voice. “Wash up for dinner now!”
“I see your point.” Danila nodded to the counter. “Come on in.”
The savory aromas wafted throughout the kitchen and smelled...well, pretty good. In fact, he beamed as Alina sniffed the air. “Hmm, not too bad, brother.”
“Yeah? Really?”
“A definite feast.” She took a stroll, inspecting the tops of the counters and peeking in the oven. “Although...”
His stomach dropped. “Although?”
“No dessert?” One arm draped across her chest while the other rose up to tap a long pointer finger against her chin.
Panic arose. He had been so focused on the meal, he hadn’t even given it a second thought. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he admitted, “I forgot.”
“Not a worry.” She smiled and rolled up her sleeves. “I got this.”
Before he could talk her off the dessert ledge and the inevitable crash that would follow, the doorbell rang. Andre and Lana both shouted at the same time, “I’ll get it.”
Danila dropped a potholder onto a lid and sprinted for the door. But the twins beat him to it. The door creaked on its hinges as the twins wrenched it in excitement. They had been only a few months old when Mirna left; however, they had heard stories about her since they were babes. Alina, in particular, liked to recount the adventures of “Dani and Mir” as if the pair of them were some type of superheroes instead of teen outcasts.
“Hey, there,” Mirna cried, spying the twins. “You can’t be Regina’s kids. You’re way too big!”
“Try visiting us more often,” Regina chided and hustled the twins inside. “Then, you won’t be surprised.”
“Easy on her, Regina,” Danila interceded.
“I’m just saying. We all missed her.” Regina kissed Mirna on the cheek, took her bag, and led her into the living room, leaving Danila to admire their guest.
Dressed in a forest green blouse, white skirt with roses on it, and shoes that he thought his sisters said were the same name as that girl from Spiderman, she looked perfect to eat...for dinner. No, perfect to have for dinner. Over for dinner. Fumbling on his jumbled thoughts, he muttered, “You look great.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and gave him the once over too. “You look, ah, ready to cook.” She laughed behind her hand and stared openly at his hips.
The stare would have been brazen and hot as hell, if she hadn’t been eyeing his apron, which he forgot to take off. The little bears whipping up a meal with the slogan “To making beary good food” didn’t exactly score him points on the dateable material meter, but he hoped he could make up for it with his actual cooking skills.
“Ready to serve.” He chuckled and bowed in her direction.
“Well, what girl could complain about that?” Her eyes sparkled with mischievous intent, just as they had in the old days when she was about to challenge him to some ridiculous dare.
“Ahem.” His sister Alina interrupted whatever Mirna had in store for him. Donning his mother’s spare apron—complete with ducks that claimed they were “Quackers for Cooking.” She attempted a tackle hug, but Mirna dodged her outstretched arms and pointed to the aforementioned apron.
“You’re worse than he is.” Mirna laughed and motioned to the flour covering his sister’s duck apron.
“Whoops.” Alina smiled. “I was attempting a dessert. But…” She gazed toward the direction of the kitchen, “I think maybe we should probably skip it.”
“Good thing I brought over Granny’s famous apple pie then.”
“You did?” Danila practically salivated at the bag she whipped forward from behind her back. Granny Turan’s apple pies beat just about anything, and he hadn’t eaten a slice in forever. Which made him think. “Did you invite your granny over?”
“Danila Smirnoff,” his mother exclaimed, walking into the foray and hearing his question. “And just what kind of hostess do you think I am? I called her the moment I got home.”
“Yeah, Granny’s way of apologies is the apple pie,” Mirna said, handing the plate over to his mother. “Unfortunately, she’s got a mahjong game going with the local group.”
“Maw gong?” Danila’s forehead furrowed. “Say what now?
His mother slapped him on the back of the head. “It’s a Chinese game, you dolt.” She grabbed his chin like he was a boy. “Now, close your mouth before you catch flies and put this in the kitchen.”
Handing him the apple pie, she ushered Mirna to a seat on the couch—only recently unfortified by Regina. Alina whipped off her apron and took the empty spot next to Mirna, then Regina and his mother all crowded around, waiting to hear their guest’s stories. Before he could wrangle a spot, his mother waved a hand at it. “Shoo, Danila, this is girl time.”
He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Don’t you have to finish dinner, anyway?” Regina said.
Mirna glanced at each of them in turn as Danila’s ire rose. This was his...um...friend? Well, yeah, that at the very least. He should be the one to entertain her. So what if it was his mother’s invite? He was making the meal. As he continued to brood, Mirna rose from the couch. “Oh, I’d love to have some girl time, but I have to talk to Dani about something, and I’d like to help him finish dinner.”
“You cook?” Alina wiggled her brows.
“Umm,” Mirna started, “not really. But I am a good supervisor.”
His sister laughed as the rest of the family was about to protest the absence. “Now, now, settle everyone. She can’t escape around the dinner table. Give them a few minutes.”
He mouthed a silent gratitude at Alina and led Mirna toward the kitchen. Escaping the family for even a brief respite helped steady his mood. He took her hand as they moved through the kitchen entryway and between the counters and table. “Phew,” he sighed, undoing his apron and throwing it across the back of a chair. “So it begins.”
Mirna squeezed his hand and leaned against the counter. “Come on, they’re not that bad.”
He ran a hand through his hair and then motioned at the doorway. “You want them?”
“You know I’d be happy to have sisters.” Her smile dropped and she fiddled with a stray piece of hair.
Danila stepped closer, tucking the strand behind her ear. He let his hand fall to her shoulder. “Yeah, I know you would. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “No, don’t be silly. I’m the one who’s sorry for not visiting sooner.” Her eyes grew glassy. “I missed them.” The tears fell onto her cheeks. “I missed you. I never realized how much.”
A lump formed in his throat. He knew how she felt. It was hard when she left, more so the days after, but having her back? Everything intensified. It was like he had a wound all of these years and never understood how bad it was. Her presence was like a soothing balm...and he never wanted to let her go again.
Damn. He swallowed the revelation roughly. It did no good to brood about it. He needed a plan. “I missed you too.” Not part of the plan. Placing his hand on her other shoulder, he pulled her to his chest and hugged her. Her tears softly fell, dampening the fabric. So not part of the plan. “It’s okay.” He rubbed her back as she clutched his shirt. “You’re here now.”
“I just...” She tried to talk as the sobs cut into her words. “I just...”
“Don’t cry, Mir,” he begged. “Please, don’t cry.”
“I-I-I ca-can’t stop.”
“Okay, enough is enough, now,” Alina said as she strode into the kitchen. Spying Mirna’s sobbing form clutched in his embrace, she shrieked, “Dani! What did you do?”
“What? No.” He put Mirna at arm’s length. “I didn’t do anything. She was just happy to see everyone.”
“Happy?” Alina snorted and marched up to them. “She doesn’t look happy.”
Mirna swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse, and took a step in front of him. “I am, Ali. I’m just being stupid.”
“You are many things, Mirna Turan,” his sister chided and patted her on the head. “Stupid is not one of them.” She hooked her arm through Mirna’s and tugged her forward. “Now, come and chat with us. Dani’s kept you to himself long enough and seems to have made a mess of it.”
Danila grabbed a wooden spoon and pointed it at his sister. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waved at him. “Check your chicken and then tell me that.”
“Huh?” He turned to the oven and cursed at the smoke emanating from the top. As he tried to wrangle the chicken to edible shape, he heard the women laughing in the doorway. Before he could chastise them for making fun of him, they left him to the task of saving dinner. He couldn’t help but smile. Hearing Mirna laugh—even at him—was far better than having her cry.
Fifteen minutes later, they ate a meal of fine rosemary potatoes and ham sandwiches. The chicken did not make it. “I’m sorry,” Danila repeated for the tenth time as he watched his family around the table bite into cold deli meat.
“What are you talking about?” Mirna said around a mouthful. “You know ham and cheese is my favorite!” She swallowed and forked another heap of potatoes with gusto. “And these potatoes are amazing!”
“Bah.” Regina laughed and swatted her arm. “You’re only say that because you have no palate.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Alina piped in. “She does have refined taste for sweets.”
“Sweets!” Lana cried from beside her mother.
“Oh yeah,” Andre said, pushing his potatoes around the plate. “Can we have dessert?”
Regina pointed a finger at her son who sat wisely out of arms reach. “Not until you finish your dinner.”
“But Mom!”
“It’s okay, Regina. It’s not much of a dinner.” Danila let his head fall into his hands. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” his sister said. “You did just fine, Dani. Cooking isn’t always easy. Besides, this is more than many families are able to have together. We’re enjoying it. And Andre…” She looked pointedly at the boy. “You will finish every bite.”
Mirna giggled, then sighed. “I really did miss this.”
He rose from the table and circled around to her chair. “Mirna, would you help me bring out the apple pie?”
Regina started to protest, but he added, “Don’t worry, sis. No one gets any until their dinner is done.” She nodded, and he turned back to Mirna.
“Sure,” she said, rising to follow him.
Once in the kitchen again, he motioned toward the back door. She eyed him warily, but shrugged her assent. He held the door open for her and after stepping out took a big breath of fresh air. He clasped his hands behind his head and for a moment just breathed. She watched him from the corner of her eye. He could feel that gaze on him, wondering what he was up to. He didn’t want to disappoint her. So, before she had a chance to ponder too long, he swept in for a bear hug and picked her right off her feet. She gasped in surprise, and then squealed as he spun her around.
When Danila set her on her feet again, she was wiping away tears of laughter. “What are you doing?” she said brightly.
“The unexpected, of course.” He popped her lightly under the chin. It had been their way. One upping each other all through high school with dares, adventure, and just plain fun.
“Well, the ham and cheese was more than enough to fill that department.” She smiled.
He frowned. “I was going for chicken.”
“I know.” The breeze played with her auburn hair, making it look like the strands danced in the sun. “But I liked it anyway.”
“Still.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d like to make it up to you.”
“Oh?” She tugged at the sleeve of his shirt. Her eyes twinkled in amusement. “And how are you planning to do that?”
“Dinner,” he said, taking her hand. “I’d like to take you to dinner, a real dinner, tomorrow.”