The Meaning of Life

Holden

This is not how I imagined this playing out. I was so hyped up from Sam’s performance, watching Dina smile just did something to me. Like everything clicked into place and I knew, without a doubt, that I love her. But every second since the words spilled out has been a disaster.

When she asks me to call a taxi, I’m not sure if it’s because she doesn’t want to be carried home or she’s that desperate to get away from me.

“You’re going to take a car?”

She chews on her bottom lip again, which she’s been doing non-stop since Phil and Sam joined us. “If… Will you come with me?”

That’s a relief. I nod a silent thank you at my friends and step toward Dina, crouching down in the spot Phil just vacated. “Of course, I will. Are you sure that’s what you want? The guys and I can carry you home.”

Her brown eyes hold so much sadness and unsaid words. Whatever she wants to say, she’s keeping it to herself. “I can do it.”

I know she can, but I don’t want her to unless she wants to. Unless she’s ready to take a step that she hasn’t felt ready for in the last nine years. “Are you sure? Phil would be a magnificent steed.”

She chuckles, which alleviates some of the sadness on her face. “I’m sure he would, but I can’t ask him to do that. Just… can you make the call before I lose my nerve?”

I slide the last of my beer toward her. “Here. Drink this. I’ll order a car.”

Moments later, we say goodbye to Phil and Sam. Then, with one arm over my shoulders, Dina hops out of the bar as we wait for our ride. I’m on her left side, and I can feel her heart pounding in her ribs. We stop at a bench outside, where I help her get situated with her bum leg raised on the seat.

I’m not even sure what to do or say right now. Acknowledging what is happening will draw attention to it. But not saying anything feels like I’m ignoring her genuine fear. People don’t actively avoid things for close to a decade if it’s just a mild concern.

Before I can do anything, the white Toyota RAV4 quietly pulls up in front of us. I had hoped that an SUV might make Dina less afraid. If I could have found a hummer or an army tank operating a ride-share tonight, I would have chosen that. This was the best I could do.

I hold my hand out to her, which she hesitantly takes and stands.

She tries to step forward on her bad ankle, but winces the second it touches the sidewalk. “Looks like this is happening.”

I open the back door and pause for a second to wrap my arms around her. “Try to relax. I’ll be right here the whole time. Luckily, it’s a short trip and there isn’t much traffic. It’s a good practice run.”

She nods and slides into the rear passenger seat, clutching her hat to her chest so tightly she’s crushing it. I can feel her shaking until I let go to close the door and run around the other side. When I hop in, tears are leaking down her cheeks, but she’s silent. I realize she hasn’t even done up her seatbelt, likely because she’s paralyzed by fear, and she’s not used to safety measures on public transit. I reach across, click her belt on, then secure myself in the narrow middle seat. Buckles dig into my hips on either side, but that minor annoyance disappears when Dina leans into me. She lays her head on my shoulder, so I lean over to kiss the top of her head. 

The driver pulls out onto the street and heads east. Each shift of the vehicle’s engine or change in direction makes Dina gasp. The driver pays no attention to us, which I’m grateful for so he can focus on the road.

“Almost there. See. We’re already on Fort York.”

She doesn’t lift her head to see where we are. Whether it’s because she trusts me or she’s too scared to look, I don’t know. The only thing I’m worried about is comforting her.

Minutes later, we pull up in front of her condo. Dina seems to be paralyzed when I shift to unbuckle us both.

“We’re here. We made it. Wait there; I’ll come around.” I don’t want to be presumptuous and assume she wants me to come up, but there’s no way I’m leaving her to hobble upstairs by herself. Plus, Nacho will need to go out.

I rush around the SUV and pull Dina’s door open. She’s frozen, aside from her blinking eyes. I ease her out, thank the driver, close the door, and usher her inside.

Nacho is at the door when we enter and wags his tail when he sees me. It’s a major boost to my ego. I take Dina right to her bedroom and set her on her bed. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in here, but I’ve seen pictures of Nacho on her bed or the background when we had video chats, so it doesn’t feel unfamiliar.

“What do you need? Pyjamas? A shower? A drink?”

She stares off into space, not paying attention to my questions. “You know why I decided to do a thesis?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Because I was afraid that they’d assign me to a co-op on the other side of the city and I’d have to drive there. That’s the real reason.”

Her confession causes an actual pain in my chest. Knowing this woman I love was so stricken by fear, it prevented her from taking on a great opportunity. “Hey, you did what you needed to do. And like you said, you’ve learned a lot from your thesis.”

She finally blinks, focusing on me. “Yeah, I guess. I just feel like a coward.”

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

“Ha! You’re just saying that. Trust me; I’m a coward.”

I step between her legs, careful not to touch her ankle, and she automatically tilts her head to look at me. The words I said earlier almost spill out again, but I reel them in before we have another disaster. “I meant every word.” Our eyes stay locked on each other as I try to make it clear I’m talking about everything I’ve said tonight.

Nacho paws at my leg, which surprises me and Dina.

“He needs to go out.” She attempts to slide off the bed, but I stop her.

“I’ll go. You rest your leg.”

She opens and closes her mouth three times before speaking. “Are you sure? You don’t mind?”

“I’ll come in for another thank you when we get back.” I wink at her, then call Nacho as I walk to the front door.

His Empress takes his sweet time finding the perfect spot to claim as his. Or should I say spots? By the time we head back inside, he has conquered the entire neighbourhood.

Dina’s bedroom door is only open a crack when we return, creating a slant of light across the dimly lit living room. That hideous lamp does little for light. Ugly and impractical. The fact Dina said she resonated with it is a little depressing.

“Dina?”

“You can come in.”

I inch the door open and poke my head around once the gap is wide enough. She’s sitting at the head of her bed with her legs tucked under the blankets. It’s only now I realize her ankle needs ice.

“Do you have frozen peas or something? For your ankle.”

“No, but I have ice cubes.” She grimaces, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s in pain or she feels bad for not having frozen peas.

I assure her I’ll figure something out, then pop into the kitchen to make good on my word. She has ice cubes, but no sandwich bags or anything to seal the ice in. I find a pair of plastic bags, so I dump a tray of ice cubes in one, use the second to make sure it doesn’t leak, tie a knot at the top, and wrap that in a clean dish towel. It’ll have to do.

Nacho is curled up on the bed beside Dina when I return. He doesn’t even lift his head.

Dina, on the other hand, puts down the book she’s reading and greets me with a smile. “Thank you for this. For everything.”

“Of course.” I walk to the head of the bed and pull the blankets back to place the ice on Dina’s swollen ankle. It’s looking angry and purple, which worries me more than I thought possible. “Are you sure you don’t want to get this checked out? It could be sprained.”

She shakes her head as she bites her lip again. A move she hasn’t done since we left the bar. It drove me wild then, and even more so now.

“I want to say thank you.” In a fluid movement, she reaches up to grab my shirt and pulls me toward her.

The jolt surprises me and I nearly topple over, but keep myself standing, bent over her as our lips collide. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve kissed her now, but I will say it never gets old. Every stroke of her tongue, graze of her teeth, little whimper-moan she makes, all of it gets imprinted in my mind. I accept the spectacular thank you until I worry I can’t keep myself upright.

As I pull away, Dina asks, “Will you stay?”