Page 32 of Bartholomew
“Sweet Jesus, what is this?” I praised.
“It’s a drink my father enjoys, and I thought you might as well. I hope it’s alright that I invaded your liquor cabinet.” I took a second sip before answering, letting the flavors wash over my tongue.
“It’s incredible, and yes, it’s more than fine. What is this?” I questioned, holding the dark liquid filled glass in front of me for inspection.
“It’s essentially a Negroni, but instead of gin, I used whiskey. My father said it’s called a Boulevardier. Spicy, smooth, and just a little sweet. What do you think?” she asked, that lower lip caught between her teeth once more.
“I think I’d marry you right this second if I hadn’t already done so,” I cajoled.
“That good, eh?” she giggled prettily.
“Okay, let’s begin. My first question is this. What has been your favorite part of life here at Casa Ollie thus far?” I knew it was a heavy hitter of a question to start out with, but I didn’t want to beat around the bush with little measly small-talk questions.
“That’s… that’s a tough question to start with. How about we start a little lighter?” she hedged, taking a sip of her water.
“Nope, not gonna happen,” I pushed right back with a smile.
“Why not?”
“Let me be super clear here, Delilah. As much as the little piddly questions need to happen, this is what I want right now.” The fire crackled, the light reflected in her wide, blue eyes. “I want to know you. To know the real you, that you don’t let others see. I want you to get to know me. Not the Bartholomew Temple that Zion all seems to think they know. I want you to know me, Ollie. So, do you think — at least for a while — that we could sit down and just be authentically ourselves for a little while?”
I held my breath, watching her face as she pondered what I had proposed. I could see the hesitation in her eyes.
“I meant what I said, Delilah. This is a safe place. Nothing you say, nothing you do, is going to get you in trouble. If you want to tell me I am utter garbage and you hate me, do it. I mean it. I want your honesty more than I want your submission.” The words hung in the air. She may not have been able to comprehend the depth that statement actually held, but it was the pure, unadulterated truth. With a heavy sigh, she finally answered.
“Okay. I think I can do that.” She visibly relaxed a touch, though I could still see that bit of tension that she seemed to cling to. That was okay. This was new. “If I had answered your question sixty seconds ago, I would have said that my favorite part of living here with you these last five days would have been the quiet. Growing up in a house with five children, peace and quiet was hard to come by, as I’m sure you can relate to. But now… I think…” she trailed off; her nervousness was clear in everything about her, from her posture to her blush. “I think it would be this moment.”
“This moment? Why?” I asked softly. One question into this game and I already wanted to reach for her and comfort her.
“Because you are giving me the space to be myself. Even if I’m not sure if I should trust it, you’re giving me a place to be, well, free.”
“Do you have any idea how beautiful your honesty is, Delilah?” I praised her, and it was the truth. Her head turned towards the fire, shying away from the compliment. “It’s true. I value your honesty above all else. So please don’t refrain from it with me, ever. Okay?” I waited until she turned her head back towards me, nodding. “Your turn, beautiful.”
“What is your favorite memory of growing up in Zion?” she asked me after a moment.
“That’s a complicated question, and yet completely uncomplicated. Growing up with my brothers. It’s not one specific memory, its more of a feeling. My brothers are my best friends. They are the people I trust most in this world. The people who I go to in any situation, whether it be good or bad, knowing they will support me and have my back,” I answered honestly.
“You know, it occurs to me we grew up in similar households. Five brothers in yours, five sisters in mine. Both with upstanding parents who are Elders. And yet, it seems so different. I couldn’t imagine going to my sisters for hardly anything, unless I had to,” she admitted with a derisive chuckle.
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Is that your next question?” The way her eyebrow popped up for just the tiniest sliver of a moment before she erased that bit of sass sent me through the roof.
“Only if you agree to bring that sassy attitude back out to play with,” I smirked. That got her attention.
“To play with?” Her eyes popped open wide at my comment. I couldn’t hold back my smirk.
“Yes, to play with. I like that bit of sass you have in you,” I admitted, letting my eyes rove over her face, following the path of her blush.
“Very well,” she said, her voice rising in pitch before she answered. “I suppose the reason I say that I would never go to my sisters for anything unless absolutely necessary is because… well…” she trailed off, her eyes casting to mine almost as if in search of approval. Approval I would gladly give.
“Speak your piece, darlin’,” I encouraged.
“They are miserable,” she sighed heavily with exasperation. I couldn’t help it. I laughed — no, guffawed out loud. “It’s true! Don’t tease!” She scolded playfully. Gosh, I liked this side of her. “My sisters, all younger, mind you, are more likely to cut you with words than knives, but that doesn’t make them any less dangerous. It’s rare that any of them truly want to be helpful for any real selfless reason. Take Elisheba, for example. The girl cannot give a compliment!”
“Can’t give a compliment?” I questioned, fully invested in this story and willing to engage in any way I could to keep her talking. Her face lit up, and it was as though life appeared to bloom within her for the first real time since we had met.
“No, not in the slightest. Every time she does, it’s backhanded. It’s like her compliments come with an asterisk. See end of page, and there you’ll see the back hand part of it,” she giggled. “For example, she couldn’t just say, ‘You look beautiful in your wedding dress, Delilah’. Oh, no! Not Elisheba. She had to say, You look beautiful in your wedding dress, Delilah. Insert asterisk. Who would have guessed someone who looks like you could look good in white?” Her giggles continued, but I couldn’t join in this time.
