Page 85 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
“Some of those are easily remedied. I wouldn’t combine the ‘swimming’ and ‘seeing the ocean’ events on the first time out, though. Please do those separately.”
Chuckling, Jasper stood and walked to the tall bookshelves lining the walls behind them. For the first time, Violet noticed a small radio there—an old-timey-looking thing with silver dials and knobs. He pressed a button and it glowed to life. A man’s voice rang out, hastily announcing that now was the perfect time to refinance your mortgage.
After some tinkering, the slow melody of a luscious Christmas song filled the space. The smooth voice, warm fireplace, glittery lights and slowly rotating snowflakes hanging from the ceiling made Violet feel as if she were in a movie scene. It was all too magical and didn’t feel like her real life anymore. She watched Jasper, her pulse thumping as he turned and smiled.
“Will you dance with me? I don’t know how to dance, but… can we try?”
Violet stood, nodding and meeting him behind the couch. Once she was in front of him, they just stood there, awkwardly. Jasper scratched the back of his head, a strained smile on his lips. “So…”
She reached out and grabbed his hands, placing them on her waist before lifting her hands and resting them against his shoulders. “Let’s keep it simple. We’ll move side to side and keep up with the rhythm. Try not to step on my feet?”
“That doesn’t sound too hard.” He smiled, shifting to the side. Violet matched his movement. Surprisingly, he kept the beat as the song stretched on. And he didn’t step on her toes. Not even once.
“I know you said there’s no chance,” Violet began, “but let’s pretend. If your curse broke, what’s the first thing you’d do?”
He looked over her head, blankly staring at the bookshelves behind her. “Eat a really big meal.”
“You’ve given this some thought?”
“I have. I miss eating the way I did when I was a kid. To my heart’s and appetite’s content. All the rich, complex things that Gloria made for us back then. I get so tired of eating the same foods—always snacking and picking at things. When you made that lasagna, it was really savory and comforting. I wanted to eat a lot more of it, but I got nervous. It’s just not worth it later.”
Violet nodded. She hadn’t considered that he disliked his restricted diet. He seemed so accustomed to it, Violet had assumed he enjoyed eating that way. As they moved slowly to the rhythm, she smiled up at him—a weak attempt to stifle the sudden sadness in her heart. “What’s next on the list?” she asked.
“Next, I… I would do everything in my power to show the person I love that they would be the main character in my life—that we would be main characters together. If she wanted me…”
Stopping, Violet stared into his face. She blinked. “But you would eat first?”
“I need my strength.”
They both laughed, a fit of genuine amusement. Violet’s breath caught when he slid his hands to the small of her back, bringing her in closer. “I can’t prove myself to you on an empty stomach.”
Violet lifted to her toes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and reveling in the solidity of him. In his clean scent, like warm clothes fresh from the dryer. “You don’t need to prove yourself. You being you is enough, Jas. It always has been.”
And she meant it. As they swayed to the luscious melody, underneath spinning paper snowflakes and shadowed by glimmering lights, Violet melted into his warmth and knew that she would accept him exactly as he was. Whatever that entailed.
36
Now
“You’ll have to give me the recipe for this wine, Jasper.” Jillian smiled brightly, pushing her golden hair back over her shoulders with her free hand. “It is absolutely delicious. My mother used to make wine like this when we would spend winters in Scotland for the holidays, but yours is superior.”
Christmas Day. Early afternoon. Having expressed Jasper’s time limitations with regard to his sickness (a strict medical regimen that required him to be back home by five o’clock), they’d had dinner together early.
The atmosphere of this gathering was different than Violet’s pre-Christmas party. Instead of talk about popular television shows and movies, the conversation leaned more toward books, career aspirations and even simple economics. As such, Jasper had contributed much, and Violet had learned that her friend closely followed unemployment trends, had a strong dislike of poetry, but oddly, liked cats. The latter revelation had made Violet narrow her eyes at him from across the table.
“I can tell you the website,” Jasper assured her, sitting on the end of the couch with a mug of hot cocoa. “It’s not difficult to make.”
Rose peeked into the sitting room. “I’m putting the food away so it’s not sitting out—last call?”
“I’m fine,” Violet said from beside Jasper, her own mug of cocoa cradled in her hands (different from Jasper’s in that hers was spiked with spiced rum).
“Same,” Jillian called.
“Jasper, you didn’t eat much. Do you want to take some home with you?”
“Thank you for the offer—I’m alright. But I appreciate it. I don’t typically have a large appetite.”
Rose shrugged. “Suit yourself. I meant to say that you look a lot healthier and stronger compared with the last time I saw you. Whatever you’re doing lately, it seems to be working?”
