The Greatest Mind I Ever Knew

Chapter 6: You're Totally In Love!

I think we can all agree that the ice was officially broken after that day. Lotan and I were no longer tense, or 'new' around each other at all. In fact we couldn't take our hands off each other a lot of the time! But most of all, we continued learning everything we could about one other. Whether it was through walks in the park, café dates over lunch, visits to that nice French restaurant, or simply chatting during work breaks, we spent the next few months in deep, fulfilling conversation. Lotan even began inviting me over to his house on the weekends, although I never told my parents that was where I was, and we never did anything I wasn't ready to do.
               Sex just wasn't something Lotan and I discussed right away: we were content in each other's company fully clothed, and still found ways to make each other blush and tingle without 'going all the way'. For example, Lotan knew if he spoke to me in French I would melt, and I knew if I replied in Italian he'd be helpless but to clutch me and kiss me.
               But most of the time when I visited his house, we spent the day being creative. He wrote songs for me on his piano, and I made up dances for him - 'The Ballerina' remaining our favourite, always. We even videoed our finished performance! His living room was small, filled almost entirely by his piano, but I danced around him anyway and if ever I bumped into something he always jumped up to check I was okay. Sometimes we waltzed together too, sometimes we cooked together, sometimes we were both exhausted and just watched TV together, but everything we did ended with a long, sloppy French kiss.
               Over those autumnal months, my friends at ballet all figured out we were dating. Faith, as you can imagine, was the only one who offered us no congratulations for it. Madame Favreau almost definitely knew Lotan and I were a couple too, but we were too nervous to tell her outrightly and she was too professional to talk about it at work. I just tried to act natural around her, dancing as I always did, but I did find that she watched me a little bit more closely than she did the other girls now, and she glanced between her nephew and me often, as if wondering to herself, 'Are these two a good pair for each other, or is this relationship going to cause a drama in my studio?'
               I could have sworn back then it never would.

Let's skip ahead to a cold, dark Sunday evening in December. Lotan and I were walking towards his house after a roast dinner at a nearby pub - he'd never had a traditional, English roast before which was unacceptable to me! Our post-meal conversation began with this question:
'Are you sure you don't want to come to my house for Christmas Day, Lotan?'
               He kissed my hand in his and said,
'I think I must going with my aunt, ma chérie. She is, er, what is word... She is lonely, since her husband died.'
'I get it.' I sighed, then suggested, 'But she could come too!'
               Lotan looked down at me nervously, and told me for the second time that evening,
'Olivia, I, I have not meet your family yet. If I come for Christmas, they buy gifts for me and cook for me, and I feel, er, er, like, imposing. I would imposing, on them. This for me is, er, what is the word...?'
'Awkward?' I offered. He nodded.
'Yes, merci, awkward.'
'But,' I said, 'I want you to meet them! They'll really like you - they love listening to the songs you record for me, and I promise they'll be friendly and you don't have to worry about gifts or food! It's Christmas!' I smiled up at him reassuringly, but he still looked uncomfortable. 'Hey.' I added more sensitively. 'I really want to see you over Christmas. I want to kiss you under some mistletoe, and snuggle up by the fireplace with you and toast marshmallows and drink hot chocolate with you. So, please, come over? What about just for an hour in the evening, so we can give each other presents?'
               Lotan looked down at me, trying to change his mind. He sighed. I watched his breath frost over in the cold air and float away. For a moment I stopped us walking down the street, under some pretty hanging lights, where I put my hands on the lapel of his coat and said, 'Please, Lotan, don't be nervous. - If anything my mum will make things awkward, not you.'
'Your mum?' Lotan asked. 'What this is meaning? She is embarrass for you?'
'Yeah!' I chuckled. 'Just yesterday she called me from Tesco because George came out and couldn't find any cigars -'
               I quickly stopped myself. Why had I said that? How could I forget I hadn't told Lotan about Mum's alters yet? I'd been so careful to hide it all this time, and now here I was blurting it out!
               Lotan watched my face in confusion.
'George?' he asked. 'Who is George? - Tesco is sells cigars now?'
               I stared up at my boyfriend, not knowing what to reply. Lotan could tell I was troubled by something and moved his arms around me, squeezing me against his chest a little. 'What is matter, dear lady?' he asked gently. I shook my head.
'N-Nothing, um, nothing. I, I think I shouldn't have had that wine, that's all.' I said, forcing a smile.
               Deep down I wanted to tell Lotan everything. I wanted him to know what my life was like at home, but what if I scared him off? He'd made me so happy these last three months, I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I lost him now! So I shut my mouth - for the time being.
               Lotan still seemed confused but he didn't ask me any more questions about my mum, or George or cigars. All he did was hold my hand and start walking again.
               I kept my head down. Lotan waited a while before speaking again:
'So what we are doing for Christmas, Olivia? You want me coming to your house, yes? Because if this happy for you, I will come.'
               He looked down at me tenderly, and I finally lifted my head to look back up at him. Suddenly I didn't want him to meet my family anymore: if I didn't have the courage to even talk to him about Mum's DID, how would I feel if he came over and she dissociated in front of him? What if Dad did his typically overprotective thing of giving Lotan 'a talk' and threatening to murder him if he didn't treat me right?
               No, I couldn't risk it. Not yet.
'It's okay.' I told Lotan, squeezing his hand. 'Don't worry about coming over. I, um, I'll come and see you on Boxing Day instead.'
'You are sure? This doesn't, er, er, make you sad? If I'm with my aunt?'
'Not at all.' I lied. 'I've been keeping you all to myself for the last three months anyway! She'll be happy to have some time with you - and you can both speak in French as much as you like.'
               I smiled, and Lotan copied.
'This is true.' He nodded. 'I think will be nice, yes. Speaking English makes me very tired.'
'I keep telling you your English is good! I always understand what you're saying.'
'I think, this is because you are very like me.' Lotan said, amused. 'When I going to shops, or the taxi, the people don't understand me very well, never.'
'Well, then, they're idiots! I love the way you speak. Did you have English lessons? Or was it just your dad who taught you?'
               Lotan looked ahead again, his cheeks a little pink from the cold and face ordinarily serious. He cleared his throat.
'Er, yes, he teach me most of English. But not for a long time. So, when I moved here, I have, er, forgot many the words.'
'Oh.' I said. 'How come he stopped teaching you?'
               Lotan glanced down at me, his eyes drooping a little. I stopped in the street again and faced him. 'Hey, are you okay?'
'I am fine, dear lady.' he said, stroking the side of my face. 'I, I, er, don't like to talking about him, this days. This is all.'
'Oh.' I said again. 'Okay. Sure.' I turned back to the path and slowly walked once more. I didn't push him to open up further: it would have felt incredibly hypocritical. So Lotan fell silent.
               When his street came into view, I mused more happily, 'Do you know what I like hearing you say the most, Lotan?'
'No?'
'Well, two words actually. First, 'ballerina', because, you say it like 'bal-air-rh-een-a', every single time.' I chuckled at his cute, confused face. 'And second: 'Oh-l-ee-via'.'
''Olivia'?' Lotan smiled. 'Why 'Olivia'?'
'Because it sounds so lovely when you say it! Can you say it for me now, please?' I slid my hands around his arm pleadingly. He shook his head, bewildered by the request, but said anyway,
'Okay, Olivia, would you like to coming inside to my house, Olivia, for a cup of tea, Olivia? Or do I walking you home now, Olivia?'
               Beaming, I made a happy little noise and pecked his lips with mine. Lotan chuckled. 'You are crazy lady!'
'And you are a very handsome man.' I countered. We stopped outside his front door and Lotan turned to face me.
'Then, you are come in?' he asked. I bit my lip while I considered it. It was late in the evening already, and tomorrow I had to leave my house before 6am to visit my friend Andrea before Christmas came. Mum was letting me borrow her car, but Winchester was still two hours away so I wanted to be there early to make the most of the day before having to travel home.
               'Er,' I said, checking the time on my phone, 'I'd love to, Lotan, I really would, but, I think I should be getting home now. I've got an early start tomorrow.'
'Ah, yes, yes, of course.' Lotan nodded. 'If I have a car I drive for you, dear lady. But you will have a good time with your friend. Come, let's go.'
               I smiled and took his arm again.