Chapter Thirty-two

THE ANDERCHRONICLES

By Me, Ellee

[WARNING: The following story has been rated FNF*]
*Fiction NOT Fact

[Author’s Warning: Any person in this story resembling someone you know, or think you know, or maybe just know about, or even fantasize that you know, or that you want to know, or even need to know, is purely coincidental and should be disregarded]

"A Brief Encounter"

Once I had cut the diamond nose ring, freeing Andy from that Martell woman, he breathed an audible sigh of relief. But within fifteen minutes, the two of them left, and I didn’t see Andy until the next day when he dashed into the upstairs arboretum where I had been watering some trees and several jasmine plants. Throwing a letter on the potting table in front of me he said,

"This just came for you."

When I looked at the addressee, it said, To My Sweet Little Ellee. Right away I had my suspicions about the addressor. I could only assume Andy did too, since he hung around waiting for me to open it, following me as I walked into the little grove of exotic fruit trees, seeking some privacy.

"Andy, do you mind?" I said, shielding the letter from him.

"No, go ahead and open it; I don’t mind at all."

"Andy, this is kinda personal. I mean, it IS addressed to me—not you."

"Ellee, just OPEN the letter!"

Realizing he was hyper-anxious for me to open my mail so he could see who was sending Sweet Little Ellee a letter, I decided to take my own good time. I watched him become increasingly impatient as each second ticked by, while I ever so gradually undid the envelope flap, and s-l-o-w-l-y extracted the letter inside. I was thoroughly enjoying his reaction to each calculated move. I then proceeded to read the brief note inside—to myself. As I finished, I ran my tongue slowly around my lips and then let a little smile tug at the corners of my mouth, which I knew would bring out the little dimple, which in turn would create that cute little curve on the right side of my upper lip. And hopefully, that in turn would drive Andy nuts.

When my eyes, fringed in long, thick, dark eyelashes, carefully made their way up to him, I could see it had—he was slipping into slow-fume mode. His eyes narrowed, as they pierced mine. Suddenly, he brought his hands together in front of him and began tapping all ten fingers together like a nervous fit was about to take over, and then he blurted out,

"WELL . . . ?"

"Well, what?" I calmly replied.

"What did he want?"

"What did WHO want?" I was loving it.

"HIM!"

"Him?"

"Yes, HIM!!"

"He has a name, you know." And I let the little ‘dimple smile’ flash an encore.

"Ellee, just give me that letter!" he hyperventilated, grabbing it right out of my hands. He then began reading aloud.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Leonardo O’Rourke
Can't wait to go skateboarding with you.

I’ll pick you up next Wednesday after school.

Truly, I'm Yours,
Leonardo

"SO!" he bellowed out, "you’ve finally agreed to go skateboarding with that kid!!!?"

"Of course, NOT!

"Then WHY is he coming to pick you up next Wednesday? The letter didn’t say, would you LIKE to go skateboarding next Wednesday? That’s because you probably already said yes, and this note was merely a confirmation—AFTER THE FACT!!!"

"I NEVER agreed to any such thing with that . . . that . . . teen . . . boy! . . . And besides, why are you so worried about whether or not I am going skateboarding with Leonardo after everything that happened with you and Martell?"

Our emotions were escalating at an alarming rate, and seemed to be headed toward some kind of meltdown.

"What do you mean, everything that happened with Martell and me?"

"Oh, I think it’s pretty clear what happened with you and Martell!"

"No, it’s NOT! Please enlighten me."

He looked like he was going to explode!—The arteries in his neck were standing tall at that moment, and seemed to be sending out some kind of pulsating signal.

"Well, for starters, you called her "Hon."

" Hon? . . . Hon? . . . My deeeeear Ellee, her last name is Honeycutt, and everybody calls her Hon, for short. It’s a nickname!"

He had made his defense. I had no response but,

"Oh! . . ."

This threw me completely off balance, and it took me a minute to regroup before I could make the next accusation.

"Well . . . what about all the kissing that went on?"

"There was NO kissing that went on!"

"Yes, there was—you know there was!"

"NO, there wasn’t, Ellee."

"Andy, how can you stand there and say there wasn’t, when I SAW you? You kissed her cheeks over and over."

"Ellee, don’t you know it’s customary in France to greet your friends with a kiss first on one cheek, then on the other, and finally back to the first one?"

"But, Andy, this isn’t FRANCE!"

"No, but Martell’s mother is French, and Martell was raised in France, so we always greet each other in that customary manner. It’s what Martell is used to doing. That’s how good friends greet each other!"

"Oh! . . ." I said again, speechless, once more having to regroup.

"Well . . . what about all those diamonds? You bought her diamonds, didn’t you?"

"No, Ellee, I DIDN’T—YOU DID. I sent you down to buy her some nice flowers or something similar, and you came back with DIAMONDS!!!!!"

"Ah!!" I choked. He was right, of course.

"Well . . . then . . . explain about in the library when you were kissing her there, and got your nose stuck in her nose ring!"

"I WAS NOT KISSING her when my nose got trapped!"

"Then what WERE you doing when you got your nose trapped?"

We were both so wrapped up in this very heated exchange, and each time one of us spoke, the distance between us closed a tad more, until finally we were practically nose to nose, with our hands planted firmly on our hips to prove our respective points.

"I’ll have you know I was just trying to help her with those earrings, and somehow . . . I really don’t know how it happened, but when I turned my head to reach for another earring . . . I turned too fast and bumped into that nose ring at just the right angle and—"

"You really expect me to believe that? I yelled out.

"YES, I DO! And do you really expect me to believe you’re NOT going skateboarding with that zit-faced little friend of yours?"

"YES, I DO!!!

Our noses had now made contact; our breathing shot into overdrive, keeping pace with the escalating excitement; our eyes widened to full aperture. I could feel the heat coming from his body across the very few millimeters which now separated us. My eyes were searching his, as his searched mine for . . . for something, each trying to read the other. The tension between us continued to mount, second by second. The world around us started fading. Then suddenly he pulled my body close to his, our arms automatically flying around each other, like they had been waiting for this moment and already knew what to do. The embrace was the embrace of a vice and felt as if it could never be broken. Our eyes, still riveted, were now communicating, speaking the same language. I saw his mist over at the same moment mine did. The Andersquint took its position, as well as the Anderpout. There was no doubt—we both wanted the same thing. We stood there, not moving for some time, the strong scent of jasmine filling our nostrils.

Then—a quick intake of breath, a sudden release, a push, and he was gone. It took him less time to cover the distance from me to the door, than it did for the ripe Asian Clunie peach to fall from the tree above at that moment, and smash on the floor in front of me, like my heart had just done.

I stood there for a few minutes, motionless, eyes still on the door—waiting, hoping. But he didn’t return. He was gone. Once again he was not yet ready to face his feelings for me. Would he ever be?

Bye for now,
Love,
Ellee