One Good Deed Part 4

Luka leaned over the bed and held her in a gentle hug, hoping she'd take some comfort. "I know how you feel," he whispered to her. "Losing the other half of your heart is hard."

"That's right, you lost Misha." She sniffed and then began to cry again.

"Yes, I did. But more than anything, Misha wanted me to be happy, not sad. That's what Josif would want for you. He adored you and he would want you to remember him as he was and be as happy and content as you can." Luka straightened up. "He's in heaven with Misha, and the two of them are probably sitting at a table together playing poker, smoking those awful cigars and drinking slivovitz until neither of them can stand, just like they did that night in Belgrade when you visited a few years ago."

Bella actually began to laugh. Of course, she dissolved into tears as well, but Luka saw a light in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

"He'd want you to remember and to see you smile."

"I can't. It hurts."

"Of course it does," Luka told her. "It will." He heard a chair sc.r.a.pe on the floor and saw Peter sliding one over to him. "For three months after Misha died, I wallowed in grief. I figured I was ent.i.tled. I'd just lost the most important person in the world to me. I didn't speak to anyone; I drank and walked to places Misha liked so I could stand on the sidewalk and cry as people walked past the crazy man." Luka sat down right next to her bed. "People all over town were talking about me. The people at work stayed away from me."

Bella sniffed but seemed to settle.

"I was a mess. My hair was long and s.h.a.ggy, I didn't shave for days sometimes, and I forgot to do laundry."

Bella made a face and then smiled slightly.

"See, I was stinky too."

"What changed?" Peter asked from behind him.

"I got a letter from this lady right here," Luka said, tightening his hold on Bella's hand. "She told me in that letter that I was loved and cared for. That I wasn't alone, and that Misha loved me and would want me to go on." He turned back to Bella. "How you knew how I was feeling on the other side of the world, I don't know, but you did," he said, looking into Bella's puffy red eyes. Luka released her hand and pulled out his wallet. From it he pulled a half sheet of paper that had obviously been refolded and handled many times. He placed that paper in Bella's hand and closed her fingers around it. "Your words gave me comfort, so now I give them back to you." Luka held Bella's hand, with the letter clasped in it.

"I can't take this. It was for you."

"I give it back to you. I know every word of that letter-it's written on my heart, just like I can remember the last thing Misha said to me. I won't forget." Luka sat and held her hand, not letting go, while tears ran down her cheeks. "Go ahead and let it out."

"I can't. It's too soon, and I don't know where to turn. I can't let go of him. Not yet."

"You don't have to let go. All you need to know is that you're not alone and that people love you," Luka whispered while Bella continued to cry.

"I just miss him so much and keep wondering how I can go back home where everything will remind me of him. His clothes will still be there, and so will that awful stuffed deer head he insisted on keeping in his office. I hate that thing, but now I can't get rid of it because it was his, and throwing it out would be like throwing away a piece of him." She sniffled again and then rested back on the bed.

Luka continued holding her hand, but let the conversation settle into silence. That was fine. Just sitting with her was enough to let Bella know she wasn't alone and had friends who cared.

"How is the apartment?" Bella asked after a while. "Do you like it? I know it's small, and I told Josif we should enlarge it, but he never wanted to. He always said it was efficient and cozy. Like he ever actually lived there." Her lip quivered.

"It's very nice. I really like it. I don't have much stuff, so I'm very comfortable," Luka told her.

"It's a very nice s.p.a.ce," Peter added. "I've been working with Luka to help improve his language skills. We sit at the table two evenings a week and work. The place is very cozy, and in the winter it will be very warm and comfortable. It's a wonderful thing that you're doing for Luka."

"I'm glad he's there. When I come home, it will make me less lonely, and Luka is such a sweetheart." She stroked his cheek, and Luka saw Peter tense. "Are you getting along?" she asked.

Peter cleared his throat, and Luka felt his cheeks heat.

"You two are, aren't you?"

"Luka and I are getting to know each other," Peter said and cleared his throat again. Luka wasn't sure what he and Peter were, but he knew he was interested in trying to find out. There was something about the taller, blond-haired man with his pretty eyes and self-effacing manner. He wanted to protect him. And Peter piqued Luka's curiosity.

"I know this is none of my business, but I'm happy for both of you," she said softly and then dabbed her eyes. "Peter has always been very alone. He doesn't let people in very often."

"I figured that out." Luka was very happy they had been conducting this conversation in Serbian rather than English. There was no way he could have kept up otherwise.

"Luka is doing very well with his studies," Peter said in English.

"He make me watch a polar bear movie," Luka told her, following Peter's language lead. "It for children."

"But I bet you liked it, didn't you?" Peter said, and Luka looked back at Bella, who smiled at him. "You did. So admit it."

"The movie was cute," Luka admitted reluctantly. Both Peter and Bella chuckled, and Luka growled softly.

"I have others," Peter said, turning to Bella. "Maybe I could give him SpongeBob."

Bella stared at Peter for a few seconds and then began to laugh, full and deep. Luka wondered what this "SpongeBob" was. He looked at Peter for an explanation, but there didn't seem to be one coming.

"I'll show you sometime. Let me say that they're cartoons, but nothing like The Little Polar Bear. The Little Polar Bear. I don't think I want you to learn to talk like Squidward." I don't think I want you to learn to talk like Squidward."

Bella laughed again. "Thank you," she said to Peter, holding out her hand. "I needed that." She rested back against the raised mattress. "I need to get some sleep, and you two should go get some dinner." Bella smiled at them.

"Okay. If you need to rest, we'll leave," Luka said, switching back to his more comfortable native language. "I'll come back to see you tomorrow." He stood up and leaned over the bed, then lightly kissed her cheek. Then he stepped back and let Peter say good-bye as well. They left the room, waving one last time before walking back toward the elevator.

"That was very nice of you to try to help her," Peter told him. "You knew what to say to make her feel better. That's what I do for a living and I tried to help, but you were amazing. She's grieving and she's spending a lot of time alone trying to work through her loss, the fact that she missed Josif's funeral, and that she's alone. You knew what to say to help her."

They reached the elevator, and Luka pressed the b.u.t.ton to go down. "I just tell her what she telled me," Luka said. He probably should have stuck to Serbian, but he was sure Peter got the idea of what he was saying.

"No. You helped her," Peter said. "And it was incredibly kind and caring."

Luka nodded and shrugged. He didn't think he'd done anything special other than speak what was in his heart. He'd never done that before meeting Misha. Now he couldn't seem to stop. Misha had taught him that speaking and acting from the heart with others was just as important as thinking and acting with his a.n.a.lytical mind in his work. But he kept that to himself. It was too hard to explain anyway.

The elevator doors slid open, they stepped inside, and Luka pressed the b.u.t.ton for the ground floor.

"Where do you want to go for dinner?" Peter asked. "Do you like Italian food? There's a nice place a few blocks away."

"Yes, I like," Luka said. The doors slid open, and they stepped out into the lobby. It wasn't long before they were in the car and on their way to dinner. "Do you have"-Luka paused for the right words-"things to do tomorrow?"

"Yes," Peter answered. "I have an appointment in the morning, and then I have to take my mother to the eye doctor. In the afternoon I teach an English cla.s.s." Peter pulled to a stop at a light. "You could come to the cla.s.s, if you like. It's at a community center, so they don't charge. After the cla.s.s we could do something fun."

Luka smiled. "Okay," he said. Inside he was thrilled Peter had invited him. He was fascinated by Peter, but up till now he hadn't really been sure Peter was all that interested in him. Maybe he'd been wrong. "That is nice." He couldn't help being pleased with himself. Peter turned into the restaurant parking lot, found a place, and turned off the engine. They got out and walked into the restaurant.

The hostess seated them, and Luka slid into the booth.

"Bella really seems to mean a lot to you," Peter said.

Luka paused to make sure he'd understood. "She is family. Josif was my blood cousin, but Bella is family. I love her. She is like a sister." Luka's heart swelled and ached at the same time as he thought of the pain she was going through. Luka had been there-he knew the hurt, the ache, and the wis.h.i.+ng things were different that Bella was doing. In fact, he was pretty sure that was exactly what she was doing at this exact moment. "I hurt that she hurts."

"I know," Peter said. They paused their conversation when their server approached the table. They were given menus, and Luka opened his. He didn't understand most of the dishes and peered over the menu at Peter. He saw him staring back.

"Do you need some help?"

Luka put down the menu and pointed at some of the dishes. Peter explained what they were. He stuck to English, but managed to get his point across, and Luka settled on the veal. They ordered drinks and dinner when the server returned.

"Are things going better at work?" Peter asked him once the server had left.

"Yes. I take... took your words and talk more. They have been nice and help me a lot. Some of them have asked me to teach them Serbian words." Luka laughed. "Mostly the bad ones." Since Luka had reached out to them, he found they had done the same in return, and they were now going out of their way to make him a part of the department. "I like them. They will be good to work with."

The server brought a small dish of olives and cheeses to the table. Luka stared at it and waited for Peter to eat before he took anything. "Do you have to pay?" Back home things like bread were often brought to the table, and you paid for what you ate. Luka actually wondered if they counted the olives.

"It's included," Peter told him.

Luka was surprised and began to eat. It was definitely going to take time for him to get used to the way things were done here.

"I bet an all-you-can-eat buffet will be more than you can understand."

"All you can eat? What does that mean?"

"It means you pay one price and eat until you're full," Peter explained.

Luka stared at him and then began to laugh. Peter was teasing him. He had to be. But he looked serious.

"I'll have to take you to one sometime."

"You are serious? There are places like that? It must cost a lot." Visions of mounds of food piled on the tables flashed through his mind. He wondered how they could make money while his mouth began to water at the prospect.

"Not really. The food is okay, but not great. There is just a lot of it." Peter smiled at him. "Like I said, I'll take you sometime so you can see for yourself."

Luka wasn't fully convinced, but he nodded his agreement. The server returned with their drinks and a small salad for each of them. They began to eat, and the conversation tapered off.

"Why do you work all day and then teach people English?" Luka asked. It took him a few minutes to string all the words together, but Peter's smile told him he'd done it right.

"I like to help people," Peter answered. "There's nothing better than helping someone communicate. In the few weeks I've known you, your English has improved immensely and will continue to improve. I'd like to think I played a part in that."

"You did," Luka said.

"Maybe, but it was mostly you. I haven't had a student work so hard before. Is that how you do everything? Attack it until you've mastered it and then go on to something else?"

"I think so," Luka said as his cheeks heated. "I work hard. That's the only way to learn or to move forward." He ate the last of his salad, and the server took the plates from both of them. "Is that the only reason you... come to see me?"

Peter shook his head. "I...." He hesitated.

Luka watched every move he made, from the way his gaze darted to the side to the way he tugged on his collar.

"This is hard for me." He blew air through his teeth. "I come see you because I like spending time with you." He looked down, and Luka wondered if there was something interesting on the napkin he had on his lap. "I don't know why you're interested in me. I'm not anyone special."

Luka had just heard Peter tell him that he helped people for the joy of helping. At least he'd said something to that effect, but still Peter didn't understand that he was special. Luka shook his head. "Do you not know how special you are? You're nice and kind and you help people. That is special. Most people do not do that. They are...." Luka paused, trying to think of the word. "For themselves, not others," he said slowly.

The server returned to their table and placed their plates in front of them, effectively cutting off the conversation. Luka thought Peter looked relieved, but he wasn't sure. He decided to leave it anyway. Peter was special, Luka was convinced of that, and he took it as another challenge-to show that to Peter.

The veal was amazing-slightly crunchy, with tomato sauce and rich cheese. Luka ate bite after bite without stopping. He'd been hungry, but Italian food at home was very different from this. He wasn't sure which he liked best, but he didn't plan to stop to ponder it now. Peter had ordered pasta with a red sauce, and the scent of garlic mixed with spices reached Luka's nose.

They ate and talked a little. There were times when trying to converse was more trouble that it was worth, and times when Luka felt like they didn't need to speak at all. Peter had said his skills were improving, and he felt they were. Peter spoke Serbian, which came in handy, but their experiences were so different that even speaking the same language wouldn't necessarily mean they were communicating clearly. Thankfully, this was one of those times when it did. Luka's entire being seemed to focus on Peter. He could nearly understand what Peter was thinking with his half-lidded eyes and the way he darted his gaze to him every few seconds.

A deliciously evil thought entered his mind, and Luka decided to use his scientific skills to perform an experiment. He cut a small piece of the veal and slowly raised it to his lips, parting them slightly. He stuck out his tongue to meet the morsel. Luka stopped himself from smiling as he saw Peter watching him in return. He swore Peter's breath hitched for a second, and then Luka closed his mouth around the bite, chewing slowly before swallowing. Unfortunately, the results of his little experiment were inconclusive, so he repeated the actions again, opening his mouth a little wider and sliding his tongue out a little bit farther.

Peter stopped eating and stared openly. Luka pretended not to notice and continued eating, adding small sounds of appreciation. Peter had completely stopped what he was doing, staring at him with fascination. Of course, those were the results he'd been hoping for. Luka began to eat normally, pleased with the information he'd been able to glean and deciding what he wanted to do with it. At some point, Peter blinked a few times and went back to his dinner. Luka couldn't help being pleased with himself. Yes, he'd teased Peter a little, but the man was sometimes so reticent Luka wasn't sure how he felt. At least now he had a better idea.

They finished their meals in near silence. By that point there wasn't much food left anyway, and Luka's mind whirled with ideas. Once they were done, Luka leaned back contentedly in his chair, and when the server appeared, asked for the check. He expected Peter to protest, but it was his turn to treat. Peter had done it the last time. Luka pulled out his wallet and paid the bill when it came. He still wasn't sure about tipping. He'd heard you needed to do it from Sheila, one of his colleagues, but he wasn't sure how much. Peter seemed to understand his problem and whispered the amount.

Luka left the money and waited for the server to take the bill before standing up. Peter did the same, and together they walked toward the exit and then out to the car.

"I should take you home," Peter said once they were inside the car.

Luka leaned across the seat, stroking Peter's cheek before pulling him into a light kiss. "Yes. Take me to your home."

Peter paused for a second, and Luka hoped he'd said what he wanted to say. He knew the difference in words was subtle and maybe it was too subtle for his limited skills. He hoped from the shocked look on Peter's face that he'd said it right. Peter started the engine, and they pulled out of the parking lot. Luka watched for signs of the familiar as they rode and didn't see many. He hoped that meant Peter was taking him up on his offer.

After riding for a while and stopping at a number of traffic signals, they pulled up in front of an unfamiliar building. Peter slowed and then turned, parked around the back of the building, and sat in the car without moving.

"I never bring people home with me," he said softly.

"Don't you have visitors?"

Peter shook his head. Then he pulled his key out of the ignition and opened the car door. Luka got out as well and followed Peter up the walk to a back door. Peter unlocked it, and they went inside and down a short hallway. Peter unlocked the door, and Luka followed him into the apartment.

He hadn't known what to expect when he started his little experiment. Would Peter even take him to where he lived? In his culture, allowing someone in your home was a special occasion. It wasn't done on a whim. He'd also wondered what Peter's home would look like, and he wasn't disappointed. It was the perfect reflection of the man he was coming to care for. Peter's place was warm and homey, just like he was. The furniture was old, but appeared comfortable. When Peter motioned him to sit, he did so, and Luka's suspicions were confirmed. The sofa was incredibly soft and seemed to embrace him.

"Would you like something to drink?" Peter asked.

Luka shook his head and patted the cus.h.i.+on next to him. Peter sounded nervous. He went into the refrigerator and got a bottle of beer, then returned to sit next to Luka.

A growl sounded and got closer. Then a gray cat jumped onto the sofa, walked over Luka's lap, and settled on Peter's. The cat's purr was almost deafening.

"This is Milton," Peter said.

Luka slowly reached out his hand and stroked the cat. He was soft and arched his back under Luka's touch. The cat turned and rubbed against Peter's chest before continuing on and doing the same to Luka.

"He likes you."

Luka turned to Peter and said, "And I like you." He tilted his head slightly to the side, ignoring the cat as he pranced over his lap, and moved closer to Peter until their lips met. Luka instantly deepened the kiss. The cat purred, and Peter moaned softly. Luka groaned deep in his throat, adding his own chorus to the sounds of contentment that filled the room.

A thud sounded as Milton's weight disappeared, and Luka s.h.i.+fted closer to Peter, sucking lightly on his bottom lip. Peter hummed, and Luka continued kissing, waiting for Peter to react. He sighed and released the tension he'd been holding when Peter wrapped his arms around him. Peter held him tight, and Luka pressed the other man onto the cus.h.i.+ons. At the edge of his consciousness, he heard Milton protesting his lack of attention, but he ignored it. This was way more important at the moment.

When they came up for air, Luka inhaled deeply, smiling as he gazed deeply into Peter's eyes. Milton protested proudly from the floor near the sofa. Peter's laughter broke the spell.

"He's really angry," Peter told him and then turned his head to the side. "Go on and eat. You'll get some attention later."

Milton mrowed loudly, and Luka sat up. Peter did the same, and Milton jumped onto his lap, purring and rubbing against Peter. He jumped down, and Peter got up and followed the cat to the kitchen.