“Hey Dude” I say approaching my dad at the airport.
“Hey Dude! What’s up” he replies with a big smile on his face, coming in for a hug.
“Whazzaaa” I reply a bit louder.
“Wazzaaaaa” he follows a bit louder, sticking his tongue out.
“Chilling, killing” he says.
“True, true.” I nod.
“Yo Dookie!” we both look and shout at Daniel.
Daniel stands there, all prim and proper like a textbook middle-class British guy, trying to seem comfortable after having witnessed two grown up people re-enacting a scene from Scary Movie 2 in the middle of a crowded airport. You can tell he's not quite sure how to handle it, but he's determined to be polite and not make anyone else feel awkward.
“Should we get out of here before we get arrested?” dad says.
The Dude thing started as a joke after we watched “The Big Lebowski” and it stuck. We started calling each other Dude from that day and I don’t remember the last time I called him dad. Then, we added the “wazzaaaa” and this is how we greet each other, no matter where we are. On some level, this basically sums up our relationship and it’s one I cherish the most.
I decided to break tradition and ask Daniel to come on a quick walk with me. I can feel my stomach churning, and I know that if I don’t move soon, I will either be sick or fall asleep, ruining everyone's good time.
Easter traditions around here are pretty intense. Last night, to kick off the festivities, we went to the midnight service at the church. That's when the candle lighting ritual takes place. We all stand in a massive line right in the middle of the street, holding a candle, waiting for the priest to bring the super holy light from inside the church, which only becomes holy at 12am sharp.
Once he does, he starts belting out some Lion King-type songs while he lights the candles of the people in front of him. Then, they pass the flame to the people behind them, creating a chain of lit candles that eventually reaches us. If there was something I’ve always loved about my family is that we like to be picky with what traditions we follow. We're usually fashionably late, sometimes arriving right at midnight. That means we get our holy light and can make a swift exit.
After Christ is well and resurrected, we take a little detour through the cemetery to light candles at the graves of our dead family members, so that their sins are forgiven too. By the time we finally arrive home, it's already past 2 am, and we have to wake up super early to prepare for the epic Easter celebration. Everyone has been fasting for over a month, so today is the day we all get indigestion.
This year, the whole family gathered at my parents' house for a proper feast. My mom saw my homecoming as the perfect excuse to go all out with traditional dishes like lamb, red-dyed eggs, and a sweet bread called "cozonac," similar to Italian panettone. Since leaving the country, my eating habits have changed a lot, so this rich food is really taking a toll on me. Daniel, on the other hand, doesn't seem to mind. Poor guy, he has no clue that we'll be doing this all over again for the next couple of days, hopping from house to house and eating more and more.
“Should we go for a quick lap around the block?” I ask Daniel knowing he won’t refuse me.
"Let's go!" he replies, almost too eagerly. You can't really blame him; he's been doing so well as the only English-speaking person in a room full of loud and passionate Romanians.
They have all been so welcoming and genuinely making an effort with the foreign husband of the runaway daughter. But even so, you can tell how draining it can be for him to be on full alert, ready to engage and make conversation with complete strangers who don't speak his language.
Most people don't usually have any sympathy for Daniel, given he had over 10 years to learn my language, but most people don't know my internal battle with my roots and the complex journey I have been on, from one extreme to the other, now finally seeming to find a healthy balance.
Thankfully, my cousin Leo, who just turned 20, speaks fluent English. This means I’m not on duty 100% of the time. They’ve really hit it off since they met a few years ago so I know he’s in good company.
We get up slowly from the long table, trying to not attract too much attention. Everyone seems to be chatting and drinking and enjoying themselves, I don’t think they will notice.
"Where are you going?" my mother asks with an annoyed expression, her eyebrows furrowed as usual.
“We’re just going for a quick walk. Need to give my stomach a helping hand digesting the yummy food you prepared for us.” I say in a cheery tone, trying to stop the storm already brewing in my stomach.
“What? Now?” she continues, so shocked as if I have announced we were going to fly home a week sooner than planned. The entire room went silent.
Since the “incident”, I told myself that, from now on I will take Daniel’s advice and not rise up to her because some battles you simply can’t win. Even though that familiar ball of anxiety churns in my stomach, I can't afford to make a scene. Instead, I make a superhuman effort to keep my cool and calmly say, "We'll be back in 15.”
“What will your grans say? They came to see you and now you leave? Do not be rude.” she continues pointing her finger at me and ignoring my dad’s discreet pull on her sleeve.
I look at Daniel and he just stands there, looking pleasant and polite, having no clue what’s happening.
I smile back at my mother, control my now shaky tone and repeat my last line "We'll be back in 15 minutes."
Without giving her a chance to reply, I pull Daniel and we go get our shoes and jackets on.
As I turn to wave a quick goodbye to the room, I catch a glance of both my 85-year-old grans, asleep on the sofa. I chuckle.
Daniel and I leave the flat and go on our walk.
“Ahh, quiet!” I say to him breathing in the air. “How are you doing?” I ask.
“Fine. It’s a lot going on” he says laughing.
“Yep! I’m sorry about that. It can be a lot.”
“Yes, but they’re good people. I definitely need to learn the language. You really need to start teaching me,” he says in a serious tone.
“I will,” I reply hesitantly. “Maybe we can find you a course. I have no idea how to start teaching you. Like, where do I even begin? How about Duolingo?”
“No, you need to teach me. Duolingo doesn’t work. You know that.” he says.
I can sense a bit of unease in his tone and instantly feel a bit guilty. I’ve been dropping the ball lately. It’s fine, I can fix it. I just need to help him, it’s a foreign language, if it was easy
everyone would be doing it.
“I’ll teach you, I promise!” I say reassuringly.
Before we know it, the loop around the neighbourhood is done and our moment of freedom was pretty much over.
As we approach the block’s entrance, I notice two men having a conversation. I cannot work out who the shorter man is, but one facing me makes my heart stop. Tall and lean, he looks absorbed in a conversation with the older gentleman, gazing at him with his calm face and his signature wholesome smile. My legs start to lose pace, my heart rate increases, and I can feel my cheeks catching fire. All of a sudden, I become a nervous, sweaty-palm mess.
My spiralling is interrupted by him, now walking towards me, looking me straight in the eyes. As he approaches, he takes his piercing eyes off mine, smiling and leaning in to shake Daniel's hand, intending to acknowledge him first. Still the most polite and decent human I have met, I think to myself.
“Oh my god! Callen! How are you?” I say in a high-pitched, oh-so-normal voice as I greet my oldest friend. “This is Daniel, my husband,” I say. “Daniel, this is Callen, my childhood bro,” I say laughing.
“Hi, Callen! Very nice to meet you. I have heard a lot about you.” Daniel follows in his naturally friendly and engaging style.
I love how British and polite he is, making everyone feel comfortable. He’s also a great social liar. I haven't told him about Callen, or about my other close friend, Ethan. We practically grew up together, the three of us. We were inseparable, hanging out every day after school for as long as I can remember. Since our parents worked weekdays, we became like makeshift siblings, looking out for one another. They both eventually got a sibling, but I still felt like their first sister, even after that.
“Hello! Nice to meet you too!” he says to Daniel and then turns to me “Max! Wow, I didn’t know you were in town. So lovely to see you! It’s been … I don’t even remember how long” he replies with a genuine surprise on his face, leaning down for a full bear hug.
It’s a surreal moment for sure. Callen is now standing right in front of me and. After almost two decades and our first-ever hug, all I can think was that he hasn’t changed a bit. He is taller than I remember, his blond hair shorter, but his face is exactly the same. Unaged, light and bright, still chiseled. I notice a very thin, faint line across his left cheek, I wonder if it’s a scar he acquired during the years in the military or just a very weird wrinkle from the years he spent in the Registan Desert.
“17 years” I say so fast, anyone can tell I didn't do the maths, I just knew. I ignore his shocked face and continue to say “We flew in on Friday. Visiting the family for Easter. How are you? How is your family?”
“They are great, thank you for asking. Maxie is now 8 if you can believe it.”
My eyes widen. “Wow, that is crazy.” I reply with a can-you-believe-it look on my face, knowing full well I didn’t even know he had a daughter. Interesting name! I think to myself.
“You should come up and meet them. Maxie and my wife, Sophia, are upstairs. I know my mum is dying to see you!” he says excited.
I smile at him and quickly turn to Daniel to translate and ask him if it would be ok to pop in. He agrees, as always. This guy is up for anything. I blink a cute Thank you with my eyes and turn to Callen.
“Of course, we would love to,” I reply. “I’m dying to meet Maxie! And Sophia!” I say, recalling that my parents went to their wedding nine years ago and raved about it for months. They gave me all the details; how beautiful they looked together, how much of a hit their wedding was and how everyone loved they have kept it traditional. I remember feeling so deeply happy for him and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to send him a congratulations message.
A wave of joy washes over me. I start to feel like my body does have some good vibes stored in it from this place, it’s not all dark and gloom. I must mature because I feel like I can reconnect with the people who shaped my youth and it isn’t uncomfortable.
Unlike the other kids at school and in the neighbourhood, I was never treated differently when I was around Callen and Ethan. I love how they never treated me like a girl, or the weirdo I thought I was.
In the early 2000s, this was a big deal in Romania. Girls were teased and mocked, especially the ones with unusual and masculine names. They were excluded, especially if they grew up in a neighbourhoods like mine, where the majority of the children were boys. These two guy’s attitudes matched those of my dad, the Dude himself, the first man to toughen and encouraged me to be the person I am today.
I've just realised how fortunate I've been to be around them in a society that was, and still is fundamentally misogynistic toward women. And now, I can’t wait to go upstairs and meet Callen’s family. Damn, I wish I had reached out to Ethan. I think to myself.
“Oh my goshhhh! Hello!!!” I say so excitedly as I hug and greet Callen’s mum and dad and make the introductions. Daniel is still the star of the game, meeting new people like a pro and acting like a supporting number as I make the rounds. I must remember to make it up to him. Big time. 1000 blowjobs.
We walk into the living room and to my shock and surprise I see Ethan waiting for me. I let out a big scream and jump straight into his arms, hanging off him like a monkey.
“I had to no idea you were here! Oh my godddddd!” I scream, kissing him all over his face.
“Well, hello there! You come home and you don’t even call me?” Ethan tries to pretend like he’s mad, but his eyes give him away.
“Hi Daniel, nice to see you again, man. How are you?” He pushes me aside like you would with an annoying little sister in order to greet him.
“I’m very well, thank you. And you?” Daniel replies so relieved to see yet another familiar face.
“You know each other?” Callen asks.
“Umm, yeah... They briefly met a few years ago.” I say coy and quickly jump to ask Ethan all about his family, completely ignoring Callen’s surprised and sort of sad face.
Sophia and Maxie join us in a little while and I am thrilled to meet them both. I get up and go to introduce myself and straight up hugging. Then Emma and Olivia, Ethan’s wife and little girl show up. The whole room is full of laughter. It’s nice. It’s so cozy and comfortable. I feel so happy surrounded by the boys and their families. I look at them both, they look at me and, as we smile at each other endearingly, all I can think of is the clip of Paul Rudd on the Hot Ones saying in awe “Look at us! Hey, look at us. Who would have thought? Not me.” I chuckle and make a mental note to send the clip to the boys later.
Looking at them both, sitting next to me, I can no longer ignore the thoughts and memories of how differently I felt for them. With Ethan has always been the most platonic, comfortable friendship, but with Callen, that’s a completely different story. His presence has affected me in a very specific way.
He was the first boy who aroused in me, from an early age, what it is like to feel another human’s effect on you, on your mind and body. I remember the pit in my stomach, the fuzzy head, the heart beating fast in my throat. But also the shame, the audacity, to think that I am beautiful and normal enough to be allowed to have feelings for such a beautiful, angelic-looking boy. I, the loud, chubby girl who would always have an opinion on everything, had the nerve to have a crush on the cutest boy in the neighbourhood. I remember spending my days praying that my face and actions won’t betray me, and that no one would know how I truly feel.
Callen, my first love, whom I have avoided seeing and talking to for the last 17 years, is now sitting next to me. A sense of relief comes over me. He’s not that scary!
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be able to sit next to him, his wife and daughter, accompanied by my own husband, and feel at ease, relaxed, and truly content that I can have a friendly, human conversation without being overpowered by my intense feelings for him.
It felt great.
We spent a few good hours reminiscing about our childhood and teenage years, laughing until we couldn’t breathe anymore.
“Callen’s flat is right under mine so our bedrooms are straight on top of each other. And back then, the heating pipes ran from the groundfloor to the top floor in the corner of each room. And if you’d tap it in the right place on the radiator attached to them, the person above or under you could hear it.” I explain to Daniel laughing my tits off. “And he used to tap on the radiator almost everyday and we would have full blown conversations through our own Morse code until my mum would go absolutely ballistic. She used to get so angry about the noise we would make and how we would be disturbing the other neighbours” I say laughing and imitating her enraged voice watching Callen’s face nodding in approval.
The memories inundated my brain and body. I suddenly remember every tap, every sound, every time. I am immediately in my childhood bedroom, feeling my body stiffen every time I heard his timid tap, unable to move for the first few seconds because, no matter how many times it happened, it surprised me everytime. That he remembered me, that I might have popped up in his head. I was so dumb back then, I chuckle to myself.
“Oh yes!” Callen joins in from across the sofa. “Remember how we used to hang over the bedroom window talking? I used to twist my neck for hours looking up at you!” Callen continued laughing.
Damn, I forgot all about that. The moment he said it, I remember his little head twisted up, and squinted eyes, smiling at me.
“And when you two would fall out, it was my turn to shine” Ethan follows up with a cocky smirk. “We used to talk through the hole in the bathroom wall.”
“Wait, what?” I reply in shock.
“Did you all grow up on the set of Annie? What in the Eastern Europe is going on here?” Daniel follows up quickly, laughing.
We all burst out laughing.
“Were you not allowed to talk outside the house?” he asks again in a pretend outrage.
“We were!” I said laughing. “We were rebels!”
“Yeah, true warriors!” Ethan says sarcastically “Hiding from our parents, talking to our friends when we’re supposed to do homework.”
“OK so what’s this thing with the bathroom wall? I never knew about this.” I ask as soon as I catch my breath.
The boys are now laughing uncontrollably.
Daniel is trying to keep up.
I need the details.
“Oh yeah” Callen said laughing and nodding, hitting Ethan’s leg repeatedly. “In the bathroom, where the drain pipe for the sink goes in the wall connected with Ethan’s. And the pipe was smaller than the hole so we could hear and see each other.” Callen explains to me.
“And we would just sit on the cold tiles hugging that fucking hole talking about god knows what for hours.” Ethan continued to say.
We are now all out of breath from laughing. We carry on reminiscing and telling our partners about all the stupid shit we did during those years. I don't think they were into it as much as we were. The kids definitely lost interest at this point.
After a few hours and way too many beers, it’s time to leave. I actually forgot about my mum and how mad she must be, watching the clock, waiting for us to come back, getting angrier by the minute. I’m kind of looking forward to see it. I’m a sadist like that.
We all get up and crowd the small hallway looking for our shoes. We are dragging out our goodbyes, chatting and laughing.
The next moments are unfolding at normal speed for the group, but for me, it feels like time has stopped.
As I wait for Daniel to say goodbye to Ethan, I feel an intense grip on my right shoulder. It's as if someone is squeezing it firmly and intentionally from behind, sending the much familiar cramp through my stomach and gut that culminates in my toes. It's a sensation that's both new and old.
I know exactly who is standing behind me. I also know it’s the first and only gesture of intimacy, of a secret language between us. An unfamiliar, confusing feeling takes over me. I have the urge to turn around and show him how this affects me, but I also have a husband who I love. All I do is stand there, numbed and slightly turned on, waiting for the heatwave in my stomach to pass.
The noise and chatter of the small hallway starts to come back and I can finally feel my feet again. I can see Callen’s mum coming at me for a goodbye hug.
“It was lovely to see you, dear! You are so beautiful!” she says hugging me tightly.
“Oh stop! Thank you so much for having us.” I say squeezing her tightly.
Phew! I got my normal energy back, I can now look at Callen and say goodbye.
I turn around and see him, still as a statue, eyes fixated on mine, as if we were the only people in the room.
“Let’s not wait another decade until we see each other!” he says in a deep, serious tone.
I smile as I lift on my tippitoes to reach up and hug him goodbye. Somewhere in that hug, my lips found their way to the juncture where the base of his neck meets his right shoulder.
No forethought, just pure instinct taking the reins. I’ve never really experienced anything like it. My body was merely a passenger, swept away by a force I had never encountered before.
Fuck! Time stopped again. What did I just do? I immediately ask myself, as my face sinks a little too deeply into his bare neck.
I feel the warmth of his skin on my lips and his pulse on the side of my cheek. I also feel his hands on my back as they grip me from side to side, squeezing me so tightly that I can barely breathe. A fiery shiver races down my back as he exhales, his head now buried deep in my hair and neck. It sets off another wave of intense heat that electrifies every inch of my body.
He finally lets go of the hug and is now facing me. He is so close to my face, I can feel his heart beating and heat radiating through his skin. I am actually surprised at how easy it is for me to keep eye contact, forgetting about my face and how stupid it must look, and only focus on his. I can’t even do that with Daniel. I count this as personal breakthrough!
The deeper I look, the more I see. The more of him I remember. If you ask me, I can’t articulate what I’ve learned in those quick seconds but all of a sudden, I know him limbically, in my gut. I know his essence, his struggles, his instincts.
He is the oldest memory stored in my body.
The room reappeared and we were back in the real world. The 13-year-old me would have freaked the fuck out.
“See you in another 17 years,” I say with a laugh, trying to conceal the tremor in my voice.
I hope none of the people around us saw the weird and borderline inappropriate shit that just went down.
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