Caramel Eyes

***********

"I messed up, mom," Denise bawled into her mother's arms a week later, her upper body wracked with sobs. "I should have done what my instinct told me to do last year and broken up with Caleb for Mark." Leela held her daughter tight and gently stroked her back, trying to pull them both through this worst part of parenthood.

She'd browbeaten Denise over the course of several days as to what happened during the previous weekend that made her descend from the bus with red, puffy eyes. All she got as a response on every query was that nothing happened, and that Denise was fine.

As a last resort, she asked her daughter if Mark had harmed her. The dam that Denise had held up throughout the week finally showed its cracks as she told her mother the truth.

"There was nothing you could do, baby," Leela comforted her after hearing the whole story. "You were a decent woman to not change horses in midstream." She paused. "Even when you spotted a stallion." Denise snorted in spite of her tears.

"Mother," she laughed.

"There is no straight woman alive who is going to look at that man and not think 'stallion' if they had to pick a comparable animal," Leela reasoned, which made Denise laugh harder past the streams that were still rolling down her face.

"Look, baby girl," Leela said, rocking Denise back and forth. "Sometimes you have to accept that certain things are out of your hands. Whatever happens next is entirely up to Mark, and there is a fair chance he will decide too much has already happened for him to be with you. I'm so sorry to say it because nothing would make me happier."

"But he told me he loves me, mom," Denise whispered.

"I'm sure he does with all his heart," Leela replied. "But adults make decisions based on more than just love. Mark has a lot to consider here, and we have to respect that."

Denise looked toward her phone resting on her desk, but Leela immediately shook her head.

"Don't do it, baby," she said. "I know it's the worst temptation, but you cannot contact him again. Don't even think of an excuse to justify it to yourself. You already texted him you got home safe on Sunday evening; that's it. You must give him his space."

***********

The following Wednesday was when Mark decided it would be better to stop for groceries on the way home from school instead of going out again later. It was now 10 days since he'd dropped Denise off at the bus station in Sudbury.

His cart full a half-hour later, he stood before the beer and wine section contemplating whether binging on alcohol at this point would do him more harm than good.

"Try the honey lager, dear," a familiar voice said behind him. "Not that I know personally, but I've been told it's yummy." Mark twirled around.

"Mrs. Sinclair," he smiled to his elderly Indigenous neighbour who parked her own cart beside his. "I'm not much of a drinker myself but..."

"Desperate times and all that?" she guessed. "I thought you would be happier, what with your girlfriend visiting last weekend." Mark felt his cheeks grow warm, but was thankful no one would be able to spot a blush on him.

"We... I don't recall seeing you for any part of last weekend, though," he responded.

"No, but I sure heard you two," Mrs. Sinclair grinned. Mark covered his face with both hands and wished he could descend into the Earth. "Oh, don't worry about it, dear," Mrs. Sinclair waved him off with a flourish of her hand. "If you can't do those acrobatics at your age, you're sure not going to be doing them at my age."

"I'm so, so sorry we disturbed you," Mark offered from behind his palms.

"Disturbed?" she laughed. "That was the most entertainment I'd gotten in years! It's a rickety old building, though, and I was never convinced they used enough concrete between each unit." Mark almost started to laugh.

"You know, maybe I will try the honey lager after all," he said, picking up a bottle and looking at it.

"Did your visit not end well, Mark?" Mrs. Sinclair earnestly asked him, touching his arm. Mark sighed.

"I don't know. I don't know if I'm being reasonable or if I'm blowing everything out of proportion." He summarised the fraught nature of how he ended up in Viero in the first place, culminating in Denise's departure two Sunday mornings ago.

"I see," Mrs. Sinclair said after patiently listening. "Give me a minute, Mark. Let me turn this over while I check out and I'll see you outside." Mark appreciated her deliberate nature, which mirrored his own. He admitted to himself that his problem was more his tendency to take forever to mull over a quandary, whereas he knew Mrs. Sinclair would take exactly the minute she asked for.

He put the honey lager back and went into another checkout line, noticing his neighbour was already outside and leisurely looking up at the sky. She happened to be standing by his car.

"So what's the verdict?" he half-joked, secretly eager to hear any wisdom she had to offer.

"Where are you from again?" she asked. "Toronto?"

"One of the cities near there."

"My nephew does law school in Toronto," she said. "Criminal law. He tells me stories sometimes when we Skype. Mark, what are you doing?" she suddenly exclaimed, seeing Mark load her groceries into his trunk while putting his own in his backseat.

"We're going to the same place," he reasoned. "I'm all for exercise as you know, but I'm not letting you walk a kilometer back to the building no matter how nice a day it is." She relented and continued.

"You said the charge against you was dropped when you were in the police station itself?"

"Yup," Mark confirmed."

"That's not how it works, son," Mrs. Sinclair told him. "What should have happened is that even if your lawyer showed up, you would have been held in jail all day Saturday and then appeared before a justice of the peace Sunday in bail court.

"And if you couldn't find someone to bail you out, you'd stay in jail until you plead guilty or had a trial. Or, had the charge withdrawn if the Crown was reasonable, but that would have only happened days later, not hours.

"Whatever Denise said to the police, it was enough for them to call the Crown and ask them to withdraw the charge to help them save face. There is no other way you left the station with no harm within two hours of the incident happening. This girl went to the mat for you."

Mark stopped and simply stared at his neighbour. Then he shut the trunk and held the passenger side door open for her. After they settled in and were on the road, Mrs. Sinclair offered another angle.

"But suppose I wasn't Native and wasn't experienced with police racism in this country," she debated, "The heart of your distrust in her lies with her not being clear that she had a boyfriend when you two met, right?" Mrs. Sinclair asked pointedly. Mark thought about it for a moment before nodding.

"Imagine in another reality, you two had been together the last year and a half. How much would you have trusted her loyalty if you learned she had been dating someone for a couple of months but then left him for you?"

Shit, Mark swore in his head.

"She travelled six hours and 400 kilometers the first chance she got to confirm what she knew all along," the elderly lady said. "I'm struggling to understand where your hesitation lies, Mark. If you're not sure she will love you enough or commit to you, I don't think anyone else will ever meet your standards."

Mark shook his head, gob-smacked by Mrs. Sinclair's lucidity. He couldn't believe how obtuse he was being. He turned into the building's parking lot, urgently needing to call Denise. After running his neighbour's grocery bags up to her door while she took her time getting there, he met her in front of her apartment and warmly embraced her.

"I lost my mom when I was young," he told her, clasping her hands, "but sometimes she comes back to me through different people. You were that person today."

"The love never goes away, my child," she told him. "It just appears in different forms."

"Do you always go shopping on Wednesday afternoons?" he asked, still holding her hands. She nodded. "I'll drive you from now on."

"If you do what I'm hoping you'll do, that won't be very many trips," Mrs. Sinclair smiled.

***********

Denise clutched her shoulder bag on her lap, digging around to where her phone was when she heard it buzzing. The Wednesday evening commute on the GO Train was packed as usual, but today was one of the days she was squished into a seat. Her hands shook when she saw who was calling.

"Mark?" she said in hushed tones. "Is everything okay? The cops haven't given you trouble since I left, have they?"

"No, baby, it's nothing like that," his smooth voice coated her ear. "I wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

"For... for what?"

"I should have called you before now. I love you and I'm not going to have the life I want without you in it." Denise gripped her phone with both hands to try and curb her shaky fingers. "All this time I've been factoring Caleb into this when I really should have been thinking about what things are like when it's just you and me. When I did that, it all became outrageously simple.

"Two weekends ago was the happiest I'd been in a long time," Mark continued. "Well, except for the jail part." Denise gave a weak laugh amid the tears now spilling from her eyes.

"I know it's late notice, but is there any chance you can come back this weekend?" Mark asked. "I'll buy your bus ticket."

By now, the other train passengers were looking at Denise with concern as she cried and shook, her relief palpable since she had started to accept a few days prior that she would never again hear from Mark.

"He's not worth it, honey," a middle-aged white woman sitting across from her said. "You're a beautiful girl; you can do a lot better than some cad who will hurt you over the phone like this."

"Tell whoever said that she's right," Mark laughed. "You absolutely can do a lot better than me. But I'm yours if you'll have me, Denise."

"No, everyone, it's okay," Denise assured everyone around her, half-smiling as she dabbed at her eyes. "The love of my life just told me he wants to be with me too." A knowing murmur arose from the crowd with a few people applauding.

Denise raced home and frantically navigated between two tabs, shutting down the Internet window altogether in her haste and subsequently cursing out her computer. She took several deep breaths and slowed herself. First, she found a Greyhound bus going to Sudbury in two days, then she emailed her work to take a half-day on Friday afternoon.

Pick me up Friday at 5:30 p.m.? she texted Mark. He texted her back several heart and firework emojis, making her smile. Next, she called her mother, who was relieved that Mark had contacted Denise again, but jokingly lamented she would have to close the restaurant herself all weekend.

Thursday came and went with Denise feeling like she was sailing through the day. Friday, she planned to take her travel bag with her to work and then catch the Greyhound from the GO station without returning home.

With a spring in her step and her hair freshly curled, she pulled her suitcase behind her out the door Friday morning and locked up her apartment. Then she turned around and froze.

"Caleb?"

He was a bit of a confusing sight, wearing a few days of stubble on his face but also a crisp three-piece suit. He held flowers in his left hand, while his right one remained in his pocket.

"Babe, I know you're on your way to work but if you have five minutes..."

"Um, sure," Denise squinted against the morning sunlight peeking in through the foyer windows of her building. "What are you doing here? Especially now?"

"I was wrong, Denise," Caleb said. "I should have seen that what you were saying a few weeks back was that you wanted to be with me forever. I should have jumped right then at the chance to be with you."

What in god's name is happening right now? Denise thought, stunned.

"I've been miserable without you all this time," he continued. "I was stupid. I shouldn't have said I didn't love you enough; I do. I just didn't understand then how much I would need you."

Caleb handed her the flowers, then sank down to one knee and peered up at her, pulling his right hand out of his pocket. Then he opened the ring box he held to reveal a princess-cut diamond set in a yellow gold band.

"Will you marry me, Denise?"

***********

Mark felt like it was Christmas morning while waiting at the Sudbury bus terminal a half-hour before Denise's bus was due to arrive, just in case it was early. He couldn't wait to scoop her up in his arms. Then his phone buzzed.

Hey, there's something I need to tell you, Denise texted him. I would have said something earlier but I needed some time to process. Mark felt a twinge of uneasiness.

Okay, he responded. Go for it.

Caleb was at my door this morning just as I was leaving, Denise wrote. He was crying and said he made a huge mistake three weeks ago.

"No, god, no," Mark said to himself, "This is not happening again. This is not happening again." He leapt up and went inside the terminal toward the men's room, thinking he might throw up. His phone buzzed again and against his better judgment, he looked at the incoming text.

He begged me to take him back and said he was stupid to think that he didn't love me enough to have a future together, Denise had written. Then he asked me to marry him.

Mark shoved his phone in his pocket and rested his sweaty palms on his knees, almost hyperventilating. Luckily the men's room was empty. He willed himself to talk to Denise instead of reverting to his tendency to shut down and go nuclear. After he focused inward and straightened up, he pulled out his phone again, ready to accept whatever would happen.

What did you decide to do? he typed. Then taking another deep breath, he walked out of the restroom. A few feet away stood Denise.

"I thanked him," she said. "Because it was his stupidity that forced me to be smart about who I really wanted to be with." She beamed at Mark as she neared him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Jesus Christ, woman, you couldn't have just told me all this in person?" Mark breathed, his heart rate slowing under Denise's touch. "I damn well almost had a heart attack in there."

"Oh, no!" she said. "Did you... did you think I wasn't going to show up and I was dumping you over text? After everything I went through to get here with you?" Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

"No, I--" Mark interrupted himself. "That's exactly what I thought."

"Hey," Denise smiled at him, just when he thought she'd be upset at his reaction. "It's you and me now. I don't care if I have to get numb-bum on the Toronto-Sudbury bus every weekend; it's you and me now, Vasquez."

***Epilogue, 3 months later***

"Mark, it's bad form for a hostess to leave her own party," Leela scolded her daughter's boyfriend as he pulled her out of the restaurant's kitchen toward the back office.

"I know you're the life of it, but it's not actually your party, Mrs. Ramdas," Mark replied, towering almost a foot over her as he reached to push the office door closed. "Denise is out there, and everyone's eating and having a great time. They're not going to miss us for five minutes."

He pulled his shoulder bag out from behind the office couch and retrieved a small box. Leela gasped. She gingerly opened the box and peered at the gold band that featured a large teardrop-cut topaz stone, outlined with tiny diamonds.

"I know it's unusual but it reminded me of her eyes," Mark explained. "And if she wants to do a Hindu wedding as well at your temple, just help me pick out a marriage necklace and I'll be there with bells on."

"The ring is beautiful," Leela said in a hushed voice. "Nevermind planning a wedding right now; just worry about one thing at a time. When are you going to ask her?"

"Tonight," he said. "I thought I could take her somewhere special, but I wanted your ideas. And of course, your blessings."

"Of course, my boy," Leela said, closing the box and embracing Mark, barely coming up to his chest. "Go to the pier. I used to take her there all the time to play when she was a little girl." Then a thought occurred to her.

"Are you sure this isn't all going too fast?" she said. "Don't get me wrong; I support you and I'm thrilled for you, but it's my responsibility to ask." Mark nodded vigorously, knowing the answer to this one because he'd mulled it over so deeply over the past few weeks.

"Well, I thought of the alternative," he said. "And that was waiting indefinitely on something I'm sure about now." He let out a rueful laugh. "I would know better than anyone that thinking about something for a really long time doesn't necessarily mean you'll get the answer right." Leela smirked while nodding her head.

"What about work, though?" she asked.

"No issues about that; I've already interviewed at three different schools since I got back," Mark said. "I'm sure I'll get an offer from at least one of them before classes start a couple of weeks from now."

"Oh, is there a chance you'll be teaching at the same place as your handsome friend?" Leela's eyes lit up as Mark chuckled.

"I'm assuming you mean Cole? Nah, we haven't been able to land at the same school so far but maybe one day. Besides, we're probably going to spend some time apart anyway." Mark quickly went on at seeing the worried look on Leela's face.

"It's nothing bad; we still exercise together a couple times every week. It's just... he recently got engaged as well, and..."

"You can't stand her."

"I've tried, and I thought it was just me. Then when Denise met her last week..." he shrugged.

"Oh dear, then it's not just you. And Cole has been with her since before you two met Denise, hasn't he?"

"Two baffling years. He's an amazing guy and Janice is just... high maintenance," Mark said tactfully.

"That's quite a while," Leela seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Denise's dad and I had a whirlwind romance and got married four months after our first date."

"What?!"

"Yes. But our time together was short. He was killed in a workplace accident when Denise was only two. She probably didn't mention him to you because she doesn't remember him." She came back to the present and glanced up at Mark, her eyes shining. "Sometimes you don't need a long time together to just know.

"And sometimes, like it seems with Cole, you may be making a mistake despite being together a while. It's his journey, though, Mark. Just support him as I'm sure he'll support you and Denise racing down the aisle." The corners of her mouth finally turned upward again.

"Besides, you're already living in sin so it might as well be official," Leela smirked while Mark looked at his shoes with an embarrassed smile.

"It was her idea, I promise you. She said it would be easier than me looking for an apartment as soon as I got back into town. Plus..." he grinned, "it proved useful when Caleb showed up again last week." Leela gasped loudly.

"Noooo!"

"Yup!" Mark laughed. "I actually felt sorry for the guy. Denise had a day off and I came home from an interview around 4:30, and there he was knocking on the door. I just told him hi, and unlocked it to let myself in." Leela was whooping. "He asked me if I'd just moved in, and I said yes, I moved in with the pretty girl who already lives here."

"Oh, good god, why didn't you record all this for me?" Leela said through her hand on her mouth.

"He didn't believe me," Mark continued. "Then Denise opened the door, looked at Caleb, looked at me, kissed me hello, pulled me inside, and closed the door." Leela slowly nodded while stifling her laughter, a mix of pride and amusement all over her face. Mark had just put the ring box back and zipped up his shoulder bag when the office door opened.