Dar

The next morning, I wake up swiftly and with a wish on my mind. The Giver is frying eggs in the kitchen while singing a beautiful rendition of "Hallelujah" under his breath. He doesn't know I'm awake so I watch him while wrapped up in my frilly pink comforter. He is singing into the spatula and swaying back and forth with eyes closed. I clear my throat and Artemis looks at me. He is not embarrassed; he only gives me a bright smile and stops his chanting under his breath.

"Good morning!" he says brightly, "I'm just making some breakfast for us. Do you like sunny side up or scrambled eggs?" I laugh at his unabashed expression and sit up.

"Sunny side up, please," I say and then pause, "Why don't you just make this stuff appear?" He is moving the food onto some hot pink plates from the cupboard.

"I like doing things sometimes, you know," he says and brings over the eggs and bacon from the kitchen to the bed. My apartment is like one big room, you see. So the kitchen and bedroom are basically... the same area. Only the bathroom is partitioned off and it’s okay because I like it. But ever since Artemis has arrived, it has become a little cramped.

"Artemis, what the heck do you do when I sleep?" I ask. Artemis takes a bite of his food and chews with a wistful expression on his face. When he finishes he gives me a little smile.

"I sleep for about an hour, sometimes two when I'm really tired. And then I go do things. Last night I went to Paris, France and ate a crepe and drank espresso. Adele and Leo were there too."

"Why didn't you invite me?" I ask, feigning sadness. He rolls his eyes and mutters, "What do you want to do today?" I know exactly what I want.

"I want Jude to call me and ask me out," I blurt out.

The Giver's smile dies and he gives me an annoyed look. "Seriously?" he asks. I laugh at his disgusted face.

"Yes!" I say, "I have a good feeling about him."

"You do remember one of the rules, right? I can't make anyone love you. You can't ask me for that."

"I'm not asking for you to make him fall in love with me. I am asking you to just give him some oomph in the date department." Artemis is getting even more irritated now.

"Fine," he lastly sighs, "I'll make the idea pop into his head." He shakes his own head in a defeated manner and then smiles, saying, "You know, Adele wants to see you." I grin at this.

"Does she really?" I ask. I recall her painstaking beauty and I suddenly feel embarrassed. She had been married to Artemis. We note this change in the room, but are interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone. I lunge for it. The Giver sings under his breath, "I wonder who that is!" as he gets up and walks away.

It's Jude.

And he asks me out to dinner.

I accept.



Artemis is invisible as we walk down the street towards the restaurant. It's in a low key neighborhood in Los Feliz, The lights are low and I can feel the low warmth of the day emanating from the concrete below me. It is beautiful and peaceful and Artemis is mad at me.

"I don't see why we have to go to this. I think you're being delusional about Jude Armstrong," he mutters under his breath. I don't care what he says. I look great and feel great. My dark hair is down and wavy, my green eyes are lined with thick black eyeliner, and I'm wearing dark red lipstick. And I'm wearing one of my sister's dresses from the nineties, a dark burgundy creation that clings to my hips. It feels wonderful. So I ignore my Giver's sour mood.

"You can go if you want, you know. I mean, you can do whatever you want while I'm here. Go visit the pyramids, go talk to Adele," I whisper. Artemis snorts out a sarcastic laughter.

"And miss out on this train wreck of an event? No, count me in," he says and walks through the wall once again, while I pull open the handle. I'm scowling in his direction, but the expression evaporates once I spot Jude at the corner of the restaurant. He stands up when he sees me. And he looks better than ever, wearing dark jeans and a simple navy blue v-neck.

"Hi!" I greet him as I make my way over to him. Instinctively, I reach out with a hand to shake, but he laughs and gives me a quick one armed hug. I want to die.

"Hello Hattie," he says back with a warm smile. The Giver is standing beside him, trying hard not to laugh at my awestruck and red face.

"How are you?" I ask and sit at the table. The restaurant is small and warm with honey colored walls and patches of brick peaking through, as if the building is hundreds of years old. There are people surrounding us having conversations, occasionally glancing at Jude because he's a star of course. He sits down across from me.

"You look lovely," he comments and I offer him a pleased beam.

"Thank you. You look great too," I reply. His blue eyes are welcoming and I know that I can talk to him openly, so I keep on talking. "This place reminds me of a place back in Tulsa. It's owned by one of my best friend's mom and it's cozy and inviting, just like this. It even smells like it in here. I kind of want to close my eyes and remember home when I'm in here."

Artemis flashes me a glare before continuing on his pacing back and forth in the back of the restaurant. Jude, however, only gives me a compassionate glance and says, "Really? I get that feeling every time I step into this small bookstore on the corner of Edwards and Maine. I grew up in Montgomery, Alabama and my favorite place was this bookstore called Charles' Place. I spent my childhood in there. Sometimes I just drive there to remember what it's like back home because it smells of paper and coffee. I know exactly how you feel. It's the best smell in the world."

I want to hug him, but instead I say jokingly, "We have something in common!" Jude shakes his head and looks down. There is a wave of happy banter that happens next while we eat some very tasty food. We comment on missing our folks. His dad is a plumber and his mom is a school teacher. His sister is a psychologist and he moved to California when he was seventeen in order to be a writer, but was discovered for a film and hasn't stopped working since.

"Can we go now?" Artemis will say loudly in my ear while I try to listen to Jude. He is being completely irritating and when Jude excuses himself to go to the bathroom, I whip out my cell phone and pretend to be talking on it, while really, I'm yelling at the Giver.

"This is going great and it would be better if you would stop yelling in my ear!" I hiss.

"Hattie. We have the world at our fingertips. You can date whenever you want. This is our time," he murmurs lowly.

Suddenly, I realize he means that someday he will leave me. The thought sends a chill down my spine. I have only known him for a week and I already don't want him to leave. It's not because I know he can grant me things or give me whatever I ask for. But it's because I've already forgotten what it's like to be alone and lonely, the way I was before he came. And when he says this, I feel a stab of that same loneliness that seems ages old and I don't want him to leave.

Jude returns quickly and I whip my cell phone back into my brown leather purse. A piece of me is distracted and wanting to dash away and take Artemis with me, but Jude is smiling at me again and I get distracted by that too. Jude senses my distraught expression and asks, "Are you okay?"

I see my way out. "I'm so sorry, Jude. I have to go. My sister is visiting me and is a couple of hours earlier than she said she would be. She's waiting at the airport for me." I don't know where this lie has come from. I have always been a terrible liar, but as I look over at Artemis, he is grinning at me and I know that he has blessed me with this fib.

Jude looks concerned and disappointed and I have an acute sense of satisfaction. He likes me. "Do you need a ride to the airport?" he asks.

"No, no. It's fine, but thank you!" I say and get up. Jude stands up as well and offers me a warm hug. "We should go out again, okay?" he says as I walk away. I nod fervently and say, "Yes. For sure."

Artemis is standing right beside me as I step out of the restaurant. "Are you happy?" I ask dolefully as we walk down into the starry night.

"The happiest," he replies with a grin.



I get curious about what Artemis had mentioned early in the day and request that we take a trip to Paris. He is delighted in my choice and says that we should get spiffed up. I immediately agree. So we walk down Champs Elysee looking absolutely dapper. I'm now wearing a beautiful red dress with a faux fur stole and pearls. My hair is in pin curls and I smell of vanilla. The Giver looks equally fancy with a black tux and dark swept back hair. I know people can see him because they stare as he walks by. He is magic.

He leads us into a dimly lit restaurant and speaks perfect French to the waiter. I look around. Paris is golden. Literally golden. The Eiffel Tower is lit and sparkles in the night and people are about talking and laughing in the streets in their beautiful languages. Artemis puts a hand on the small of my back and says, "Come." I jolt and realize that I have been staring at the window of the eatery.

We walk into the cramped but still elegant space and sit down in a table that is near the window, lit only by the rush of people passing by and a small yellow chandelier that creates a wonderfully bullion ambience. "This is the prettiest place I've ever been," I murmur after the waiter has left. He and Artemis have conversed in friendly French and he is now scurrying away.

"I'm glad you like it. Adele used to say it was too dark, too heavy," he comments and I watch as he takes out a brown cigarette. "Do you mind?" he asks. I shake my head no and he lights it. The waiter returns with a bottle of red wine that Artemis and I gladly take.

Artemis takes a slow drag of the cigarette in his hands while I sip the wine. It is sweet and I like it. Artemis watches me and says, "You surprise me sometimes, Hattie. Sometimes I get Takers who only think of themselves, who see me as only an accessory meant to be taken advantage of. You are not like this."

I laugh. "You mean I'm nice?" I reply. Artemis laughs too.

"Yes. I think. You are a nice girl." He is grinning and I get the sense that he is actually making fun of me. The smoke from his cigarette smells wonderfully sweet and I don't know what to say. I have never seen him like this before. Not collected and cool, but intimate and talkative.

"Where in France did you grow up?" I suddenly ask. His face clouds and he sips some wine. "It is called Nimes. A very beautiful place."

"Why do you do that?" I question. I trace lines in the crystal glass I hold.

"Do what?"

"Become closed off. Try to keep from telling me about yourself."

"Because I am your Giver. We can be friends. Hell, I would like nothing more than friendship, but I will leave one day as will you and you must just remember the good things about me."

"You mean that you should know everything about me and that you leave as some wondrous tale to tell my children? For me to know nothing about you."

A sad expression crosses his features. "I will not be any wondrous story," he states forcefully. I laugh at the indignation in his voice and say, "What were your other Takers like?" His smile returns and he says, "I've had so many."

"Who was your first?"

"A man named Terrence from Bath, England. He was a crazy sort of man, full of excitement. He asked me if I could please give him a lifetime supply of chocolate and cognac. We travelled India on foot. It was one of the best times of my life."

"And who was the worst?" I asked.

"Ha. None were bad. All were great, some were like I said before a bit conceited. But all were great because they were alive when I gave them things. Alive with happiness and greatness. Being a Giver is the best thing in the world."

"Do you miss being a butcher?" I tease.

"Sometimes I do. I miss being with my family and being a butcher."

"I miss my family," I say sadly, remembering my sisters' faces. They both look like my mother, while I look like my father. We have the dark hair and brows and I am the only one who inherited the green eyes. Meredith and Charlotte have blond hair and dark brown eyes. They are beautifully wispy and regal. They are back home in Tulsa, warm and safe in their houses with their husbands and jobs. Charlotte has two daughters and Meredith has one. We are an army of girls that I have separated from. I miss them and want them to come here and marvel at Paris with me. They would laugh at my ridiculously fancy outfit.

"Why don't we visit them?" Artemis asks kindly.

The thought has never crossed my mind. Only because it has seemed to impossible in the past. Its impossibility of visiting has been so permanently stamped into my mind that I forget it is now an option. So I press my fingers to my face and look at the Giver with tearful eyes.

"That would be wonderful," I whisper.