Glitter

"Dianna?" Mrs. O' Reilly called from the rec room. She'd been sitting with a library book on her lap when I last left her, brown head bowed in attentive submission. Placing the duster I'd been holding for the past two hours on a nearby side table, I walked towards her voice.

"Yes, Mrs. O'Reilly?"

"Did you know that Samuel is going to be coming home today?"

I peered into the room to see a smiling, rather excited face looking back at me. Eyes as blue as forget-me-nots, with a small mouth and a rather pasty face, Mrs. O'Reilly was as plain as she was forgetful. I whipped the loose strand of hair that escaped from my bun back into it and searched my mind desparately for some instance where a Samuel had been mentioned. I failed miserably.

"Samuel, Mrs. O'Reilly?"

The woman was old, in her late seventies and senility was fast becoming characteristic of her. I was quite fond of her, to be honest, if I chose to forget the back breaking work it took me to keep my job and had I been the sort of person to actually let myself care for people; one could say that I almost quite loved Mrs. O'Reilly. She was a very kind woman, alzheimers and all, and was absolutely adorable. But that was, of course, if one didn't take into account the hard labour she insisted that all her housekeepers took part in.

"Of course, Samuel. He's due in any minute now, you know. I hope you've gotten his bedroom in order. He always likes to sleep in his own room when he comes for visits."

And then it clicked.

Samuel O'Reilly.

Her nephew and the couple's adopted son. Smacking my hand to my forehead, I sucked in a calming breath. I'd just realized that I had to work double the pace now if I wanted to be home before dinner time (I didn't like to be around during dinner because Mrs. O'Reilly always insisted on me joining them). Samuel's room needed to be cleaned; his bed made and fluffed and the change of clothes in his closet laundered.

While I'd never really met this elusive nephew of theirs, I was no stranger to the empty boy's room that I was required to dust and keep clean.

Of course, there were pictures, but I highly doubted that the dark haired, green eyed, toothless child looked anything like the eighteen year old man Samuel was supposed to be now.

"Do you happen to know what time he's meant to be in?" I asked, counting off the hours in my head. There went lunch hour and the walk down to the grocers to get the O'Reilly's some more food. It semmed like I'd have to drive down instead.

"Oh, I don't really know. But I'm sure that he's meant to be in quite soon, actually. He's expected here for dinner."

Ah, of course.

He was expected in for dinner. It would have been terribly inconsiderate for him to drop in any other time, really.

"I'll get to his room in a few minutes then." I gave her a curt smile before turning my heels and making my way up the stairs. Her voice wafted through the doors before I'd even reached the first step. "And Dianna, could you stay until he got here? I'd most like for the two of you to meet, you know."

Gripping the banister, I shook my head but replied anyway. "Sure, why not?"

"So, you'll be able to pick him up from the airport?"

Making a face, I paused for a few minutes before giving my answer, "I don't..."

"Mr. Josef has called in sick and I'd very much like Samuel to be driven here rather than have him catch one of those nasty cabs."

And the decision was made.

"Sure, Mrs. O'Reilly," I yelled back. Anything for you, Mrs. O'Reilly.

I could hear her thanks, even from the top of the stairs. She sounded cheery.

And there went dinner, it seemed.



I've never liked airports. They're always so busy - full of people and noise. Imagine then, my uttmost disdain when I had to sit in one for three very long hours.

Samuel's plane kept getting delayed.

Holding the placard up in front of mye a little higher, I scanned the new crowd of arrivals for the dark hair and green eyes that had been described to me by Mrs. O'Reilly.

It didn't help that about three quarters of the crowd had that exact same colouring.

When the crowd had thinned down to a fine trickle, a tall, well built boy came stalking towards me. He had a scowl on his face and a duffel bag slung hapharzadly over his shoulder. I had to bite my lip to keep from scowling back at him.

"You Dianna?" he asked me roughly, eyes scanning the crowd over my head.

I put the placard down and looked up at the boy's face. He was a whole head taller than me, and he was two years my junior.

My height inferiority complex flared to life.

"You Samuel?" I asked back. My voice was surprisingly very calm.

He nodded curtly.

"Good, follow me then."

Turning on my heel, I walked towards the exits, dumping the makeshift placard into the nearest bins. I had reached the large swinging doors when I realized that he didn't follow me.

"Hey!" I walked back inside the building.

He was still standing there, looking around.

"Are you okay?" I asked, touching his arm. He didn't respond. He looked lost, to be honest, and a little forlorn.

Suddenly, he found what he had been looking for and his face turned a very bright red. I followed his gaze to find a small, pixie sized blond standing next to a dark haired man. They seemed quite cozy and it didn't need a genius to figure out what was going on.

"Samuel?" I asked again. This time, I was genuinely concerned. It wasn't a nice feeling to be caught off guard like he was.

His eyes snapped towards me and for a small second, the emotion in them spilled over. But it only lasted a second because suddenly, his expression had hardened and he looked every inch the son only son of a self confessed millionaire he was raised to be.

"Let's go then, shall we?"

My hand dropped from his arm and I nodded slowly.

"Whatever you say, boss."



"Do you think she's avoiding me?" Alex asked me one day. We were stretched out on the small balcony that overhung the only cafe in town that sold decent moccachinos. The landlord, Mrs. Jones, owned the cafe - and as kind and generous as she was - supplied Nora and I with the best coffee beans and pastries her shop could offer for free.

'Girls ought to have some curves,' she never hesitated to tell me when she handed the goodies over. I'd always been either too tired or embarrassed to reply. My wounded pride, in an attempt to gather some semblance of dignity, would vehemently refuse the delicious pastries and freebies in a heartbeat. But the realistic part, the real me that had had to get used to working ten hour days for minimum wage? That part wouldn't't dare refuse. A steady stream of hot coffee, the odd bits of food and old magazines did wonders to heal the wounds of fatigue and a non-existent social life.

You learned a few things about surviving when everything that you'd grown up knowing as a necessary convenience was taken away from you.

It was random visit number five and Alex and Nora still hadn't met face to face yet. Anyone with half a brain would have figured out that she was, indeed, ignoring the man, but I couldn't make myself tell him that. Brutal honesty was something I reserved only for those that I had no respect or like for. Alex certainly didn't fall into that category - not anymore at least.

Glancing over at the man, I watched his brown eyes skim over the city scape before falling back on mine. When they finally did, I blushed. "I don't know," I told him as honestly as I could.

Leaning on his elbows - he was lying on his back - he wriggled his toes for a few minutes and smirked. "I'd say that she was avoiding me." The sudden nostalgia in his voice made me frown.

"Well ..." knowing the right thing to say at the right time had never been my strongest suit. I let the word hang there for awhile and decided against saying more. For all the twenty one years that I've lived, letting my mouth run free in some attempt to give comfort usually brought on more pain than anything else.

He nudged my side (oh yes, we had reached the nudging each others side to say something stage), and gave a short laugh. "You make a great therapist, you know."

Unsure on how to react, I just shrugged. My self inflicted social isolation had been brought about exactly because of how terribly awkward I was around people. If I could re-write this story and paint myself as a more graceful, gracious hostess to the lead singer of one of the best boy bands in the United States, I probably would have. But of course, then it would belong more in the fiction section and I'd had no idea then on who Alex truly was. He'd just been the man who showed up at random hours of the night outside my door with yummy food and a story to tell. And let me tell you something, did he have stories to tell or what!

But never had it crossed my mind to ask him about who he really was, or what he needed from Nora. I guessed that a part of me was too afraid of losing the only real company I'd ever had since I first got to this god-forsaken country and so I ignored the most obvious questions any other sane, socially healthy person would have asked. Funny how you realize how much you're missing of something once you get it back.

"I try, you know."

And he laughed again.

The questions resurfaced and I felt the mental argument ensue once more. His relationship with Nora was none of my business, and no, I didn't need to know. And of course, I didn't care. When we'd first moved in with each other, we'd agreed first and foremost on each others' privacy being respected. So, I was going to respect Nora's. Alex was part and parcel of her privacy and, the realization hit much harder than I'd thought it would, her person. It would have done me good to leave the problem alone and let them deal with it, in their own time.

But - I glanced over at Alex, eyes drinking in the sight of the quirks and smiles that were him - the thought of having to cut him out of my own life, of not caring about him at all, it hurt. As cliche as that made me sound like, it was the truth. Friends were not something I made easily, and the fact that Alex had so comfortably and easily fallen into my life like he had, it made me grow attached to him - like one would to a toy that they knew they'd have to give back sooner or later.

I didn't want to give Alex back, not now, not ever.

After five chats over coffee and biscuits.

If that highlighted some tragic flaw in my mind set then so be it.

"Why do you need to meet Nora so badly?" the question, spoken out loud, didn't sound as foreboding as it had in my mind.

He sucked in a deep breath and sat up.

That's it, I started to panic, he's going to leave now and never come back because you'd opened your big mouth and asked him a personal question.

"I think it's kind of complicated, really."

Sitting up beside him, I put the book I'd been holding away and touched his arm. "You can tell me, you know. I mean, I wouldn't tell anyone else if that's what you're worried about."

He glanced at me, watched me for a few minutes, and then smiled. What was Alex without that smile?

"I know you won't tell anyone, silly Dee," he ruffled my hair. Making a face, I hit him on the arm. Way to destroy a tender moment there, bro.

"Don't call me that," I told him. "I hate that nickname."

"At least it's better than Alex Walex."

I burst out laughing and got up.

"But I thought you liked that nickname."

The familiar voice, an intrusion that I found myself hating as soon as I recognized it, had Alex and I spinning around so fast, we got whiplash.

Nora stood at the window that we'd climbed through, dark eyes glued on Alex's face. I glanced quickly back at Alex - searching for something that I had no right to expect from him - and literally found my heart drop when I saw the expression on his face.

It was ... it was just.

The sudden rush of emotion that washed over me caught me so off guard that I could barely even give Nora the expected smile. The worst, most terrible part about all this was the fact that I had no idea why I was feeling this way.

No idea.

"I have to go," I whispered. They didn't even hear me.

It was as if, for those first few minutes, they had been thrown into the slow motion world of loves at first sight and unexpected beauties. Nothing else existed for them.

I didn't know how I got to the front door; my bag and purse in my shaking hands. When I turned around to see them once more, Nora was in Alex's arms and they were embracing.

I really couldn't have gotten out of that apartment fast enough.