I have learned so very much from observing Lubos. It is a privilege to watch an experienced brother at work.
My patience was insufficient to make me wait until the proper time. Rather than interfere with Lubos’s work, I went instead to the restaurant where Freya was to meet her new companion.
My first impression of him was an ocean of calm. He was reading the menu, aware that Freya was running late, but unconcerned. He knew that she would come, that he had made enough of an impression on her to draw her to him. I have never met a human so confident in himself. Most of them are constantly plagued by self-doubt.
I would have hoped for more excitement at the chance to spend an evening with her, but I can see why Lubos selected him. Freya needs someone who is steady and patient, who is able to bear her flaring moods. He is like stone, which can stand up to the fire.
Physically he suits her, too. When she arrived, turning heads in the crowded room with her shimmering hair and sleek black dress, he rose to greet her, and they looked very well together. He is tall, with the same strength in his frame that is evident in hers. His brown hair, cut short, contrasts with her fall of red. I could see that she finds him pleasing, too, her eyes flicking from the small white scar on his brow to his strong, callused hand, taking hers. His aura merged with hers, soothing the flames. Anxiety continued to pulse through her, but it fell back from the surface at the sight of him.
“Drink?” he asked her, smiling.
“Please,” she said fervently.
He signaled for the bartender—they were seated at the bar, which I found unromantic, but Lubos explained that it was a conscious choice on the man’s part. To have sat face-to-face for several hours would have been too difficult for Freya’s nerves—she was much more comfortable with an excuse not to look at him.
“He knows her well,” I observed to Lubos. “What is their history with one another?”
“College friends,” Lubos explained. “His name is Ryan, and he has in the past considered pairing with her, but their paths have not crossed since they left Princeton. I had to go to some lengths to bring them together.”
This impressed me. To arrange a situation in which two compatible people meet, when they otherwise would not, is something I have not yet needed to do. I am rather dreading it, in fact—my senior Cupids have often complained of how difficult it can be.
We watched as Ryan and Freya made somewhat awkward conversation. Ryan was amused by Freya’s discomfort, but he was gentle with her, for which I was grateful. It took all of my self-control not to try and soothe her, but that would have been an insult to Lubos—she is, after all, his assignment and not mine.
When I mentioned this to him, he chuckled. “Sometimes it is better not to have them so dependent on our support,” he said. “Especially someone like Freya, who moves so quickly between moods.”
One of those quick mood changes came over her soon after that. I am not certain whether it was the arrival of her martini, or the joke that Ryan told as Freya took her first sip. Whatever it was, she suddenly dissolved into laughter and turned to share a memory with Ryan, as comfortable as if she were sitting in her own living room.
“You see?” Lubos said. “This allows her to believe that he will soothe her worries, without feeling the need to search for me. It builds trust between them.”
I will have to try this on Ramona. She certainly can depend on Jesse, and perhaps if I am not always so close to her, she will do so more.
Reminisces from their college days move into complaints about their work, though it does seem to me that Ryan is quite content in his work. My Cleaner and Cultivate friends will be pleased to hear that he works for an environmental non-profit organization, organizing litter cleanups and spreading encouragement throughout his area to value the earth. In fact, he is planning an event within the city of Hartford, where he lives, and he invited Freya to come and join.
“I’d love to,” she said honestly, but when they consulted their schedules, they learned that Freya’s own work will require her to be in Tampa on the week in question. Another event, this one in Providence (it seems Ryan sometimes travels to different offices also controlled by his company), also conflicts with her schedule—she will be attending a wedding that weekend.
“Busy girl,” Ryan said, undaunted. He leaned closer with a smile. “I remember that about you—you were always flying around, making people happy, making the world a better place.”
“Well, what about you?” she asked, pleased by the description of herself. “That is literally your job description.”
“Well, I make it cleaner. No guarantees about whether it’ll stay that way.”
“At least you’ll always have your job,” she said, and they laugh.
He tapped on his phone, folding his arms and looking at her. “We don’t have any offices in Boston yet, but I have a buddy who does the same sort of thing in this neck of the woods. I’ll give him a call—maybe we can both volunteer sometime.”
This seemed to Freya to be unnecessary condescension, and she stirred her drink, keeping her smile. “I’d hate for you to go out of your way,” she said.
“Too late for that, Frey,” he replied with a laugh. “May I remind you I’ve got a two-hour drive still tonight?”
With a flash of anger, she straightened up. “No one is making you stay,” she snapped.
“Hey, hey, that’s my point.” Ryan caught her hand. His aura, washed with blues and yellows, soothed the flare of her heat. “I’m here because I want to be. You’re well worth the trip, trust me.”
Freya settled back into her chair, keeping her eyes away from Ryan.
He smiled as he asked, “What about you? Would you go out of your way to see me?”
This seemed to me to be too much pressure, but Lubos read my anxiety and lifted one wing to reassure me. “Peace, brother,” he said, and there was laughter in his voice. “It will take far more than this to defeat the woman.”
This proved to be the case, as Freya turned to meet Ryan’s gaze directly and answered with honesty. “Yes. I would.”
“Even though I make you nervous?” Ryan said, tracing one finger up her arm.
She shivered—I wonder what causes that reaction?—but leaned closer to him. “You’ve gotta put yourself out there sometime, right?” she murmured, and their lips met.
The kiss did not last long—both of them were aware of their location, and humans do not like to exhibit their affection for one another. As if love in any form were something that should be hidden away.
Their food arrived, and they ate in companionable silence, sometimes watching the basketball game[1] on the television behind the bar, sometimes one another. Freya seemed happy, but also relieved that she could rest in the silence. Tension is something that she can ignore if she must, but she recognized and appreciated the difference between his company and the company of others.
“Pay heed to the man as well, Asa’el,” Lubos reminded me. “Freya may be our assignment, but when you tend to a pair, they are both your responsibility.”
His advice surprised me, but I turned my attention to Ryan and saw that it was true—there was something on his mind, a question that he seemed to have been considering for some time. Only a moment after I saw it, he turned to Freya and asked, his voice casual, “So, you remember Jennifer, right?”
Freya’s calmness vanished, and I could see the muscles tensing all up her spine. She lowered her fork and reached for her napkin, every motion careful and smooth. “Of course,” she said.
I was confused, but there was no time to ask Lubos for enlightenment, or to look for it in either person’s mind.
“Well, she’s still in Boston. She’s engaged now, did you know that?”
Freya smiled tightly. Everything about her was tight, guarded—even her aura was gathering close to herself. “Obviously you remember that she and I have never moved in the same circles. But good for her.” And just why did you mention her on a date with me? The thought was so clear that I wondered if Ryan could hear it.
Ryan ran a soothing hand down Freya’s back. “She’s having an engagement party next month—invited me to come. I wasn’t going to go, but a bunch of our old friends will be there, and it would give me an excuse to come and see you again.”
Freya turned, her movements alluring, meant to be persuasive. “Or,” she said softly, tracing the line of his jaw, “you could just come and see me.”
Ryan smiled but drew back a bit from her lips. “Come on, Frey. You never were afraid of Jen, why start now?”
That made her stiffen again. “Don’t you dare say that I am afraid of anyone,” she said, her eyes and her aura flaring.
He held up his hands, laughing. “Okay, okay. I just don’t think you should let her bother you. I never did.” He put his arm around her shoulders, though she tried to pull away. “Freya, you are beautiful and kind and brilliant. Why does it matter what she thinks?”
Freya pursed her lips but didn’t answer.
With a practiced sigh, Ryan leaned back. “Well, I am going to go. I want to see the old crowd, and shake Jen’s fiancé’s hand. Gotta wish the poor guy good luck. He’s going to need it.”
There was an instant of silence, and then Freya looked at him sidelong. The tension broke again, and they both laughed.
“Damn right he is,” Freya said. She sighed. “Oh, fine. But I’m not staying long.”
“No problem,” Ryan said, well aware that this was the best he could expect. “I bet we won’t have any trouble pulling some of the guys away for a beer. James is going to be there—we could always count on him for that, remember?”
The evening ended in laughter and fond reminisces. Ryan paid for the meal, drove Freya back to her home, and kissed her on the doorstep. She watched, her heart soft, as he went back to his car whistling. Then she went inside, fell heavily onto the couch, and sighed happily, her hands cupped over her chest. Lubos and I left her so, enjoying the memories of the night.
I thanked Lubos, of course, and told him that I was intrigued by his wings-off approach. Many times during the night I would have attempted to intervene, but he was calm, certain that all would be well.
“As I said before, we must not let them depend on us,” he said. “Our ultimate goal is for them to be able to recognize and preserve happiness on their own.”
I understand this well, but a part of me is glad that my own assignments still do need me from time to time. They are precious to me, and I am happy and proud to help them in any way.
Freya, too, is precious to me. I know that it is not my place to worry about her, but I do, and I hope that she finds happiness, with or without my help.
[1] Basketball is one of the many sports that the humans play. It is an entertaining game, involving a single ball, hoops, and very tall people, and for many humans it holds an outlandish fascination.