The Love Lost and Found Blogfest is hosted by Arlee Bird of Tossing it Out and Guilie Castilol-Oriard of A Quiet Laughter, and co-hosted by Elizabeth Seckman, Yolanda Renee, Denise Covey. and Alex J. Cavanaugh. Participants share a poem, story, essay, or song about love lost or found.
This scene takes place on 5 May 1942, as young soulmates Levon Kevorkian and Cinnimin Filliard meet for the first time. Cinni has just seen her on-again, off-again, no-longer-so-secret interfaith boyfriend Barry kissing his boring new girlfriend, and she’s shut him out of her heart for good.
From across the room, Levon’s eyes latched onto Cinnimin on the davenport, and his heart fluttered. This pretty American girl obviously wasn’t Armenian, but he had a strange, uncanny feeling she was someone special. Perhaps his parents and grandfather had been driven out of Turkey, and he and his siblings had come to America, just so he could meet this girl.
“Tiffany, can you introduce me to the one with curly hair?”
“What? I doubt she wants to meet a brand-new immigrant. And why Cinnimin? How about my cousin or their other friend?”
“I can’t explain, but I sense something really special about her, and she’s got a more natural beauty than the other girls.”
Tiffany looked over at the three girls commiserating on the davenport. Though both Elaine and Violet were spoken for, Cinnimin was still single, as far as she knew, and didn’t seem to have a crush on anyone special at the moment. It couldn’t hurt to at least introduce her to Levon.
“Cinnimin, this is Levon Kevorkian, one of my guests. He asked to meet you.”
Cinnimin glanced at the boy with the foreign name and noticed he had a very sincere face. “Do you speak English?”
Levon’s tongue was like lead. He tried to nod, but found his head immobilized too.
“Yes, boy? You wanna talk to me? I don’t read minds.”
He managed to open his mouth, but nothing came out, too paralyzed by intimidation by this pretty American girl.
“Well, can you speak English or not?”
Levon finally found his tongue, praying his basic English wouldn’t fail him and he wouldn’t accidentally blabber in Armenian or Bulgarian. “You are extremely beautiful. I can tell you have an extremely beautiful mind too.”
Violet and Elaine burst into giggles.
“Oh, so you do speak English.” Cinnimin glared at Violet and Elaine. “Please excuse my friends. They’re not as mature as I am. Violet in particular has very poor taste in boys.” She smiled at him. “You’re cute. Can I call you Levy?”
“My family calls me Levoush.”
“Oh, that doesn’t sound very American. If you’re here to stay, you need a proper American nickname. What’s your middle name?”
Cinnimin grimaced. “That sounds even more foreign. Please, can I just call you Levy?”
“You don’t like my name? I have very nice, traditional Armenian name, and I didn’t think it sounded too foreign. You have strange name I never heard.”
“My mother named me after her favorite spice, but she couldn’t spell it properly. I’m so used to writing my name that way, the so-called correct spelling just looks wrong to me.”
“Tarchin is the Armenian form of her name,” Tiffany provided from the background.
Levon ventured a shy smile at Cinnimin. “When we add tarchin to our food, we say it’s like adding love to the food.”
“You’re pretty eloquent,” Cinnimin said, feeling his dark eyes burning a hole in her soul. “But everyone needs a nickname. Don’t you think Levy is a cute nickname?”
Levon finally nodded, hoping “eloquent” was a positive word. Now that the ice was broken, he figured it couldn’t hurt to ask a slightly personal question.
“You have boyfriend?”
Cinnimin jumped up, her heart racing. “I’m sorry, I must leave.”