Love by Design: A Heartswell Harbour Romance

by Mavis Williams

  Until the cancer took her Harold from her.

  She glanced again at the flowers.

  It had been a very, very long time since anyone had sent her flowers.

  “Well,” she said, putting down her teacup and blinking away her tears fiercely. “I must deliver these to their proper owners. Far be it from me to interrupt the serendipity of true love, just by being the wrong address.”

  She picked up the basket, taking a moment to breath in the gentle scent of tulips and baby’s breath.

  She read the card... Rosalee.

  Printed neatly in pen on the front of the tiny envelope stapled to the tissue paper wrapping, clearly and unmistakably... Rosalee.

  She put the flowers back down on the table.

  She looked again at the wedding photograph. Harold so tall and strong, with his arm around her waist like nothing would ever come between them.

  Heathcliffe huffed like an overstuffed sofa from the floor at her feet.

  She delicately removed the envelope from the bouquet, opening it slowly. The words were carefully printed, but she had a sense that the scribe was either left-handed or six years old. She read the scrawl several times, wondering if it was some kind of joke.

  “Seeing you the other day was like a ray of sunshine. Maybe we can have...”

  She squinted at the card. It looked like several words had been crossed out in a messy blur of ink. She read the final line out loud. “Maybe we can have lunch.” She was almost certain the scratched-out words said ‘drink’, or maybe ‘date’ but she couldn’t be sure.

  She lowered the card to the table. She looked around her tiny kitchen for answers. There were none. There was no signature, and no other indication who the message was from.

  Rosalee ripped off the tissue paper, searching for a clue.

  “How can I have lunch, if I don’t know who you are?” she asked the flowers.

  Heathcliffe jumped onto the table and batted a lazy paw at the ribbon.

  Rosalee re-read the message, frowning at the clumsy penmanship and the crossed-out words yet again.

  “It would appear, Heathy,” she said, a small smile spread across her face as she held the card to her chest. “That we have a secret admirer.”

  Chapter 25

  “The strangest thing is how little it bothered me.”

  Hudson dried the dishes while Robin washed. They’d had supper that Hudson had made, and Izzy was curled on the sofa watching her favorite cartoon.

  “Stranger than the fact that a successful lawyer from one of the best firms in the province got arrested for breaking into his own home looking for his man-panties?” she asked, straight-faced.

  “Boxers, Robin,” he said. “Manly boxers.”

  “Go on.” She’d seen him in his boxers, just this morning in the very-too-small apartment and she had to agree with the manly definition. She just hoped he never saw her in her granny panties and faded bra. Hudson seemed to have an open-door policy to getting dressed in the morning, although it might have more to do with Izzy bursting in on him every five minutes to ask if he was ready to play.

  “The guy. The giant with the fist like a cement block.” Hudson put away a dish and poured Robin another glass of wine. “It bothered me that he hit me, but I didn’t care that he was there, you know? That she had replaced me so quickly.”

  He shrugged. Everything with Hudson seemed to be a matter of a shrug or a smile or a slight shift to the left.

  “You didn’t love her,” Robin said simply.

  “That’s pretty awful, isn’t it?” He leaned against the counter, brushing against her elbow in the tiny kitchen. “We were together for two years. You would think I would have figured that out.”

  “I loved a man who didn’t love me,” she said quietly, looking over at Izzy snuggled under her pink bunny blanket, her thumb in her mouth. “And I didn’t figure it out until... well. Here we are.”

  Hudson looked at Izzy.

  “You’re so lucky.”

  She frowned at him. “I just told you a man broke my heart, Mr. Chucklehead. How does that make me lucky?”

  “Most people just get their heart bruised by a failed relationship.” He gestured at his eye which was fading to an interesting yellowish-green tint. “You got Izzy. I’d say it was your man who lost the end of that bargain, losing you and that beautiful little girl because he was an idiot.”

  She blinked at him, feeling her cheeks flush.

  She had always felt like the loser. Not that she regretted having Izzy, not for one moment, but because she had been so unlovable that he left the minute he knew she was pregnant. That the thought of a life with her was intolerable to him, to the point that he would abandon his child.

  Hudson smiled at her and raised his glass to touch hers. The chime of crystal made Izzy lift her head and look in their direction. She smiled and snuggled back down.

  “Here’s to broken hearts,” he said. “And being single forever.”

  “Oh groan,” she said, sipping her wine. “We’re too young to be so jaded. Especially you, dork. I have a kid, but you have the world in your back pocket. You’ll fall in love again in the next three weeks, just watch.”

  She liked this.

  Hudson’s company was so easy, and felt so natural, it was the reason she hadn’t insisted that he find better lodging after he sobered up the night she brought him home. He was just really good company, and she liked the way he was always touching her. She was certain he didn’t mean anything by it, it was just his way. His hand on her shoulder when he passed her, touching her arm when he wanted her attention, bumping into her on purpose when they were walking. Just like he walked out of the bathroom in a towel or got dressed with his door open. Hudson filled personal space with an easy-going warmth that Robin had never experienced.

  Izzy treated him like he was the best new toy ever.

  “Speaking of falling in love,” he said. “I have a plan for Auntie.”

  “Hudson, I think we failed as matchmakers. Probably best to just let it go. And besides, I think your father and Mrs.—”

  “No, no, no. Listen.” He ran his hand down her arm and she shivered. “We go on a double date.”

  “To the movies?” Robin rolled her eyes. “They aren’t twelve, Hud.”

  “You are like the Antichrist of romance,” he said. “We go on a double date, but we don’t call it a double date, and halfway through the date you and I get lost and leave them stranded together somehow and then BAM! They fall in love. It’s perfect.”

  “It’s foolproof all right,” she said. “Planned by a fool.”

  “The Home Show and Expo,” he said triumphantly, ignoring her. “Next weekend. You’ll love it, by the way.”

  Robin went to the Home Show every year. It was one of her favorite events in the community of Heartswell Harbour, showcasing everything from kitchen cupboards to linens to innovative lighting design. She usually went with Neil and came home brimming with design ideas and creative insights.

  “We’ll have to take Neil.” She chose to ignore the potential of an awkward and ill-planned liaison between the elder Proxly and the great aunt. Deal with that when it happened. “But we’ll have to take Izzy if we’re all going. Her daycare isn’t open on the weekends.”

  “Even better!” he crowed. “Izzy Iguana, you wanna go on a date?”

  He plopped down on the sofa beside Izzy who immediately cuddled up against him without removing her thumb. Robin smiled as Hudson put his arm around her and grinned over his shoulder.

  “You’re right,” he said, squeezing Izzy. “I think I’ve fallen in love again already.”

  Chapter 26

  “Well of course Neil isn’t going to tell me,” Rosalee said. “The flowers came from Two-if-by-Tulips, but I’m sure he wouldn’t know the mystery man was buying them for me. Secret admirers are secret, Robin, dear. They don’t go about shouting their intentions from the rooftops.”

  “But we could ask him who came into the shop
that day.” They were driving Izzy to daycare and then going to the giant fabric store in downtown Heartswell to purchase bolts of cloth for the window treatments at Proxly and Son. “I’m sure he’d tell you.”

  “My dear, you simply have not a romantic bone in your body, do you?” Auntie tut-tutted, reminding Robin of a sparrow trying to open a nut with its tiny beak. “I don’t want to know who it is.”

  “How can you not want to know?” Robin pulled the car into the daycare parking lot, turning to smile at Auntie, the Queen of Romance. “How will you go on a lunch date if you don’t know who it is you’re supposed to meet?”

  “I shall have to wait, agog, for further communication from my Secret Admirer. Obviously.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to just ask Neil who the guy is, and then call him?” Robin loved the look of pity on Auntie’s face. Robin had moved past romance a long time ago, but she was thrilled that Auntie was so excited about the mysterious flower deliverer. She hated to admit it, but she was jealous of the obvious excitement on the older woman’s face.

  “Surely a florist has the same confidentiality obligations as a lawyer,” Auntie said with a straight face. Robin fought the urge to giggle.

  “Florist-client privilege?” she asked.

  “Exactly,” Rosalee agreed vigorously. “Imagine the ruined liaisons if florists gave up their confidential information to whomever asked? It would be madness.”

  “Mayhem and riot,” Robin agreed. “All those erstwhile Romeo’s getting the shaft before they even had a chance to throw pebbles at the balcony.”

  Rosalee nodded seriously. “I shall have to be very sleuth-like in the days ahead.”

  They got out of the car and Robin reached in to unbuckle Izzy.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well obviously my Secret Admirer is watching me.” Rosalee swivelled her head around cautiously, squinting into the far corners of the playground as if expecting a trench-coat wearing spy to be watching her from the shadows.

  “Kinda creepy, Auntie,” Robin said. “Have fun today, Izzy Iguana. Love you muchly.” She kissed Izzy who scampered off to embrace the legs of the daycare supervisor, Miss Jillian, who was over-seeing the swarm of pre-schoolers playing in the fenced-in outdoor space.

  “If he is following me,” Auntie whispered, scooting back into the car and settling her purse on her knees. “I’ll have to be sneaky and attempt to best him at his own game.”

  “It must be Mr. Proxly.” Robin navigated the car back into the flow of traffic on the main road.

  “Robin!” Auntie huffed. “You have absolutely no sense of adventure. Of course it’s Mr. Proxly, but we mustn’t be too eager now, must we!”

  “I thought you said you didn’t want to know—”

  “Honestly child.” Auntie rolled her eyes. “Just because I enjoy a little adventure doesn’t make me an idiot. Who else could it possibly be?”

  Robin pondered the options and came up empty.

  “Who else have I encountered at entirely random meetings in the last few weeks, hmm?”

  Robin blushed. Not entirely random.

  “We met each other at the florist!” Auntie shouted, causing Robin to jump in her seat. “I didn’t make the connection until just this moment. We met at Two-if-by-Tulips. Don’t you see? He’s giving me clues, if only I am clever enough to unveil them.”

  “Neil’s flower shop is the only one in town—” Robin stopped herself. Must try to be more romantically minded.

  “And then there was that strange moment outside the coffee shop last week.”

  “What strange moment?” Hudson hadn’t mentioned orchestrating a coffee shop rendezvous for the couple. Could he be forging ahead without her?

  “Well, I almost ran right over Mr. Proxly. I suppose I should refer to him as Bernard, if we are to be lovers, shouldn’t I?”

  “Ew, Auntie.” Robin cringed. “Please just call him Mr. Proxly. Nothing else, ever.”

  “I had no idea you were such a prude, Robin.” Auntie slapped her lightly on the arm. “Don’t you worry about my reputation, dear. There will be no dalliances of an inappropriate nature, have no fear.”

  “Phew.” Robin sighed, not sure if she should laugh or cry.

  “Anyway, I almost ran right over Bernard as he was leaving the coffee shop with two coffees in his hands, and I was hustling down the sidewalk, as one must if one is to get a good seat at the cinema series matinee, and I bumped right into him.”

  “Cinema series matinee?” Robin asked, bemused.

  “Please try to keep up, dear,” Auntie said. They parked at the fabric store and got out of the car. “I attend the Wednesday afternoon cinema series every week, and my preferred seat is on the far left, seat J10, on the aisle. I am ever so disappointed if someone takes my preferred seat before I arrive, so I was hustling, as I say, to get there on time when boom! I ran smack dab into Mr.... Bernard, spilling his coffees onto the sidewalk.”

  Robin looked at Auntie with new eyes. “I had no idea you went to the cinema series,” she said.

  “You also have no idea I go to Stitch and Bitch every Thursday night with the ladies from church, but there it is.”

  “Stitch and—”

  “Bitch, dear.” Auntie held the door open for Robin, who had paused on the doorstep, unable to reconcile this new impression of Auntie with her belief that all her great aunt lived for was laundry and inserting herself into Robin’s life at every turn. “We get together and crochet. Well, I crotchet. Some of the girls quilt, or knit. And we complain about our husbands.”

  “But your husband—”

  “Yes, thank you for reminding me, dear. My darling Harold has been dead for many years now.” Auntie took a deep breath. “But you mustn’t forget that we were married for twenty-seven years. When you have been married for twenty-seven years, and you will be my dear, never mind rolling your eyes at me. When you have been in a relationship with a man for that long, you will have plenty to complain about, even years after his death.”

  Robin couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud, tucking her arm into Auntie Rosalee’s elbow and kissing her lightly on the cheek.

  “You are my favorite person, Auntie,” Robin said, still chuckling.

  “And I am quite fond of you also.” Auntie smiled and squeezed Robin’s hand.

  “So, you spilled poor Mr. Proxly’s coffees?”

  “Yes, yes.” Auntie nodded as they made their way through the aisles of fabric. Rosalee reached out and brushed her fingers lightly over each bolt of cloth as they walked. “He was most apologetic, and he seemed quite embarrassed, now that I think of it. He tried to explain that one of the coffees was for his secretary and when I offered to pay to replace them he became quite agitated and insisted that it was not a problem—do you think—do you think he was purchasing the extra coffee for me, and I ruined his surprise by running into him so abruptly?”

  “I don’t know Auntie.” Robin was amazed at the romantic leaps her Great Aunt was able to make with such agility. It must make life so much more interesting, if you were able to believe in romance. “That seems like a bit of a stretch.”

  “Well, I have to believe that the flowers were from him, at any rate,” she said. “Although I have to admit I find it strange that Bernard Proxly’s handwriting would be so sloppy.”

  She withdrew the card from her voluminous purse and ran her fingers over the scrawled message with the blob of ink where the writer decided to write lunch instead of drinks. “He seems so terribly precise in all things, it just seems odd that he would allow this error to get past his defences.”

  “Maybe he was rushed and didn’t want anyone to see him writing the card,” Robin suggested. “Or maybe he was beset by a roving gang of miscreants and his life depends on you accepting his lunch offer or he will have to face pistols at dawn.”

  Rosalee turned and blinked at Robin.

  “Just trying to get into the mood.” Robin shrugged. “You know, the romance thing. Isn’t i
t romantic to think his love for you will save him from a duel?”

  “How are things going with Hudson?” Auntie asked, pursing her lips.

  “What do you mean? What things?”

  “Just thinking that your approach to romance would explain why you haven’t kissed that young man yet.”

  “Auntie!” Robin came to an abrupt stop in the velour aisle. She had kissed Hudson and it had been very nice. But she wasn’t about to indulge in any fantastical romantic delusions. She had Izzy. She had work. No more kissing. “There is nothing between Hudson and I, and there will never be anything between Hudson and I.”

  “I see,” Auntie said primly, putting her card carefully back into her purse.

  “What? ‘I see’? What does that mean?” Robin moved on toward upholstery fabric, hoping the conversation would end before she started agreeing with her Great Aunt.

  “There is romance on every corner, Robin dear,” Auntie said. “You just have to be willing to embrace it.”

  “The only thing I am willing to embrace is my paycheck and my daughter,” Robin said. “I don’t need anything else.”

  “Whatever you say, dear.” Auntie smiled smugly like she knew the rules to the game and Robin was playing with the wrong set of dice.

  Chapter 27

  “She’s having absolute fits,” Robin said to Hudson that evening after she tucked Izzy into bed and finally collapsed on the sofa. “When I dropped her at her house this afternoon there was another bouquet of flowers on her porch.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Hudson stretched out on his back on the floor, with his feet on the sofa. “Auntie is a hot little number.”

  “Don’t ever say that again,” Robin said, smiling. “She is Auntie. Asexual Auntie. I just wanted her to find something to distract her from my life, I have no desire to consider her as a hot anything.”

  “You think it’s Dad?” He put his hands behind his head and looked at her with his hair flopped over one eye.

  “You need a hair cut,” she said. “You look like a surfer.”