by Sue Gibson
Chapter Eight
During dinner a mist drifted in from the lake, settling into the lilac hedges, deepening their scent from a delicate floral to an exotic perfume. Edward drew in a breath and settled into his chair’s sumptuous padding. From the Stardust Room, smooth, slow piano notes slipped through the French doors, a muted soundtrack backing the rhythmic roll of the waves against the shore.
“Dessert?” Jason asked. Across the table, Christy smiled and shook her head. Big loose curls bounced against her bare shoulders. Edward swallowed hard. “No dessert for me either. But coffee would be great.” Christy agreed. “Make it two, please.”
Jason reached to the center of the table and lit a cluster of tiny candles. Instantly, the casual mood of the el fresco dining room became mysterious, sophisticated. Romantic.
On cue, his throat thickened. He was hopeless with this stuff. Resting his sweating palms on his thighs, his gaze swept the terrace looking for something solid and ordinary to talk about. But pillared candles flickered from every ledge and corner. Even the unoccupied tables twinkled in the darkness.
Settling on his own table, he followed the wisps of smoke spiraling upwards into a dark and limitless sky. He crossed his arms over his chest and dropped
his gaze to the more mundane. His chest rose and fell too quickly.
In Ottawa, the nightscape below his condo’s balcony was a network of city streets and postage- stamp parks illuminated with orderly rows of green- hued artificial light. He rarely bothered to look through the haze of light pollution. Out here, under the thin light of the stars and moon, his inconsequential position in the universe became uncomfortably apparent.
The enormous stillness of the place rushed to surround them. Even Christy appeared to have run out of things to say.
Taking her silence as a sign, he scraped his chair back a few inches, drawing the attention of the few remaining guests, and looked to Christy for affirmation. It was time to go. He’d cancel the coffee on his way out.
Then Christy sighed. With her elbows resting on the table and her fingers looped loosely together beneath her chin, she smiled. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it…Ted?”
“Yes, yes it certainly is.” She’d called him Ted, and Ted wouldn’t turn tail and run this early in the evening, especially when a gorgeous woman, apparently entranced by the eerie night, sat across the table. He hitched his chair back to the table’s edge.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned to survey the terrace. “It looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves now.”
“Yes, it is getting late,” he agreed, checking his watch. Stay or go? He’d yet to master inference, the stuff of the illogical.
“I didn’t mean I wanted to go.” Clearly, she read
people perfectly. “I meant,” as she glanced over the terra cotta half wall toward the lake, “now we can better appreciate the view and the…serenity.”
Her pretty pink lips formed around the words’ syllables, their meaning lost. Luscious and soft they curved into a pretty smile as she waited for his response.
Dragging his thoughts from her lips to their lakeside view, he glanced across the lake to the blackened silhouette of the far shore. “Yes, that’s some view.”
Her smile was tolerant at best. Where did he go from here? Tonight his credentials and computer skills didn’t count for squat. Around this place, you were expected to let loose of all that, which left a guy like him floundering on the shore.
Again, he looked at her face. Her eyes glowed with her appreciation of the moment. This was her gift, one she shared wholeheartedly everyday with the hotel’s guests.
Thing was, he didn’t want to be just another one of her guests. He wanted to be…her man? Even as his shoulders shifted back, his chest tightened, vise-like, until he could barely breathe. He was falling off a cliff and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
A colleague, John, once had described his own remarkable epiphany as a life-pivot. John had shucked his suit and ties for scuba gear and now ran a successful salvage company off British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast. At the time, Edward had considered him reckless. Now, he wondered if perhaps a woman had been involved.
Foolhardy or not he was choosing to believe a relationship with Christy was possible, risky and
unlikely, but possible. He straightened in the chair and swallowed hard.
He’d put himself out there, bowl if necessary.
****
Jason settled their coffee cups before moving off to clear tables on the far side of the terrace. Christy dipped her spoon into the steaming cup and reexamined her plan.
After a rocky start to the evening, Edward had actually been a bit of fun. And he hadn’t shot down her inspired “Ted” theory. Now however, she sensed he’d surpassed his daily quota of fun and was desperate to bolt from the restaurant and plot a graph or something.
“I hear the sun is going to shine again tomorrow. You picked a great week for your holidays.” His vacation may have been foisted on him, but she was determined he’d go home relaxed. “Any thoughts on what you’d like to do tomorrow?”
She caught a flicker in his eyes before he dropped his gaze to table. “Well, I was thinking of another round of golf…”
Slipping into her Director role, she interrupted, “Super. If you want a partner, just check the Pro Shop’s bulletin board. I posted a list of singles looking for partners.”
“I was considering playing golf. Your cow story changed my mind. Instead, I think I’ll check out the morning crossing.”
She’d already made inroads into his psyche? No way. “Good for you! I’d come along, but I’ve a Tai Chi class to prepare for.” As much as she enjoyed the cows, there was no way she was getting up extra early two mornings in a row. “When it’s sunny, my group usually meets on the east patio.”
His chin lifted. “You’ve mentioned Tai Chi several times. I bet that type of thing is a big hit at the Nirvana.”
“That type of thing?” She knew the answer, but was curious to hear his particular spin. Foreign in origin, at first go, Eastern philosophies were often difficult for North Americans to trust.
“There are loads of baby-boomers staying here, closing in on retirement, lots of time and money. Tai Chi is a relaxing indulgence.” He smiled, apparently pleased with his assessment.
She faked a smile. Remarks like his drove her nuts, but they offered a chance to educate the uninitiated. “Tai Chi is much more than an indulgence. It’s physical poetry, a beautiful blend of meditation and exercise.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I suppose there is an exercise component.”
“Edward, er…Ted,” she began, and reached across the table for his hand, and chased his gaze until their eyes connected.
No defensive glower there now. Instead, she found a tender shyness pulling her in, inviting her to linger. Her hand fell still, the words she was about to say, forgotten. She licked her lips and swallowed. He made no move to pull his hand free. She shook her head. It’s Edward.
Releasing his hand, she cleared her throat. “Teds are open-minded and adventuresome.” His eyes narrowed. “A “Ted” would definitely enjoy the cow crossing.” He tipped his head to the side. Encouraged, she ventured further. “And because he’s curious and outgoing, he’d hurry back for my Tai Chi Class.”
His brows rose.
Had she pushed too hard, jeopardized Plan B? “Guys like me, we’re spontaneous.” Her eyes
flashed to this face. His voice sounded strange, louder too.
He smiled the first broad, eye-crinkling one she’d seen cross his face. She lifted her chin and returned the smile. Clearly, Edward had left the building.
He spread his arms, encompassing the entire lake. “Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”
Chapter Nine
Slivers of daylight pierced the cracks between the thick plantation blinds she’d twisted closed before climbing into bed. It couldn’t possibly be morning already.
Morning meant getting up. Morning meant walking and talking and Tai Chi.
Realization dawned with the slow, relentless rise of the sun. In an hour she’d find out if Edward could follow through with his grand acceptance of her proposed experiment.
She flipped to face the ugly black box on her bedside table—and on brilliant inspiration her hand shot out to silence the impending alarm. Yes! She’d beaten the beast.
She’d tried other clocks. Nicer, kinder clocks, the kind that woke one to lilting flutes or birds chirping, but they just didn’t cut it. Unfortunately most days it took a piercing alarm to rouse her from sleep. But there was the odd lucky day, like today, that she beat the clock.
Few knew that the personable and perky Christy Graham was not a morning person. She’d always been the rumpled and grumpy one, and thankfully, a bone-silent breakfast companion.
Still resenting the daylight’s intrusion, she flipped to her back and stared at the ceiling. Even with its awkward moments, last night’s experiment felt like a success. Under the pale moonlight, while walking the
lilac-hedged path toward their respective cars, he’d corrected her when she’d called him Edward. Clearly, he felt there was merit in her plan.
Beneath the covers her hand slipped up her forearm to touch the spot where his hand had cupped her elbow as they’d moved through the darkness. Once off the Trillium Terrace’s candlelit balcony, the inky night belonged to nature, not man, and she’d welcomed his touch.
A smile formed with the memory. In fact, all through the evening she’d been impressed with his mannerly way, standing when she stood, helping her with her sweater. Ted needed no lessons in chivalry.
Untangling her legs from the sheet, she pushed herself upright and stretched. Drawn from her bed by the sun’s warmth, she padded across the floor to the window. Tentatively, she twisted the latch and stepped back as the thin morning light flooded her studio apartment.
Leaning closer to the glass, she looked at fluffy clouds scuttling across the open sky and wondered if Edward was awake too.
She pressed closer and looked to where the pavement changed to dusty, grey gravel. A string of hydro poles criss-crossed the road, leading eventually to the McKays’ farmhouse.
Edward appeared to have embraced the idea of trying on a new name, but experience warned her not to be too smug. He’d been almost too easy to convince.
Had she been too quick to label him a rigid workaholic? She shook her head. No, the man had carried a briefcase to the pool. It had to be something else. She sighed and headed for the shower.
Thirty minutes later, dressed and briefcase in hand, she clattered down the wooden stairs that descended from her balcony to the driveway. Drenched in the perfume of the blooming Phlox, an offshore breeze bathed her face. Pausing, car keys in hand, she drew in the delicious concoction. If there was a better place than Buttermilk Falls to live, then she hadn’t been there yet.
She slipped into the Corolla and turned the key. The engine caught the first time, cutting the sleepy silence of Lilac Street. Popping the gearshift into reverse, she glanced in the rearview mirror and caught her reflection. Her fingers loosened their grip on the gear shift. Her gaze flicked to the tiny red numbers on her dashboard clock. It was 6:45 a.m. and she was smiling.
****
Plucking the registration sheet from her office printer, she dashed from her office through the silent corridors toward the east entrance of the hotel. The hotel manager was usually at his desk by now, but the door to his office was uncharacteristically closed. And she knew Delaney, an independent artist and the Nirvana’s décor consultant, was in Calgary visiting her parents. Trey, always lonely without his wife, would still be across the lake at Lily and Ethan’s lakeside home.
Pausing at the door to catch her breath before stepping out onto the flat-stoned patio, she glanced at the list of registrants. Scanning for late night add- ons took only seconds. Her hand dropped away from the door handle as she neared the bottom of the paper. Neither Edward nor Ted had added his name to the list.
Looking up, she counted top-floor windows until
she reached the center suite. Was he in there, pecking away at his computer?
“Christy!” She looked through the glass door to the sun-dappled patio. Six couples, dressed almost identically in track suits or T-shirts and yoga pants smiled nervously in her direction. Yesterday’s arrivals, Yvonne and Mike, waved a cheery greeting.
She stepped outside into the warm, scented air. “I’m so glad to see all of you this morning! In front of her stood the “Melissa’s” and “Ted’s” of the world: open and fun-loving. At least the women slotted perfectly into the “Melissa” profile. Often times, the men were present by association, although they didn’t look completely unhappy.
Was she taking the long way around a simple problem? Instead of improving Edward’s social skills, perhaps she should be setting him up with a Melissa. Let her do the heavy lifting.
She surveyed the couples again. A petite vivacious woman giggled and plucked at her partner’s sleeve, while he smiled and patted her hand. Another beaming woman, impressively tall and elegant, held herself with supreme confidence. Her mate stood at her side, less put together but with a contented look in his eye, reminiscent of Jim McKay’s cows.
She shook her head. No. Edward deserved more, everybody did—an equal partnership, plus heart- stopping attraction.
She straightened her shoulders. Okay, the difference between her plan and their mothers’ will be execution. While his mother’s style entailed yanking women out of malls and bank lines, she’d search out Edward’s mate with thoughtfulness and finesse. Add in his improved social skills and his
mother would have the grandchildren she longed for in no time.
She strode to the middle of the flat-stone patio and planted her feet on a large stone.
“Okay, gather round,” she called out.” The crowd shuffled closer, their faces lifting in anticipation. “Raise your hand if this is your first time trying Tai Chi.”
Wow. Every hand rose. No need to adjust her program to suit a range of skills. “Perfect. Please close your eyes and shake out your arms and legs a bit and then allow yourself to enjoy the sunshine warming your bodies. I’ll share with you a bit of background information about Tai Chi.” Obediently, they followed her suggestion and she watched shoulders relax and fingers unfurl.
“It’s an Eastern philosophy,” she began, “And please understand that the study of Tai Chi can be lifelong. What you will take away from today is only an introduction. But most of all, Tai Chi is about adding a deeper layer of relaxation to your stay. I want everyone to forget about your everyday life, your jobs. For the next thirty minutes, let’s go somewhere else.”
“Please open your eyes and follow me as we complete a set of simple stretches.” Next she had them scatter around the patio, an arm’s length apart. She started them off with a basic pose and proceeded to move quietly through the group, adjusting and suggesting.
Walking up behind a tall man, she placed her hand on a nicely developed arm and gently guided it into position. With her touch his arm tightened. Her gaze slid sidewise to his partner. The spot beside him was empty. Her gaze traveled up to his face.
Edward! Her hand dropped from his arm. “Edward?”
“Good morning, Christy,” he said. He leaned incrementally closer. “And it’s Ted.”
She scrambled for composure. After all, a Tai Chi teacher shouldn’t be hyperventilating over a man’s body during class.
“I’ve messed up this pose already. Is my left hand supposed to be on my right knee?” He turned his face to her and smiled last night’s big smile all over again. “Bet you didn’t think you’d see me this morning!”
“I am surprised.” She struggled to keep her excitement from her voice. “Good for you, this is a great first step in your journey.” A leap. A huge leap.
“My journey?” A spark lit his eyes. “And just where is this journey going to take
me, Christy?”
His dark eyebrows lifted as he waited for her response.
This is crazy. It had been years since any man had come even close to upsetting her equilibrium.
“You know. Ahh, the stuff we talked about last night.” She tried to remember the words and copy the professional tone she’d used when first pitching the scheme.
“Umm,” she stuttered out, “the point of this name change is to lead you to a more relaxed and enjoyable lifestyle.” There, that sounded good. “Less stress leads to a more satisfying life.”
“Okay. So if this is step one, then what’s step two?” Vulnerability darkened the green of his eyes and softened the lines of his face. “Am I ready?” His intense honesty made a mess of her pat, reasonable response. His logical question felt weighty and important, too big to answer with a glib reply.
She pulled in a breath. “Ahh, step two, let’s see. You need to expand your social group. Yes. That’s it, Ted, you need to move beyond attending activities with me and initiate something on your own. Again, Ted—read the brochure.”
If she did her job right, Edward would return home having met a compatible partner and a bunch of new friends.
But was he ready to fly on his own? She studied his face, this time in control of her emotions. A strong jaw line, softened by dense day old stubble, defined his masculine appeal. Promoting Edward, or Ted, was going to be much easier than she’d anticipated.
Clearly he was making an effort. Her eyes dropped to his shoes. They looked new and a lot like the ones sold in the tuck shop. Their canvas was damp, as if he’d been walking through the dewy grass. Across the instep there was a smear of something she hoped was mud. He’d been to the cow crossing!