I rolled my eyes and took the wallet from him. "I'll clean it out tonight." Since I had no sweet nothings to murmur and nobody to hear them, I might as well.
He grinned. "A nice wild Thursday night."
"Aren't you the one who'll spend it talking to his mommy on the phone?"
"Hey, my mom's a wild child." He kissed me briefly. "But she does get annoyed if I'm not home when she calls. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Sure."
He smiled, and I could see his relief that I wasn't hounding him to stay with me, to become my boyfriend, that I wasn't being a girl about it. I'd seen that look before, and I found myself wondering how many times and whether I'd ever stop seeing it. Why wasn't I ever what a guy wanted?
While I was thinking about that, he pulled open my front door and left.
I locked it behind him then went wearily to the kitchen in search of something to eat. Luckily Omar and I had bought several frozen meals, and I peeled the wrapping off one and got it cooking in the microwave.
Then I looked at my wallet. I'd contemplated emptying out some of its junk while I'd been frantically preparing to come to Kuwait but I hadn't been able to spare the time then or since. Maybe I should spare the four minutes until my dinner was ready.
I pulled everything out of one of the wallet's pockets, and began sorting through it. A sandwich shop punch card that only needed three more punches, for a store that had gone out of business last year. A coupon for twenty percent off shoes, expired three months ago. A business card, with a name I didn't recognize and a job title of "Director of First Impressions". Underneath the title I'd scribbled "receptionist".
At the sight of the business card, a fierce and overwhelming frustration that bordered on fury swept me. This was pointless. I didn't want to be bothered wasting my time looking at all this junk right now.
I began stuffing it back in, but stopped myself though I didn't want to. Even more pointless than dealing with it now was putting it away to deal with later, so I made myself empty out every last pocket of the wallet and put everything into one of three piles: 'goes back in', 'goes in a drawer', or 'goes in the garbage'.
Halfway through the process I found another business card, but this time I certainly recognized the name.
I held it, studying it, then jumped when the microwave's beep startled me.
Shaking my head at my own foolishness, I dropped the card squarely onto the 'garbage' pile. I'd never email him. Why would I? And what would I say? "Dear Kegan, I had sex tonight with a guy who looks like you. Are you as bad in bed as he is?"
I let my food cool a bit and kept working through the former contents of my wallet. Now that I was actually doing it I didn't find it so annoying and my frustration faded away, and in less than five minutes I'd neatly organized the wallet with only what I needed to carry around and had tucked the 'drawer' pile into a small plastic bag for safekeeping and then into the bedroom drawer where I'd also put my tarot cards and Greg's ring.
I'd gathered up the garbage pile too, but I hesitated as I held it over the garbage can in my bedroom. Most of it was emphatically meant to be there, but Kegan's card... it had been so sweet of him...
I made myself let go and the card tumbled into the can with the junk. I wouldn't be emailing Kegan. It would simply be too weird.
Swiping my hands across each other as if I'd been touching something dusty, I went to the kitchen and collected my meager dinner. I ate it, then sat watching television and trying not to notice that my poor body had been left completely unsatisfied by both the dinner and what had happened before it.
If I were going to keep sleeping with Leon, I'd have to find out where in Kuwait I could buy a vibrator.
Chapter Seventeen
"You can do that? Have it delivered?"
Omar laughed. "It's one of the best things about Kuwait, that web site."
Katherine and I stood behind him watching as he worked his way through the site on my laptop, then eagerly assisted him in choosing ice cream flavors. Once we were done, he submitted the order and said, "There. It should be here in half an hour or so."
The three of us had spent the better part of that Friday afternoon at my apartment going through lesson plans and then I'd made them dinner with the groceries Omar had helped me buy earlier in the week. I'd enjoyed hosting them, and both working with them and chatting when we took breaks had been a lot of fun. They listened to my suggestions about how to teach our classes, and were honest but kind when what I suggested wouldn't work. I came up with a few ideas that they thought would work, though, and I felt like I might not be holding them back as much as I'd feared.
The food I'd made had turned out well, but the ice cream I'd bought for dessert had been so bland and boring that its cardboard tub would probably have tasted better. I'd suggested we go out to Pinkberry for a replacement but Omar had surprised me by bringing up the web site where we could order food from just about any restaurant in Kuwait.
"Half an hour." Katherine sank back onto my couch. "Okay, I think I can wait that long." She yawned. "We're good for work now, right? We can just hang out?"
I nodded and sat next to her. "I think so. Thanks so much, guys. I know it must be a pain dealing with a brand-new teacher, if you can even call me a teacher."
She blinked and Omar said, "You're in the classroom teaching the kids, same as we are. What else would we call you?"
A faker? Every time I saw Janet I flinched inside, wondering if this would be the time she'd tell me I was doing a terrible job. Khalid was still pushing every last one of my buttons and though I was trying to like him as much as I liked the others it was a struggle. I couldn't like him, and I couldn't teach him, and I hated it.
Katherine said, "You're doing a great job, Larissa. Don't worry." She sighed. "I'm not worried about work, just about Gunther." On our breaks that day she had told us all about the German guy she'd met at a friend's gym and how he expected every second of her attention and got angry whenever she wasn't available to him. It sounded exhausting but a tiny part of me wondered what it would be like to have someone that interested in me. Leon seemed to love how I didn't cling to him, and he certainly didn't cling to me. We hadn't spoken since he'd left after we had sex.
Katherine turned to Omar. "If we'd gone to your place, you could have helped me figure out what to do."
He blushed, and I looked back and forth between them, confused.
"Omar reads tarot cards," she said. "He's amazing at it. But of course he doesn't have them here."
"I have a deck," I said before I thought it through.
Omar relaxed, and I wondered if some people gave him a hard time for them. I'd had occasional comments that they were evil, but after my counselor had told me they were just accessing parts of my own psyche I hadn't worried about people with that attitude.
"You can read for me?" Katherine grinned at me. "That's great. I won't have to bother Omar all the time."
"It's not a bother," he said, "but maybe you'd rather talk to Larissa about your problem with Gunther."
She laughed. "I'm not shy, doesn't bother me any."
She certainly wasn't. From our talks today I knew more about Gunther's bedroom preferences than I did about Leon's, and I'd slept with Leon. Poor Omar had blushed so hard at times I'd thought his cheeks might explode.
"I'm not good at readings," I said, then qualified it with, "I used to be okay but lately I can't get anything out of my cards."
"Can Omar try them?"
He glanced at me then said to her, "Not everyone is comfortable with someone else using their cards."
I had made a point of not letting anyone who didn't take them seriously touch them, but Omar would be fine. "I'm okay with it if you are."
He smiled. "Let's see them."
I retrieved the cards from my bedroom drawer and handed them to Omar. He unwrapped them carefully and said, "Great imagery," as he glanced through the deck. "They're in great shape too." He looked up at me. "How long have yo
u had them?"
I thought back. "Eight years for this deck, I think."
"You've treated them well."
Until recently they'd returned the favor.
"I really do love the pictures," he said as he fanned out several cards. "They're so vivacious."
I smiled at him. "Word of the day?"
He grinned. "Yeah, but it fits. They almost seem alive. My mom would love them. She's big on using the pictures instead of what the books say are the right meanings." His grin faded. "I like the books because the words make it so much clearer to me, though. I think in words more than pictures." He left a pause, during which I got a vivid mental picture of an older female version of Omar telling him he should be using the pictures instead, then cleared his throat and said, "But these would be great if you were into reading by the pictures."
"I was, but then I got a book."
"So you can do it both ways," Katherine put in.
I smiled and didn't tell her I couldn't do either now. The meanings I'd learned, the words I'd memorized, seemed to stand between me and the cards instead of helping me interpret them, and I didn't know how to forget and get back to where I'd been before.
"Is your book here? I wonder if it's one I have."
I shook my head. "Left it in Toronto." It hadn't seemed worth bringing it when the cards weren't working. Bad enough I'd brought them. Why carry even more dead weight?
Omar nodded and began to shuffle my cards, then stopped and held the deck out to me. "Are you sure you don't want to use them yourself?"
I nodded. No point. "I'd rather watch you."
"Okay. Katherine, you know the drill. Think of a question then cut the deck."
He shuffled while she sat with her eyes closed clearly thinking hard though I had no doubt what she'd ask the cards. She wasn't particularly pretty, but I thought that a hundred years ago she'd have been called a handsome woman with her strong jaw and solid body. My dad would have liked her, except for her insistence on including so much pink in her wardrobe. He'd never approved of the color and its supreme girliness.
Katherine opened her eyes and smiled at Omar. "Ready."
He smiled back and held out the deck toward her so she could lift a chunk of cards from the top and tuck them to the back, then he began laying them out in a cross pattern I knew.
He read the cards well, knowing every meaning and how they interacted with each other without hesitation. Though she didn't tell us what she'd asked, the reading was clearly about her boyfriend, and while Omar's interpretation of the cards made it clear that he didn't like how Gunther treated her he was kind and gentle with her as he talked about how 'someone' in her life didn't approve of her the way she was and how that wasn't acceptable.
I wasn't sure he was right. Gunther was smart, rich, and good in bed, a combination I knew wasn't easy to find. "A bird in the hand beats a royal flush," as my dad had so oddly put it. Why should she let a guy like that go just because he wanted to be with her all the time? Plus, he did want to be with her, so where was Omar's 'doesn't approve of her' thing coming from?
Katherine didn't ask. She seemed unsurprised by Omar's words, and when he finished she sighed and said, "I know, I should break up with him. And I will." There was no certainty in her voice, though. I didn't blame her. I didn't want to be single either.
After a moment, she said, "Do Larissa's now," in a tone that told me she didn't want to discuss Gunther any more.
"No, do one for yourself, Omar." I wasn't sure I wanted one at all. If he couldn't get a clear reading for me either, what would that mean? Could I be that messed up? So far gone that all the vivacious imagery in the world couldn't understand me? "I like watching you."
"He's fun to watch, isn't he?"
Omar blushed and said, "Well, okay. I don't have a particular question to ask for myself but I can do something general about my life direction."
He did, and the cards were clear that he should stay the course and keep being calm and steady.
He sighed. "I always get that. I want to be a wild man."
Katherine and I both burst out laughing. He looked hurt, so I made myself stop and said, "Sorry. But you don't seem like the wild man type. You're the good smart helpful man type."
He blushed again, and blushed more when Katherine said, "You're husband material."
I thought she was right, but I also thought it must be a dull life for Omar, waiting for women to stop falling for the bad boys and recognize his potential. Although Leon had said he had a girlfriend, so he must be doing all right.
He shuffled the cards a few times, not looking up from them, then said as if to them, "Shall we do one for Larissa now? What do you guys think?"
Katherine put on a squeaky voice and said, "We want to. Let's do it."
"My cards don't sound like that," I said, smiling and trying to decide whether I wanted a reading.
"Then how do they sound?"
Katherine's question was interrupted by a call from Mohammed the harris and then a knock at my door, and soon we were too busy eating newly delivered ice cream to talk.
Once we'd gotten past our first burst of stuffing our faces, though, Katherine said, "Seriously, it's Larissa's turn now."
I'd never had anyone but my sister read for me, and even that had been years ago, so I did wonder how it would go. "If you don't mind, Omar, I'd like it."
"I don't mind at all." He wiped his hands carefully on his jeans then took up the deck.
"You can finish your ice cream first."
He smiled. "I want to let my mouth defrost a bit anyhow. I can hardly taste at the moment."
I took another bite of my dessert and realized I was having the same issue. I set my bowl down and said, "Good call. Okay, let's do this."
"Do you have a question in mind?"
My mind immediately went blank and I said, "Nope, I think my head's frozen too."
He laughed. "A general reading then?"
"Sure."
He shuffled my cards then let me cut the deck, and once he'd laid the cards in a cross on their black velvet cloth he began describing what he saw.
"If you look at them as a whole there's a lot about communication. Things you're not saying, especially. It might be good to talk to people more than you are."
"I have emails waiting from my two good friends back home," I said, and he smiled and said, "Answer them."
"Will do," I said, making myself smile back. My cards seemed to be working for him, so that meant that their previous failure was my fault. Of course. "What else?"
He tapped three cards in succession. "My mother taught me that these three together mean a good strong relationship is on its way." Another card tap. "This one, though, means that whatever's coming will take a lot of exertion to get to, but those first ones mean it'll be worth the undertaking."
I couldn't imagine that Leon was that relationship but I also didn't see any other prospects. "I hope you're right."
"Omar's always right." Katherine smiled at him. "Even with all his big words. If he says you'll find a relationship, you will."
Omar laughed, and I realized his cheeks had reddened. "Let's hope so."
I'd wondered if he liked me and I was starting to think I'd been right. I felt sure he'd be a great and attentive boyfriend, but I had about as much sexual chemistry with Katherine as with him. "Anything else?"
He narrowed his eyes and studied all the cards again. "Basically, it feels to me like you're on the edge of something. It won't be easy, and it'll involve making yourself communicate and open up in ways you might find uncomfortable, but if you don't quit you'll get where you want and need to be."
His words made my throat tighten. If I didn't quit. But I always quit.
*****
Late that night, I lay in bed thinking too hard to fall asleep. Frustrated, I rolled over for probably the fiftieth time and sighed. My head just wouldn't turn off.
Omar's reading had made a lot of sense, and I knew that my need to communicate wen
t further than he'd realized. I'd answered Candice and Lydia's emails before bed, but I still hadn't told them anything about why I'd run to Kuwait. I wasn't telling Janet or my fellow teachers about my issues with Khalid, nobody knew about whatever it was I had with Leon, only Kegan and his fiancée and his employee had heard what had happened with Greg... I was keeping all the little pieces of my life separate and segregated. It didn't feel good.
But neither did the idea of spilling everything in my head and heart. If people knew how screwed up I was, they'd never talk to me again.
As if I were having an out-of-body experience, my mind wandered to the garbage can in my room and peered down at the cards I'd thrown in there yesterday.
Kegan knew.
Not everything about me, of course, but I'd been more honest with him than I had with anyone else in a long time and he hadn't judged me for it. He'd even offered to let me tell him more. Maybe it was with him that I was supposed to be communicating.
I dragged my mind out of the garbage can and tried to push away the thought. Kegan was married now, wasn't he? Or soon, anyhow.
I spent a few moments trying to remember when he'd said his wedding would be, then crawled out of bed and opened his restaurant's web site on my laptop to see if by any chance it was listed there. I didn't think it would be, but it was, because he'd closed both of his restaurants tomorrow for the big day.
I shut the computer and fell back into bed, feeling a sick heavy sadness. Kegan, the biggest workaholic I'd ever known, had shut down his work life for the day he got married. Romantic, and the final proof that he really had changed.
I sighed and rolled over. Good for him, but it meant he'd be a newlywed in just a few hours. He wouldn't have the time or inclination to talk to me.
I didn't have anything to say anyhow. I'd left all the crappy stuff back in Toronto. My issue here with Khalid would be resolved eventually, once I figured out how to be a better teacher, and there really wasn't any significant problem with Leon other than his disappointing performance in this very bed. And even that would probably get better once we got to know each other better. He was a little distant, true, but I didn't need a clingy boyfriend, especially not after seeing how frustrated Katherine got with hers.
Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13) Page 41