Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5)

by Heather Wardell

  "I don't even know how to tell you this. He was messing around with some girl there."

  She stared at me. "I cannot have heard that right."

  I sighed. "You heard it. It was apparently just once. Of course, I don't know that."

  "Define 'messing'."

  "He didn't want to give me much detail, but definitely kissing, and for a while from the sound of it."

  Her eyes widened even further. "He didn't... didn't... I can't even say it, but he didn't, did he?"

  "He says not. They were all talking about parents and stuff, and his parents' accident came up, and..." I turned my hands palms up helplessly, and told her about the rest of our instant messaging conversation.

  When I finished, she shook her head in amazement. "I'm stunned."

  "You and me both." A fresh surge of anger filled me. "I just feel so stupid."

  "Why stupid?" Her tone was strange, almost cautious, but I was too upset to worry about it.

  "I was agonizing over whether or not to tell him about Kegan and he wasn't going to tell me at all. If I hadn't told him, he would have kept it from me forever. And I just can't believe how fast it happened. He wasn't even there a week."

  Our dinners arrived and Larissa said to me, "Another drink?"

  "What do you think?"

  She smiled and ordered us each a refill. When the waitress had left, Larissa said, "This'll probably come out wrong, but I'm so glad that's your reason for feeling stupid."

  I frowned. "I don't know if it came out wrong or not, because I don't get it."

  "As soon as you said what Ian had done, I was afraid you'd be regretting picking him over Kegan."

  I leaned back in my chair and shook my head slowly. A smile began to grow on my face as I said, "You know, that never occurred to me. I was mad at Ian, and hurt, and ready to claw her eyes out, but I never once thought I should have picked Kegan instead." I still didn't. I knew I loved Ian and wanted to be with him. Whether it would work out... that, I didn't know.

  Larissa wiped imaginary sweat from her forehead. "I'm so glad."

  My smile faded. "Me too, but it might not matter anyhow."

  "Why? You picked Ian, he knows it--"

  "Yeah, and we both know what we did. At least, we know some of it. I was one kiss away from falling in love with Kegan again, and I have no idea how close he was to sleeping with that... that Jessica, but I know it was too close. How can we get over that? How are we going to trust each other?"

  I dropped my face into my hands, then peered at her through my fingers. "What's the point of picking Ian if our marriage is over?"

  "Do you think it's over?"

  "I have no idea how he feels. He says he still wants me, but..." I shrugged.

  "How do you feel? Do you still want him? Still want to be married to him?"

  "I do," I said instantly, then paused and gave it a bit of thought before going on. "You know, I really do. It hurts that he let that happen with Jessica, but I do believe him that he stopped it."

  "Do you know how he felt when you told him about everything?"

  "I didn't tell you? He punched a hole in a wall."

  Larissa dropped her fork with a clatter. "He did? Ian, the guy I've never even seen annoyed, punched a hole in a wall?"

  I nodded. "I can't believe it either."

  "You'll be fine."

  She sounded so definite that I felt my fear lessen just a little. "What makes you so sure?"

  "If he'd said, 'Oh, well, whatever', or you had, then I'd be more worried. The passion's obviously still there, since you both care so much. It'll probably take a while to get back to normal, but it'll be okay."

  I took a sip of my drink so I wouldn't cry, then said, "I hope so." Staring into the glass, I said, "What if it's not there? Not like it was with Kegan, I mean. I don't want to be thinking about him when I'm with Ian."

  I looked up, and despite my concern had to laugh at the look on her face. "What?"

  "Don't make me imagine you with Ian, please. I don't need the visual. I'll never be able to look at Ian again, or you for that matter." She rubbed her temples as if trying to massage the thought from her mind.

  "What freaky things do you think we do?"

  She pointed an accusing finger at me. "Stop it right now, or I'll never have sex again and it'll be all your fault."

  "Doesn't hurt me," I said, shrugging. "As long as I get to have--"

  "I'm warning you." She picked up her drink and pretended to be ready to throw it at me.

  "Okay, fine, don't visualize it. It'll just make you jealous anyhow." Ignoring her pretended drink tossing, I added, "But I am worried. What if things aren't the same?"

  She set down her drink, apparently realizing I was truly upset. "They were good before, right?"

  "Before Christmas, yes."

  "Christmas?" She looked confused for a second, then her face cleared. "Since his parents."

  I nodded. "I think that's why it was so intense with Kegan. No baggage."

  "But also no shared history," she said, then gave me a 'hold on' gesture as I started to protest. "I know you have history with Kegan, but with Ian it's adult history. You guys bought that car together, found your house, even got Ninja together... and yes, you went through his parents' deaths together. Not everything's fun, but it makes your relationship more real."

  "I guess." I swirled my fork through the pasta sauce on my plate.

  "You didn't want Kegan to go out with Fiona, did you," she said. It wasn't a question.

  I shook my head.

  "How does that compare to how you feel about Ian and Jessica?"

  Our eyes met, and I searched for the right words. "Like the difference between an ice cube and the Arctic."

  "And you're afraid the passion's not there. Doofus."

  "Don't call me a doofus, you doofus."

  "Hey, if the name fits..."

  "Did I say I'd charge you twice the usual price for your redecorating? I meant three times as much."

  "Rip off!"

  "Cheapskate."

  "Six of one, two dozen of the other," she said, laughing. I folded my arms and glared in mock fury. She glared back, then grinned.

  "You guys'll be fine, chickie."

  I grinned back, but I still wasn't sure. We'd done some pretty serious damage to our marriage in the short time Ian had been away; could we really recover?

  "Hey, you said you told Tasha about all this, right?" I nodded, and she went on. "Does she know what you decided?"

  I shook my head.

  "Call her. I have an early shoot tomorrow morning, but if she's around we could have a couple of drinks."

  I pulled out my cell, and in minutes Tasha had agreed to meet us. As I put away the phone, I said, "I'm not going to tell her about what Ian did, okay?"

  "Makes sense. The fewer people who know, the better."

  "That's what I thought." I paused for a second. "I'm glad I told you, though."

  "So am I. I missed you, you know."

  "Ditto. Oh, and I really am sorry about Greg."

  She shrugged. "Plenty more fish in the tank."

  "Sea."

  "See what?"

  I looked at her and burst into laughter. We laughed like fools for several minutes, and the tears were pouring down my face when we finally stopped. Good tears this time.

  Wiping her eyes, Larissa said, "Want a reading before Tasha gets here?"

  "Sure."

  She pulled the tarot cards from her purse. I gave her a little half-smile and she raised an eyebrow at me.

  "I was just thinking. It's only been a few weeks since you last did this, but a lot's happened."

  "Much water under the dam," she agreed.

  Dam? Oh, never mind. I shook my head and waved my hand at the cards. "Read on, my lady."

  And so she did.

  "Think of a question that you want to have answered, and then pick out four cards, while you're thinking of the question. The first card will be the future, and the other thre
e will tell us more about your question."

  There was only one question I wanted answered. I pictured Ian and chose four cards, holding them in my hand as Larissa put the rest of the cards away.

  Larissa took the first one from me and turned it face up on the table. It showed a naked woman wrapped in a sash holding what looked like double-ended candlesticks. The corners of the card had a golden-haired man, an eagle, a lion and a bull. It had the words 'The World' printed at the bottom edge.

  "This is 'The World'," she said rather unnecessarily. "It means that you are in a position to get your heart's desire but that you have to bring two or more parts together in order to get what you want. You will be happy and connected."

  I felt warm and fuzzy inside. "I assume you know what my question was?"

  "I have a pretty good idea," she said, scooping the other three cards out of my hand and laying them out face up on the table.

  "You have the Nine of Cups, the Ten of Cups, and Temperance. The two Cup cards also talk about getting your heart's desire and about achieving happiness. Temperance is about balance and synthesis, and about being healthy in all areas of life."

  "So, summary please," I said. I could have summarized them myself, but I really wanted to hear it from Larissa.

  "You're going to be just fine," she said, dazzling me with a big goofy grin. I grinned back and started to feel tears welling up behind my eyes. I blinked hard, still smiling.

  "Okay, Miss Candy, no waterworks," she said, ignoring my outraged reaction to the 'no Candice' thing. "We need more drinks!"

  *****

  When I got home, weak from laughing with my friends, I finally did what I'd been putting off all day and called my mother.

  "Happy birthday," I said, trying to sound cheery and unconcerned.

  "Thank you." The icicles dripping from her words would have chilled a polar bear.

  "I love you, Mom."

  After a painful pause, she said, "Do you?"

  "Of course," I said, doing everything I could to put my feelings for her into my voice. "I love Ian too, though. He's a good guy, Mom. I wish you could see that."

  She sighed. "So do I, Candice. Tell me the truth. Are you really happy with him?"

  As the tears rose in my eyes, I gave her the answer I hoped would be true. "I couldn't be happier."

  "That's all I want, for you to be happy. I just didn't think Ian was the right one."

  I took a deep breath and said, as gently as I could, "Isn't that up to me to decide?"

  "I guess it is," she said, after a moment. "Yes, I guess it is. What time does Ian come home tomorrow?"

  "In the afternoon. The flight comes in at one."

  "Do you... do you think he might be up for coming over for dinner on Sunday?"

  It was my turn to pause as I fought back the tears. "I think he'd be thrilled. So would I."

  "Did I say I was inviting you?"

  "Mom!" I faked indignation but was delighted at the mere idea that she'd see Ian without me.

  "Oh, fine, Candice, you can come too. See you Sunday evening. Tell Ian..."

  When she hadn't finished her thought in a few seconds, I said, "Tell him what?"

  "Tell him... tell him I hope he has a good flight."

  To: ianw@buildaid.com

  From: ninjacatrocks@hotmail.com

  Subject: how're you feeling?

  I feel weird. How do you feel?

  My mother and I had it out a few days ago about you. I told her she had to be nice to you. She's invited us over for dinner on Sunday. She invited you first. Can you believe it? And she says she hopes you have a good flight. So do I.

  I got great news at work today, but I'll save it to tell you once you're here.

  I love you.

  C

  Saturday, August 27th

  I woke up, snapping awake as though an alarm clock had gone off, at four in the morning. The house was utterly silent. What had woken me up? Then it hit me. Ian was coming home today.

  I pulled the blanket up more tightly under my chin and stared into the stucco of the ceiling. It was going to be so strange having Ian home, and I just wasn't sure I was ready.

  So much had happened while he'd been away, and I was nervous about seeing him. I did still love him, I knew that. In some weird way, I actually loved him more, because I'd decided to stay with him over Kegan. But the fact remained that we'd both taken a pretty big step sideways during our time apart.

  When we met again, would we be able to take the same path?

  Ninja wandered in just then, distracting me. He scrambled up onto the bed and snuggled into my hip, purring loudly. I stroked his silky head.

  "Enjoy it, bud," I mumbled. "When your daddy comes home, you're back in the basement overnight."

  Ninja made a sound rather frighteningly reminiscent of a grunt of disgust, and we drifted off to sleep together.

  *****

  I got up at eight and took myself to the gym for a nice easy workout. After, I gave the house a thorough cleaning. Once the place looked less like an evil demon had swept through it ("All fear Detritus, devil of dirt and clutter!") I took a shower and got dressed.

  A sudden wailing burst forth from downstairs, and I ran down to see what was going on. Ninja had apparently assumed that I'd abandoned him, as he was sitting in the middle of the floor pouring out his agony. He stopped abruptly as soon as he saw me, with a rather embarrassed look on his face. He did this every so often, and he always looked sheepish. I picked him up for a big hug, and then settled him into one of his favorite cat beds.

  On the coffee table beside Ninja's bed were my two new bears. I left Ian's one where it was so he could see it when he got home, but I picked up the box containing Kegan's gift. I couldn't find any store name on the box, so I didn't think I could return it.

  What was I going to do with it? It looked like it had probably been expensive, and I couldn't bring myself to throw it out, but I also didn't think I could keep it. I thought about putting it away until Ian and I could decide what to do with it, but that didn't seem right either. If only I knew someone who wanted it...

  An ad I'd seen on the subway ages ago flickered in the back of my mind, and I went upstairs to the computer. Sure enough, the zoo was holding a charity auction in just a few weeks and they were soliciting donations. I found a padded envelope and tucked the bear, still in its box, carefully inside. I filled the envelope with crumpled newspaper and then struggled to address it, lumpy as it was, to the zoo's charity coordinator.

  I took the package downstairs and put it beside my purse to mail when I left to pick up Ian. Looking down at it, I felt a pang of sadness. It really was a beautiful little bear. I couldn't keep it, though; it would remind me of Kegan every time I saw it, and I didn't need to be reminded.

  Not of that, anyhow. I did need to remember that I'd made mistakes, and that I'd eventually done the right thing, that I had the strength to do what I wanted.

  But the bear tattooed on my back could remind me of all that.

  I turned my back on Kegan's bear and went upstairs to get my earrings, but was stopped dead by the sight of myself in the mirror on the closet door. My outfit, a swingy black skirt that Ian loved on me and a baby-blue t-shirt that would be perfect with my shawl, looked gorgeous. I looked gorgeous.

  I really did. I don't think I'd ever thought that word in connection with myself before, much less said it, but this time I said it right out loud. "You look gorgeous." I said it, and I meant it.

  *****

  By ten-thirty, I was completely ready. I didn't need to leave for the airport until noon. What could I do that wouldn't make a mess of the house or of me? I tried to watch television, but I'd forgotten just how banal most weekend shows were, and I quickly became frustrated. I tried reading, but none of my current novels seemed appealing. I needed a hobby, but they're difficult to acquire on the spur of the moment.

  Finally, I decided to do nothing. Since I couldn't come up with anything to do, I figured I might
as well make a conscious choice to do nothing.

  I poured myself a glass of water, added a slice of lemon and a cucumber spear like the spa had done with their water, and headed for the balcony. I spent a few minutes checking out the plants, and discovered to my joy that my strawberry plant was bearing one strawberry. Completely unripe, but it would get there.

  I settled down on one of my Ikea chairs, and stared out over the ravine. Birds flew in and out of the trees, accompanied by an incredible variety of songs. A squirrel came right up on the edge of the balcony, and we watched each other for a few minutes until some signal I didn't recognize made him skitter away. The trees swayed and danced in the breeze, and my petunias repeated their movements on a small scale. I sipped my water, watched the shifting patterns of the trees' leaves, and breathed deeply.

  When it was time for me to leave, I felt like I'd had a week's vacation.

  *****

  Standing at the arrivals gate at the airport, I played with the edge of my shawl and tried to hold on to the peace I'd felt, tried to protect it from the waves of fear and uncertainty that were washing over me.

  Naturally, Ian's plane was delayed. If I'd been late, it would have been right on time. Only thirty minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

  Finally, the announcement came that the plane had arrived, and that the passengers would be disembarking shortly. (That word always makes me think they'll come out of the plane barking and yipping, which would be quite entertaining, but sadly it never happens.)

  People streamed out of the airport gate. The crowds caused a great deal of confusion as people tried to find their families and friends. Most people seemed happy, although I did see one sour-looking man meeting an even more sour-looking woman. They didn't kiss, didn't hug, barely even seemed to speak.

  Would that be Ian and me?

  As I waited, the stream of people became a trickle, and then just one or two stragglers came out, and then nobody.

  Where was he?

  I stood for a few minutes, staring at the gate as though I could somehow will it to release him. Either it was particularly resistant or my willing skills were sub-par, because Ian didn't appear.