by Kris Bryant
She was so understanding, but I still wanted to see her. “That would be great. Will you call me later?” That didn’t sound too desperate.
“Definitely. Now get out of here before I lock this door and don’t let you out.”
I knew she was kidding, but I couldn’t stop the shock from showing on my face. I was still new to all of this.
“Kidding. I’m just kidding. Sort of,” she said.
***
“Hi.” Nobody called me except my boss, so I knew it was Hope. It was ten fifteen and I was on the couch with Clio, watching a cheesy romance movie and eating pizza. I’d checked my phone every two minutes until I finally gave up about ten minutes ago. Clio and I were thinking about retiring to the bedroom. The couch was nice, but not as comfortable as the bed.
“How are you? I’ve been worried about you.” I heard the concern in her voice, and the fact that she cared warmed me.
“I’m better. My world is quiet now.”
“You hung in there until the very end,” she said. She understood me.
“It was really a nice concert. I loved listening to the kids. And Kylie stayed through most of it.” They left about ten minutes before it was over. I counted that as a success.
“That’s right. You watched Kylie for a few minutes while Agnes talked to her insurance agent. Thank you for helping.”
“Kylie was so happy to hear music. She really loves the piano,” I said.
“Did you play something for her?” Hope asked the question, dragging out every word as if she couldn’t believe I did it.
“Sort of, but not really. I’m sure anybody could hit the keys and she would have enjoyed it.” I fidgeted with Clio’s collar. I was nervous that she would start asking more questions, the kind I didn’t want to answer.
“Kylie truly appreciates music. Probably more so than most of our therapy children. She knows when something is good. Between you and her, I’ll be playing perfectly soon.” Hope laughed.
“I’m sorry about that. I really have no place giving you advice,” I started to apologize again, but she stopped me.
“You’ve done nothing but help me. So stop it. I can handle constructive criticism.” She was thankful, but I felt rude, especially the first time we talked. I cringed, recalling that conversation. I wasn’t as rough around the edges with Hope anymore, but I was a far cry from being smooth. “Tell me about the rest of your night.”
“I basically locked myself in, shut the world out, and cuddled with Clio, who is still perched on my chest.” I rubbed his chin, which he jutted out at me and turned his head from side to side for thorough attention. We’d done this for hours before. “He’s really good at calming me down.”
“He’s really sweet. I wish he liked me more,” Hope said.
“Well, you’ll need to come back over and visit him.” Wow, that wasn’t bad.
“Why don’t we get together tomorrow? It’s supposed to rain, but we could go see a movie or rent one.”
I stiffened. “Um. Sure. We can rent a movie here. Maybe go out to dinner beforehand?”
I was already starting to get nervous. What if things got crazy? And by crazy, I meant what if she wanted more than kissing? I was just getting comfortable with her close to me, inside my personal space bubble. Visions of Carrie from college filled my head and I scowled at the memories. I knew Hope would be gentle with me. She asked if it was okay if she could kiss me. Did that even happen anymore? She was kind and thoughtful. She wasn’t going to throw herself at me.
We made plans to meet at the Purple Pig for an early dinner. It was close to my place and would only be a quick cab ride back.
“I’m sorry I left early, but thank you for inviting me to the concert. It was great to hear the kids. And you.”
“Thanks for coming. Good night, Lily.” I was still smiling when I picked up Clio and dragged him off to bed thirty minutes later.
Chapter Eleven
I was early to everything. We agreed to meet at the Pig at five, but I showed up at four thirty. I had never eaten there and realized much too late why. Too many people. Even this early, the place was packed. I told myself to relax, that everything was fine. It was raining, so waiting for Hope outside wasn’t an option. I leaned up against the wall near the hostess podium, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest. I closed my eyes and counted to ten.
“You know, there’s a cute little sandwich shop down the block. Why don’t we go there instead? Maybe take it back to your place?”
I opened my eyes to find Hope standing in front of me, blocking out the rest of the world. I nodded. She grabbed my hand and walked me outside. It wasn’t raining too hard, but she opened her umbrella and tucked us underneath it.
“Hi.” She handled the whole thing so amazingly well. My anxiety wasn’t gone, but it was no longer controlling me.
“Hi, and thank you,” I said.
She softly rubbed my arm out of comfort. Her touch was nice and her nearness even nicer. “Bad idea. I’d forgotten how crazy that place is.”
She was so close to me that I could have kissed her if I wanted to without much effort. I must have been staring at her lips because she stopped and I almost whacked my head on the front of the umbrella at my forward momentum.
“What is it?” I asked and looked around genuinely confused as to why we stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. It was crowded and people were scurrying around trying not to bump into us.
Hope leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn’t gentle and sweet. It was more possessive, and passionate, and I had to clutch her elbow to keep myself upright.
“Nice. What was that for?” Did I really just ask her that?
“I liked the way you were looking at my mouth,” she said, shrugging. “And you look really nice today and I wanted to say hello the right way.”
“You say hello very well.” My voice was shaky.
She playfully pulled me in the direction of the sandwich shop, which was thankfully not busy at all. It wasn’t elegant, but smelled delicious, and I was ready for bread baked with rosemary and other spices.
“If you order a salad, I’m going to be upset.” Hope leaned against me to see what I was looking at in the tri-folded paper menu on the countertop.
“You’re not good for my diet.”
Hope snorted and covered her mouth. “You do not need to diet.” She looked me over. “You look beautiful.” Heat raced up my body and flooded my neck and cheeks. “And now I’ve embarrassed you.”
I reached up and rubbed my neck. I wanted to believe her, but I knew it wasn’t true. I did, however, try a little harder before our date. I’d put on a touch of makeup and straightened my hair. The rain and humidity killed it within minutes, but there was a ghost of an attempt and I was glad it was noticed. A mirror behind the sandwich counter showed me a girl with rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and hair that didn’t look half bad. Not beautiful, but definitely lively.
“Come on. Let’s order so we can go relax and play with Clio.” Hope knew exactly what to say.
I cleared my throat and placed my order after she did. She added chips and brownies to our order even though I protested.
“Let’s just take a cab back,” I said. The train would have taken forever and I was done being around people and standing in the rain.
“Agreed. Wait here. I’ll get us one.” She shook open the umbrella and stood on the side of the street for about ten seconds, holding her hand up for attention. She waved me over as the driver pulled to the curb.
I climbed in and gave him my address. We settled in for the short ride. Hope reached out for my hand. Her hands were cool from the rain, so I automatically rubbed them with mine without thinking of the intimacy of the act. My body was always warm, especially when I was tired. Today, it was because she was so close to me.
“Our backup plan isn’t so bad,” Hope said.
“I don’t think so either. Thanks for accommodating me.” I didn’t need to say for what. We both knew I had issues being in
crowded places. “It’s not really fair to you though. I’m sure the Pig is a great restaurant.”
Hope shrugged. “It’s okay. I’d much rather spend time with you than the fifty people we would have sat by in that restaurant.” I smiled at that. She nudged my shoulder. “You have a very nice smile.”
Several years of orthodontics had ensured it was perfect. My parents needed their child to be all-around perfect—not just with musical instruments. “Thank you.”
I was going to have to tell her about Jillian Crest at some point if this relationship continued. That was going to be hard. Was I lying to her now by not divulging that very important piece of information? I looked down when her fingers tapped my knee.
“Hey, we’re here.”
Before I could reach for my purse, she handed the driver money, told him to keep the change, and crawled out of the cab.
“Are you coming or am I going to have to eat all of this by myself?”
I had no idea where my mind had gone during the duration of the drive. I led the way up to my place, anxious and nervous at being alone with Hope. I fluttered around my place after I opened the door, not sure what to do first. Even Clio was looking at me strangely, and he was my soul mate. I had to calm down, and only a few things helped me. I opened one of the large windows to invite the sounds in. I moved a few things around so that they wouldn’t get wet, but I needed the fresh air, the calming beat of the steady rain, and the traffic below. I took a deep breath in and out.
Hope’s fingers gently brushed my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I stammered out a pained laugh. “Not really, but I’m getting there.”
“Do you want me to go?” Her brow was furrowed with concern. She was very close to me. I shook my head.
“I don’t want you to leave, but I don’t want you to have to accommodate my quirks and anxiety attacks. And just so you know, they happen a lot.” I turned to face her. “It’s not fair to you.”
She took my hands in hers. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but just hush and let’s eat. We can figure out things: you, the meaning of life, and how we are going to save the world later. Right now, I just want to share a meal, feed a cat, and sit down with a beautiful, yes, beautiful, woman. Can we do that?” She wouldn’t let go of my hands until I agreed. “We don’t even have to talk.”
Hope took charge and directed me to sit at the couch, not the table. She found plates in the cabinet, glasses in the dishwasher, and napkins in the dispenser on the counter.
“Thank you.” I took the plate and waited until she got settled on the couch, one cushion between us. “Do you want to watch anything on television?” I didn’t know how to be a host. I didn’t know how to entertain.
“Nope. I want to sit here in silence and eat this incredible food.” She all but ignored me and started flirting with Clio. He graciously, and delicately, took a few bites of turkey from Hope’s fingertips.
Traitor, I thought. It was as if I didn’t exist. I ate half of my sandwich and a few chips before setting my plate to the side. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and relaxed. I hated that I couldn’t be normal. Traffic had picked up because it was Saturday night, and the rain had settled into a soft pitter-patter instead of the deluge from just a few short hours ago. Even eight stories up, I could hear random voices, shouts, and bouts of laughter outside.
“Do you worry about pigeons flying in when you have the windows open?”
I turned and stared at Hope. “Well, not until just now.” I jumped up and headed over to the window.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it for you.” Hope stood as if to help me, but didn’t move.
“I can just open the windows over by the fire escape. They have screens.” I wasn’t upset. I was glad she brought it up. I imagined a pigeon dive-bombing me inside my own home. Clio would be a hot mess, chasing it until he either caught it or dropped dead from trying. If nothing else, he was persistent with prey. “Now can we talk?” I found that I really wanted to hear her voice.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Her eyes held a playful sparkle.
I wondered how she always greeted life with a smile. She put her plate on the table beside her and repositioned herself on the couch. She slipped off her shoes, moved closer, and tucked one leg underneath her. She looked casual and completely at ease. “Are you going to be busy at work this coming week?”
“I honestly don’t know. My boss told me to take a few days off, but I never know what to do with extra time, so I told him I’d just get started Monday morning like always. I’m sure the workload is piling up. I get stuck with the projects that nobody else wants for whatever reason.”
“That’s because you’re smart and can figure things out. Just don’t let them take advantage of you,” she said.
People had been taking advantage of me my whole life. “I don’t mind doing most of the throwaway stuff. It keeps me busy and takes my mind off things.” I couldn’t believe I just opened that door.
“Tell me more about yourself. I know you’re a workaholic, you love math, you’re a music lover, and you have a soft spot for beat-up cats.” She held up four fingers and expected me to add to the list.
That made me smile. “I like to read.”
“You already told me that one.” She held up her thumb and had a count of five things about me. “Tell me what you like to read. Do you read science fiction? Paranormal stuff? Autobiographies? Or warm, fluffy romance books like I do?”
“I avoid romance books like the plague. I like historical books, and intrigue.”
“Oh, dear God, you read algebra books for fun. I’m out of here. Done.” She made a big production of standing up and leaving.
Out of sheer instinct, I grabbed her hand. It was a big step for me and we both knew it. “Stay. Find out more about me. I owe you that much.” I hesitantly released her hand and she sat down. A little closer than before. “Let’s see, I like origami, jigsaw puzzles, and libraries. I spend quite a bit of time at the library. I like the crisp sound of opening a new hardback book, and the smell of age on old ones. I love museums. We are so lucky to have so many here.”
“Okay, okay. Slow down. That’s a lot of information to process and talk about. We need to have a date at one of the museums because I love art and you could probably teach me quite a bit. Forget about working on a jigsaw puzzle together. You see how much I struggle over music. And origami? Would you make me something sometime? Or do you have anything here? I’m always so impressed when people can concentrate so hard and make something so perfect.” She seemed genuinely interested in my hobbies.
I held up my finger, indicating she was to wait just a moment, and made my way back to my office. I returned with a twisted triangle that I’d made during my very own blue period. I was proud of the blues and grays and all of the sharp angles—the way it jutted asymmetrically. I loved it because it pushed me out of my comfort zone. It was perfect in its imperfections. It made me feel normal and unsettled at once.
“I did this last winter.”
She took it gently from my outstretched hands. “It’s beautiful, Lily.”
I watched as she gingerly moved it around in her field of vision. She was afraid of breaking it, and I appreciated her gentleness. “How long did it take you to make this?”
“I can’t remember. Days at least. Some of them are really easy. I could make a small animal in about ten minutes.” I shrugged like it was no big deal, but I could tell she was impressed. My pulse quickened. An urge that I hadn’t felt in forever squeezed my insides and made my emotions tumble and scatter in all directions. I had to sit down. God help me, but I wanted to play for her. I wanted to sit at a piano and play something that I wrote, that I composed, just so I could have that look, that feeling she gave me again and again.
“Are you okay? You just turned white as a ghost.” Hope looked at me with concern.
“I probably should eat more.” I couldn’t imagine eating right now, but I powered through a few more
bites of my sandwich.
“Do you want to start a movie?”
“Sure, you pick.” I had no idea what was good or out. Please don’t pick out a romance, I thought. I watched as she scrolled through the movies.
“Oh, how about Rebecca Murphy’s latest? I wanted to see it at the theaters, but we were painting the center and I was too busy to catch it. Have you seen it?”
I shook my head.
Hope’s voice carried a lilt when she got excited about something. “It’s a rom-com. I think you’ll like it. At least, I hope you will.”
“Do you need anything or want anything before we get started?” Being a hostess was stressful. She reached down and pulled out the thin, gray blanket that was rolled up in a dark wire basket under the end table. Her fingers quickly splayed the corners and fanned the threadbare keepsake of my childhood over her legs. She leaned closer to me, enough so that I could smell the hint of sandalwood on her skin and the warmth of her breath when she faced me.
“I’m ready when you are.”
My eyes drifted down to her slightly parted lips when she spoke. I wanted to kiss her, but I wasn’t ready to make the first move. Instead, I kicked off my shoes, tucked my legs underneath me, and hit play.
Hope snuggled into the couch as if she’d been to my place a thousand times. She automatically reached for my hand and locked her fingers with mine. The first twenty minutes were a blur. I concentrated on the gentle press of her thumb rubbing back and forth across my palm. It was hard to follow the storyline and relax when my body was on fire. Her touch won out, so I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of a caress from another person. “Do you want to watch something else? Or do you want me to leave? Your eyes are closed.”
“I’m not tired.”
She cocked her head curiously at me. “Then why aren’t you watching the movie? If this is boring, we can always turn on a documentary on the importance of algebra as an adult or the decline of dairy farms in the Midwest.”