The Wish List

by Linda Leigh Hargrove

“I’m sorry. I should have worn—”

  He stopped her with a wave of his hand. “I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have said it like that.” He took a breath. “I apologize for being so abrupt. These pain meds...”

  “I’m sorry for your arm.”

  “Stop apologizing for my arm. Please. It was an accident. Enough said. You look nice, by the way. I wasn’t expecting you to unpack today anyway, even if you came in sweats. I just wanted to show you where my office was. And give you my key.” He handed her a single gold key attached to a black plastic oval about the size of a business card. “This plastic fob is for front door entry to the Hub and the gold key is for the office door.”

  “Thanks.” She slipped the key chain into her purse.

  He pulled a slip of paper from his jacket pocket. “And here is that list I promised you.”

  She unfolded it. At the top, he’d written: Zeus’ Wish List. There were seven things on the list. He’d listed them bullet fashion.

  He positioned himself behind her and pointed over her shoulder at the list. “They’re all business related, sorta kinda. You don’t have to do them in order. For instance, we’re going to be looking for the yellow record first. I do need help organizing things here in the office before Ray gets to town but that can come later. I figure I can help direct you although I probably shouldn’t be moving much.”

  “Amen.” She focused her brain on the words on the list, trying to push his nearness out of her mind. “You’re going to have to explain what these mean.”

  He pulled a pen from his back pocket and smiled. “What? My random scribbles don’t make sense? May I have the list back?”

  As Freddie relinquished the list to him, their fingers brushed. Her heart did a funny flip. Chelsea’s teasing voice came to mind.

  Don’t come home pregnant.

  She pushed her friend’s admonition away. Freddie knew better than to go to that most intimate place with this man, or any man. She was a different woman now. And anyway, Zeus de Sousa was nothing like Carlos. She felt that something was happening between her and Zeus. She hoped it wasn’t just her imagination. She liked this feeling and didn’t want it to end.

  Chapter 7

  Zeus rested a hip on the office desk and scribbled on the list. A lock of hair fell over his eyes and he tossed it aside. It was a simple gesture, but it made her want to touch his hair even more. Cramming her hands in her pockets, she bit her lip.

  Oh good Lord help me. Focus, Freddie.

  He talked as he wrote. “Let’s see…the makerspace is actually Chelsea’s idea for the group home, from the app. You’re familiar with makerspaces, right? Like a center for tech toys and activities for folks interested in science, technology, and engineering.”

  Freddie nodded. She knew her way around technology like computer aided drawing and building design, but she’d never used a makerspace as he described. Did that make her a dinosaur? At least she didn’t have to lie to Zeus. Even with all she was doing to prepare for her wedding, Chelsea was more in tune what kids were into these days. Just last week, she had told Freddie something about setting up a 3D printer and buying DIY robotics equipment for Lacey and the other kids, but it had gone in one ear and out the other.

  It was kids’ stuff, in her mind, and she didn’t do kids so well.

  “I think she or Marc has a detailed list,” Zeus said. “I believe in what they’re trying to do for kids. I want you to work with them to finish the ordering before Christmas. They don’t know any of this, by the way. So, you get to surprise them.”

  “Got it.”

  He kept writing. “Stay within this budget. Now, the second thing on the list is here in this office.”

  “Yellow record?”

  He nodded and started examining the labels on the boxes. “How was church about?” he asked with his back to her.

  She frowned. “How...?”

  “Marc texted me some photos. I was supposed to be there. From the photos, it looked like a lot of fun.”

  “It was nice. The sermon was about being pregnant.”

  He turned around with an alarmed look on his face.

  “In a figurative sense,” she added quickly in an attempt to save the conversation.

  “Oh, like being full of anticipation for Christ at Christmas?” he asked and went back to looking at his boxes.

  “Something like that. Can I help you find something? I’d hate for you to strain your arm.”

  “Yes, I’m looking for a box labeled ‘records’.”

  “Yes, of course. Records…” She stepped closer and started reading labels. “Records…”

  Oh goodness, why did he have to smell so good? She fought the urge to lean in close and inhale.

  “Here it is,” she said, tapping a box toward the back. Two other smaller boxes rested on top of it.

  He looked closer at the labels then backed away. “You can put all three of those on the desk.”

  She complied. This all-business Zeus was growing on her. Freddie ducked her head to hide her smile of admiration.

  He went back to going over the list. “Okay, the third, fourth, and fifth things on my wish list.”

  Freddie ticked them off on her fingers as he scribbled. “The hospital app, eat at Joe’s, and art museum website?”

  “Yes.” He looked her in the eyes and smiled. “Yes. Good memory.”

  “Thank you.” Was she blushing? “I’m a licensed general contractor. A GC has to keep up with lists and things.”

  “Good for you.” His smile widened. “I like that quality in a business partner.”

  She could feel her face and neck flush hot. Good grief. She was blushing, and probably getting a little red in the face.

  She cleared her throat. “So, um...what about those things?”

  “Yes...the list. You’re a business owner. Tell me what you know about relationship marketing in the business context.”

  “Well… as a business owner…” Where was he going with this? Should she bat her eyes and mumble something or just tell him she had no clue.

  That smile, though. Those eyes.

  Bat your eyes, girl.

  “So, relationship marketing,” she started, “I’d say it’s like when I built my first tiny house on a truck farm just north of Wake City. Actually, it’s my only tiny house so far. The owner, Big Red, can only afford to pay in installments. He plans to rent it out to bring in more revenue. He says he’s land rich and cash poor.”

  Was that a judgy thing to say? She glanced at Zeus to see his reaction. Still smiling.

  She went on. “He and I agreed that he can’t rent it out until he’s finished paying. In the meantime, he displays my business shingle next to the house. So, it’s really about long-term customer loyalty and connection. Not about the quick sale.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Really?” She giggled. “I mean…thanks.”

  “Wake City’s hospital and art museum are listed as charities in Sousa Source’s Wish List App. Before this freak accident with my arm, I’d committed to visiting them. A goodwill kind of thing. You know, relationship marketing.” He smiled and winked at her. Her heart stopped. “And so, you seem to grasp the whole customer loyalty thing, I think you can rep Sousa just fine.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure thing. Now, as far as Joe’s restaurant goes. I’ve been told that Joe Chu has the best sushi in town. Do you like sushi?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “So, do I. Well, we’ll have to do dinner this week. Take out. He might be a new customer. Market research.”

  Was he hitting on her?

  “Of course. Market research.”

  Smiling, he turned his attention back to the list. “Okay. So, the last two things on the list are my personal wishes. Last week, I promised Marc I would drop by the library and read a couple Spanish Christmas stories during Santa’s story time. Story hour is a thing he does every year bu
t not in Spanish. That was my suggestion. We live in changing times culturally. We can stand around debating policies and politics but the simple fact remains, people need help. So, can you help?”

  Read to niños? Gulp.

  “I don’t mind,” she said.

  “Cool. Thanks for stepping out of your comfort zone a little. And then the last thing …” He tapped the paper on the desk. “Hopefully, I can come along on this outing.”

  “Outing?” She leaned over and read the seventh bullet item upside down. “Tree lot with kids.”

  “Yep. Remember the Mexican kids who are coming to the group home? Tessa and Trey mentioned it at the bookstore.”

  “Yes, I remember. They said they might need a translator.”

  Zeus confirmed with a nod. “I wanted to treat them to a live Christmas tree. I heard Big Red does a big lot and even brings in food trucks.” He shrugged. “Kinda corny, right?”

  “No, it’s perfect.”

  And so are you.

  He handed his wish list back to her. She slipped it in her back pocket.

  “Now, let’s find that LP.”

  “Oh, it’s a long-playing musical record?” She touched the three boxes on the desk. “Vinyl?”

  A grin spread across his face as he rubbed his hands together. “Yep. With a turntable. You’re gonna love it. It’s one of my favorites. I figure if I have to stay indoors for a while, I might as well enjoy my time.”

  She couldn’t imagine what record had him so excited. If this was the old Zeus, she’d guess it was something to do with the Simpsons. Had they the fictional cartoon characters with yellow skin done a music recording on vinyl? Who knew?

  The smaller box on top shifted forward when she moved the stack. She heard a muffled rolling sound.

  “Marbles?” she asked.

  “My collection. Couldn’t leave Texas without bringing them along.”

  “Some things haven’t changed.”

  There was so much comfort in knowing that this little quirk remained. She took it as a very good sign. Maybe, just maybe, this meant other parts of the man she’d grown to admire were still there, buried under this exterior of professionalism.

  Chapter 8

  Freddie turned her head and brushed her hair on the left side. “This time I’m walking to New Orleans,” she sang.

  She hummed the rest of the song because she couldn’t remember the words. It was a wonder she couldn’t because Zeus had played that one song at least five times last night.

  The yellow record, as it turned out, was a George Benson LP featuring remakes of many 1950s classics. She’d become so comfortable with the music, and with being in Zeus’ apartment, that she’d drifted off. When she awoke, she caught him watching her. In that moment, she saw a glimpse of the shy boy who had taken all summer to express his love for her.

  “Walking to New Orleans…” Freddie leaned in closer to her dresser mirror and applied a little blush. “I’ve got my suitcase…”

  She’d helped him take some of his record collection, his marble collection, and an ancient turntable up to his temporary digs over Ciro’s Place.

  The apartment consisted of a small bedroom and bath with a sitting room and kitchen. Chef Ciro Fields rented it out to his cooking students sometimes, according to Zeus. Lucky for him, Ciro did not currently have a culinary protégé.

  “Young lady?”

  Freddie looked toward the voice in the hallway. “Hello, Grammsie.”

  “Did I just hear you singing a Fats Domino tune?” Elsa was holding folded towels and washcloths.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea. I guess. Catchy tune. I heard it yesterday and I can’t get it out of my head.”

  Chelsea appeared from around the corner. “She was on a date with a boy, Gramm.”

  Freddie rolled her eyes and attempted to clarify. “It was not—”

  Elsa giggled. “It’s no use, Freddie. Chelsea is gonna tease you till the cows come home.”

  “I don’t care about the cows, Grammsie.” Freddie closed her makeup bag and snagged her purse from the bed. “I just want her to leave me alone.”

  She pushed past Elsa Parker and her pesky granddaughter and headed toward the stairs. “I was re-paying a debt. Making amends. I fell on the man and broke his arm, for goodness’ sake.”

  “You can’t say that for sure,” Elsa started. “Who’s to say he didn’t break it when he braced himself during the fall. That’s a common injury. Surprised he didn’t break his wrist. We used to see so many kids at the hospital like that.”

  “Well, that makes me feel a little better. I was beginning to think I needed to lose a few pounds.” She rounded the corner into the kitchen. They were still following her. Elsa with a stack of linen. Chelsea with a smirk on her face. “Chelsea, I’m trying to change my mercurial ways.”

  “Mercurial?” Chelsea exclaimed.

  “Yeah, you used that word on me the other day.” Freddie turned to Elsa. “She gets engaged to a librarian and all of a sudden she’s using big words.”

  “I know right,” Elsa commiserated. “Day before yesterday, she called me jocose.”

  Freddie placed a hand on her forehead. “Juh what?”

  “I did not,” Chelsea protested. “It was jocularity.”

  Elsa laugh came out like a bark. “I had to look it up.” She placed the towels on the sideboard and put on oven mitts. “It means playful. Breakfast casserole, anyone.”

  “No,” Freddie said as she pulled a banana from a fruit basket. “Gotta fly.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Chelsea yelled as Freddie jogged from the kitchen. “You did that on purpose. Changing the subject on me like that.”

  Laughing, Freddie waved from the front porch. “I’m a master of diversion.”

  ***

  The hospital parking deck seemed full, so Freddie parked in the shopping center across the street. She was running late for her meeting with Wake General’s Marketing Director. According to the email Zeus forwarded her, a Mr. Jackson would meet her near the visitor’s desk across from the hospital gift shop.

  When she approached the desk, she made a discovery: Zeus was already there.

  Freddie smiled at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I can’t visit the hospital?” His smile was infectious. “It’s a free country. I can hop in an Uber and go anywhere my money will take me. Right?”

  “True but I thought you were going to stay home and rest. Prop your arm up on pillows like you told me yesterday.”

  “Speaking of yesterday, I had fun.” He moved closer and played with a thread unraveling from his temporary sling. “I’m glad you like Benson. Ray hates that LP. ‘You need some Latin music, Zee,’ he says to me. ‘Get some J Balvin or somebody, anybody Latin.’ I do sometimes but … you know, sometimes I like to mix it up.”

  She always liked that about him. He wasn’t afraid of following his own beat. It was comforting to see this side of him again. Why had he been so guarded before?

  “I understand,” she said. “I enjoyed yesterday too. It didn’t even feel like work...I mean business. But I can handle this meeting with Mr. Jackson.”

  “I’m confident you can. I’m not here to meet with him. I’ve got an appointment with an orthopedic doctor. X-rays and stuff. And a real cast today.”

  “That’s good.”

  The clicking of heels on travertine drew their attention away from each other.

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. de Sousa? I’m Harry Jackson, Marketing Director here at Wake General.” The tall, broad-shouldered man beamed as he shook their hands. His shiny black dress shoes were an impeccable addition to his tailored look.

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” she said, ignoring Zeus slack-jacked reaction. “My name is Frederica Martinez.”

  Zeus was now glaring at the man. “She’s my business partner.”

  She could hear the tension return to his voice.

  “M
s. Martinez is helping me while I’m indisposed. We think I have a broken arm. Hairline fracture.”

  Mr. Jackson’s attention flickered to Zeus briefly. “Sorry to hear that.” Then his alarming blue eyes were back on Freddie. “So, Ms. Martinez. Can I call you, Frederica?”

  “I suppose.”

  Mr. Jackson took her by the elbow and started steering her away from Zeus. “Please call me Harry. So, as I understand it, you and I have 30 minutes together.”

  “I can come along,” Zeus added, raising his voice to be heard over the noise caused by a large group of people entering the hospital with flowers and balloons. “My appointment with my doctor isn’t for another 40 minutes.”

  Harry Jackson waved to Zeus without even turning around.

  Freddie heard the silver-haired information desk lady mutter “Poor thing” as she looked at Zeus.

  Scowling, Zeus held his hand up to his face as if he were holding a phone handset. “Call me,” he mouthed when Freddie glanced back at him.

  She nodded and followed Harry Jackson down the hall.

  Mr. Jackson gave her a quick tour of the hospital with special emphasis on the new wing under construction. For a marketing director, he seemed disinterested in marketing. Once in his office, Freddie tried steering the conversation to the Wish List App but the man wanted to talk about her. She diverted him back to the purpose of her visit.

  “Please let Mr. de Sousa know that we are very pleased with the app,” he finally said. “It’s a fine platform for increasing our footprint of philanthropy in the greater Wake City area. We just love it.” He came around his desk and sat on the corner closest to her seat. “How about we continue this conversation over an early lunch,” he said.

  Not good.

  Freddie glanced at her phone. She’d silenced it. There were three missed texts from Zeus. She smiled to herself. Who knew Zeus could be the jealous type?

  Jealous over me?

  That was an interesting thought.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Jackson but I really have to get to a job site in North Raleigh in twenty minutes. Duty calls. Busy, busy.” She stood and made a running in place motion. Her wedge boot heels made a cloppy sound.