by Kyla Riley
7
November 2017
Vanessa looked up from the sample she was inspecting and saw the small brown paper bag almost immediately as it was dangled over her table that she worked at. Glancing up at Shirley, she straightened and pulled off her safety glasses.
“What’s that?”
“A friend dropped this off for you,” Shirley told her with a knowing smile. “I’m glad of it too. Maybe you’ll stop all this moping around and…”
“What did he look like? What friend?” Vanessa interrupted, feeling her stomach flip over anxiously. Their divorce had been smooth, but Russ didn’t let go of his ‘playthings’ nicely. She discovered as much when he’d left a dead animal on her front porch. She couldn’t prove it, but deep inside – she knew it had been him. Another night he’d lit a paper bag full of feces in front of her door. She had no idea until her neighbor had knocked on her door urgently, spraying it down with an extinguisher.
“Well, he was much friendlier looking than that man you just got rid of.”
“It wasn’t Russ?”
“No, sweetie. This fellow was beautiful with black hair and blue…”
“…Eyes that remind you of a clear lake on a dark night,” Vanessa whispered, finishing her sentence. She remembered the intimate way her stranger had looked at her all those months ago. Hearing Shirley laugh, the older woman’s hand patted her on the shoulder knowingly.
“Hon, the looks fade over time. Just make sure there is more to him than a pretty wrapper.”
“Shirley, that is a lesson that is hard-learned and I had a dose of it already. I think I have my head on straight this time,” Vanessa whispered sagely. She hoped she did at least. “Did he say anything or leave a note?”
“He just said it was from a friend. You could do with one or two of those, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I think you might be right.”
Vanessa accepted the paper bag and the large cup of coffee. Pulling off the lid, she sniffed and smiled. Cinnamon, nutmeg and a massive dollop of cream on top told her that her taste buds would enjoy this. She had a sweet tooth, and when it came to coffee, cocoa or even hot tea – she liked a little flavor to it. Peeking inside the paper bag, she pulled out a napkin and smiled. Two cups and a plus sign were drawn on there with blue ink. Underneath of the scrawled drawings were three simple words that made her smile faintly.
Maybe someday soon?
At the bottom of the bag lay a massive chocolate cupcake and a fork. Vanessa did grin this time and jumped to her feet. It had been forever since she’d indulged in cake or any extra treats. Since she’d been cut off financially, things were tight. This simple gesture made her day!
Walking out of the office, she strode past Shirley’s desk and headed out the front door. The cold November breeze instantly gave her goosebumps as she looked around for him. That had to be the sweetest way, literally, to ask someone out and it certainly worked on her. Glancing around, she looked for his dark head among the crowd of people that walked around, eventually heading back inside to her desk area.
“Shirley, if he comes back – don’t let him leave without me knowing it.”
* * *
Fiacha watched Vanessa as she darted out the front door from his car as he sat at the traffic light not far away. He’d hurried back down the street to where he’d been parked and pulled onto the road, not expecting to see her looking for him. He couldn’t help feeling a desire to stop right there in traffic and run to her. Go slowly, he reminded himself. He wanted her to be interested in him and he was fearful that he would blow it.
Seduction came in many forms. Sometimes it was a touch, a smile, or a taste – and when he saw the elegant, large cupcake… he went with his gut instinct. Glancing down at the bag on the passenger seat, he grinned. He’d enjoy a cupcake tonight as well and think of her.
Over the next several days, Fiacha snuck in and conspired with the older woman at the desk. Shirley was very protective of Vanessa and that instantly made her an ally in his mind. He’d delivered different trinkets or flowers each day for a little over a week. Different things that he hoped would make her happy or smile. He wanted to woo her and make her feel special.
Each afternoon, he watched her walk home and it made him feel almost lost knowing that she was cold and alone. There were so many unanswered questions that he had, and he would only understand if he knew what was going on.
Shirley had informed him that Vanessa didn’t come in until later in the day if he wanted to bring her something for lunch. The way she said it and when she told him was quite telling. Fiacha was done trying to court Vanessa, he needed to take care of her. The protective streak was strong in him towards her.
“Lunch? Does she have a favorite meal or preferred food?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Why? Do you have separate lunch periods?”
“No, we take our lunch breaks together but she never eats.”
“She doesn’t? Do you know why?”
“I think it’s money,” Shirley whispered. “She will eat if I bring enough for two, but she never ever takes care of herself anymore. I told her to call me if she needs a ride, but Vanessa doesn’t have a phone since the annulment.”
That rocked Fiacha to the core.
She’d dissolved the marriage.
A modern young lady with no means of communication? Annulled, not divorced. That meant that Russ never touched her. It also meant that she’d been cut off financially and was barely scraping by if she didn’t have money for food or a car. How could a family simply cut off one of their own? He was very close with his family now that they’d been reunited – he couldn’t imagine simply denying one of them the ability to take care of themselves.
Family stood by each other and protected each other.
It was the very core of their beings – something he remembered his father preaching to them as he tucked them in at night as children. He was done hiding in the background. If her family couldn’t be there for her, a friend certainly would be.
* * *
Gathering her things, Vanessa pulled her jacket around her tightly. The temperature was supposed to drop significantly and the weatherman on the television was calling for a heavy frost. The past several days had been a whirlwind of excitement, happiness, and frustration. First off, she had to remind Shirley repeatedly that she was to tell Vanessa when he showed up. She wanted to quit referring to him as ‘he’ and at least get his name.
Each day brought about a new surprise, delivered quietly with a note and masked in a simple paper bag. The day after receiving the cupcake, she had initially thought he’d delivered another one to her when she saw the paper bag. As she peered inside, she frowned at the box.
Pulling it out, she opened it and saw it was a beautiful jeweled comb. It looked to be silver with flowers inlaid on the edge and had a few jewels set in the soft metal. It was not something she could wear to work, that was for sure! A true treasure, literally, and she needed the money. It would break her heart to pawn it and she hadn’t been able to do so yet.
The very next day, another brown bag was delivered and Vanessa gnashed her teeth in frustration. Shirley had announced ‘whoops’ and ‘that she forgot’ to come and get her when her suitor arrived. Inside today’s bag was a compact mirror and tiny tubular box.
Curious, she opened it to see it was a tube of lipstick. Blushing, she opened it and twisted the bottom to see it was a deep shade of red that screamed to be worn. Grinning, she opened the compact and swiped it on her lips to see that it was truly complimentary of her skin tone. Had he remembered her in so much detail that he was able to pick a color? She was beyond flattered and impressed.
Another delivery had been a delicate tea cup that made her gasp at the sheer beauty. She recognized the Japanese pottery for what it was, Kintsugi. The stunning clay piece had been deliberately cracked and repaired with gold. It was usually bowls, and she’d seen them several times at museums or on display
– rarely as a cup.
It was beyond valuable and she wondered if he realized the deeper meaning behind it. The process is supposed to make the piece even more beautiful and resilient after the crack is repaired with the gold. It was certainly a telling symbol of her own life, that was certain!
Vanessa actually felt herself getting weepy as she carefully held the delicate cup and thought of all she’d gone through. She had felt regret at the thought of parting with the beautiful comb, but now she realized that she couldn’t part with any of the pieces. They were all treasures to her for completely different reasons. It was like he was trying to build her up or make her feel good about herself.
Pulling her hat onto her head, Vanessa stepped out from the back of the office and walked past Shirley’s desk. As she stepped into the waiting room, she jumped, startled as she saw someone standing there in the corner of her eye.
“Oh!”
It was him! He was standing there in a dark suit holding a bouquet of roses that made her flush with pleasure. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you, lass.”
“Vanessa,” she corrected quickly and yanked off her glove, sticking out her hand nervously. She was not going to let him get away without getting his name this time. He. He. He… she was done with dubbing him as her ‘he’.
“My name is Vanessa and you are…?”
“Fiacha Colm Cael. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said politely with a smile as he leaned forward. Instead of taking her hand and shaking it, he turned it over and kissed her knuckles. Nervously, she jerked her hand backwards. His surprised eyes glanced up at her quickly.
“Germs,” she announced lamely and gave a nervous laugh. “That’s a very tongue twister of a name. Say it again, please? It’s Fi-acha?”
“Yes. My father named me that after my uncle. It translates to little raven,” he said with a wry smile. “Dark hair runs on my father’s side of the family.”
“I like it. It’s different. There are a lot of Tom’s, Dick’s or Harry’s out there, but Fiacha is certainly unique.”
“It’s something. Most people will call me Fi, it’s easier.”
“I think I will stick with Fiacha,” she said shyly.
“I’d like that,” he told her quietly and she felt awkward in the small room alone with him. There was too much that reminded her of the last time she this happened. He was even more gorgeous than she remembered – and she hadn’t forgotten a precious moment of it.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping you’d join me for dinner,” he asked politely with a shy smile that melted her heart. She liked that about him. He seemed so very open and easy to read. He’d looked so sad at the bar, and now he looked like a shy boy asking out a girl for the first time.
“I’m not sure that is a good idea,” Vanessa admitted, looking away sadly. “I don’t know if I am…” He took a step closer to her. His hand reached out and upturned her chin. Her eyes met his dark blue ones.
“Ready to date someone yet?” he finished.
“Exactly.”
“Then good. We’ll have dinner together as only friends,” he countered simply and moved his hand away, smiling. He held out his arm and set the roses down on the coffee table in the waiting room. A silent signal that if she wouldn’t date him, he would still be taking her out.
“I won’t take no for an answer, Vanessa.”
She hesitated for several moments. Her stomach was growling painfully and she knew it would be ramen when she got home tonight. Frankly she was tired of the cheap noodles and running out of ways to doctor it up in order to make it more palatable. The thought of a hot, delicious meal and getting a chance to assuage her curiosity was beyond tempting. Maybe she’d go- just this once…?
“Then I hope you brought your wallet. I am starved.”
At his wide smile, Fiacha held out the crook of his arm for her to slip her hand inside. Fiacha seemed to be trying to make it now as unromantic yet friendly of a gathering as possible. She looked from the roses on the table to him. A dozen red roses, the symbol of longing or desire. She put her arm in his tentatively.
“Tell Shirley the roses are for her if you don’t want them,” he said simply and stepped forward. Why on earth was he giving Shirley roses but inviting her to dinner? He was a strange, confusing man. Vanessa held back for a moment and looked at him with confusion. As if he read her mind, Fiacha suddenly gave her a shy smile.
“I brought them for you…but if you don’t want them, it’s okay.”
Without a word, Vanessa picked the vase up. She didn’t want to identify how strangely possessive she felt of the flowers he’d brought her and looked straight ahead. She ignored his wide happy smile that split his face and the way it made her heart flutter with joy. She’d be damned if anyone else was getting her flowers- regardless of the meaning behind them.
Fiacha Cael was a perfect gentleman over dinner. He drove to a small restaurant nearby that made her relax just a bit. He was, after all, still a stranger to her. If things went south during the evening, she wanted to be able to get home easily and taxi cabs could be quite pricey.
It had been a long time since she’d had dinner out and nothing she prepared at home ever tasted as good. There was something keenly special about going out, having someone cook for you and not having to do the dishes. Combine this with an incredibly handsome man that seemed to only have eyes for her – a heady combination.
They talked for hours on end and Fiacha seemed to sense that she was nervous. He’d blatantly ordered a massive steak on the menu and looked at her in a silent challenge, his dark eyebrow arched annoyingly as if he was waiting for her to order. Did he want her to pick something cheap on the menu? She’d already laid the groundwork that she was hungry…so was he passively suggesting she get a steak too?
“I’ll have the same,” Vanessa ordered softly, watching his face for the condemnation that Russ or her father would give. Either one would change her order and get her a smaller cut of meat. Once Russ changed her order to a salad because she was getting a bit ‘thick in the middle and wouldn’t fit in her wedding dress’.
That should have been a glaring red flag, she thought to herself, and realized that Fiacha was smiling at her with approval.
“Good,” he uttered with satisfaction and turned to the waiter. “I’ll have my steak cooked extremely rare, a baked potato fully loaded and could we get some of those decadent yeast rolls?”
“Medium-well, please.” Vanessa chirped in immediately and lowered her voice an octave. She could not handle too much pink in her meat. “I will also have a loaded baked potato- with extra butter.”
The waiter left the table and she realized that they were now alone in the booth. Talk about an awkward first date. She glanced at him and then looked around the restaurant, searching for anything to say to break the ice.
“I’m glad you came to dinner with me,” he began quietly. “Please feel free to be yourself and relax.”
“I’m a bit nervous.”
“And I am shaking in my shoes,” he chuckled, holding up one hand. She could see it trembling and smiled softly, touched by the idea that such a handsome man was nervous about asking her out.
“Maybe we should both relax a bit?”
“I just would like to know more about you.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” she murmured and accepted the glass of water that was brought to the table.
“Would you like some wine?”
“I’m not much of a drinker,” she admitted. “Even if we met at a bar.”
“Same here,” Fiacha concurred. “I am fond of a stout ale though. Would you mind terribly?”
“Oh no! Order whatever you want,” she stammered.
“I’ll have a pint of whatever dark lager you have on tap.”
Vanessa ordered an iced tea with lemon and clenched her hands in her lap under the table. This was harder than she expected and might
have been a mistake. She was beyond nervous and anxious that she was running headlong into yet another screw up. First Russ, then the bar… her confidence was shaken.
“You know I couldn’t sleep for weeks on end thinking that I’d ruined your life… and when I saw you at your wedding? I was only there to wish you well. It was never my intention to cause strife for you, Vanessa. I want to apologize if I did,” he said softly.
Her eyes glanced up at his in surprise. That was the last thing she expected him to start a conversation with! She thought that perhaps he would be glad that she was single again or that he wanted a repeat of the events at the bar.
“Fiacha, you don’t have to apologize,” she began and stopped. “I appreciate it but I was making a terrible mistake and unsure how to handle it. If I had truly loved Russ, that moment at the bar between us…”
Vanessa flushed and swallowed hard as a rush of images flooded her mind. She could see Fiacha’s heated expression as he took her and the way she’d met his body eagerly. The feel of him had never slipped her mind and surged to the forefront at the most inopportune times. She’d sampled sheer heaven in his arms and had dreamt of doing so again – and here he was.
“…That moment at the bar wouldn’t have happened,” Vanessa finished.
“Do you regret it then?”
“No,” she whispered. “Just the timing of it.”
“Aye,” he agreed softly.
The waiter interrupted them by setting down their drinks and a large basket of rolls. The scent of the bread made her mouth water with the thick, yeasty aroma countered by the sweetness of the maple butter that was brought out to accompany it. As he left, Fiacha held aloft his glass stein full of what looked to be almost a black beer. Vanessa raised her own glass of iced tea and met his gaze.
“To new beginnings, lass.”
“To second chances,” she agreed, tapping her glass against his carefully.
The rest of the meal seemed to flow smoothly. Fiacha was completely charming and very open about himself; however, looking back on their conversation later- Vanessa realized they mostly talked about her. Her childhood, her job, and what she enjoyed doing in her spare time. At the end of their meal, he insisted on getting two large desserts to go.
