‘It’s hideously embarrassing, though. She wanted the kitchen renovated before we had such important guests.’
‘Go on!’ My mouth dropped open. ‘You’re kidding, right? I don’t remember that. Oh God, what a scream. They did, too, didn't they?’ My eyes widened, remembering the new kitchen. ‘You’re right, that’s awful. Do you think my parents even realized?’
‘Probably. You know how that sort of thing gets around. I was completely ashamed of Mum, but she can’t see her daft pretentions. And that’s a damned good reason we can’t let her control our wedding.’
I giggled, half-horrified. ‘How do you think they’ll get on with Martin’s parents?’
‘God, I shudder to think! I’m dreading it. In Mum’s head she wants to do the whole one-upmanship thing and impress them with her humble three-bedroom semi. But the Aussies I’ve met don’t seem to think like that. The whole class structure concept barely seems to exist over there. People generally say what they think and are much more upfront about everything. I think it’s a cultural thing, cos they’re not worried about what people might think, not like my dear old Mum.’ She gave me a smirk. ‘If she could see their house she’d have a fit.’
‘You told me they have a pool, so I guess they have a big garden. What’s the house like?’
‘Huge.’ She swept her arms out dramatically. ‘We could fit my parents house in it nearly three times, and it’s much more modern, but it’s not grand or anything. It’s just normal, kind of like your mum and dad’s house.’
‘You do know I felt awkward about my parents’ house when we were at school, don’t you?’
She gave me a sideways glance. ‘Maybe, but only because you went to an ordinary comprehensive. You know if they’d sent you to a classy private school you’d have met heaps of other wealthy kids and some of their houses would have been much grander than yours.’
‘True. But Mum and Dad wanted us to be normal, not precious, and I’m happy with the way we grew up just like everyone else.’
‘Only without financial hassles,’ she responded, her tone dry.
‘I know.’ I changed the subject again. ‘Hey, Brigid told me she’d heard Tony and Lisa are divorcing. Any idea why?’
‘I’ve heard that. Lots of rumors. The best one is he didn’t like how kiss-huggy she was with Bianca.’
‘I’ve wondered if he hated being party to all of Eddie’s deceit, especially with his pay rise.’
‘Hah,’ she said. ‘I used to like both of them, but everything changed with Bianca’s blitzkrieg charm offensive. We were just too naïve to see what the malignant bitch was up to.’
My brain couldn’t focus on disruptions I was about to leave behind. I changed the subject to Shona’s wedding again, relieved to have happy thoughts instead of failures.
She gave me a big hug when she left late that afternoon.
‘I’m going to miss you. Who else can I gossip with once you’re gone?’
‘How about Brigid? We were great together at school. And the three of us sharing my old house together was heaps of fun. I’ll never visit my house now it’s theirs, but if those walls could talk, they’d be filled with our laughter more than they ever were by my brief connubial misery.’
‘I know. But even though she’ll be my second bridesmaid, she’s just not you. We got on really well as a threesome. But you’ve been the glue that kept us together, so it’s not the same.’
I shrugged. ‘I’ll be back for a flying visit over Christmas, we can have a proper catch-up then.’
‘And don’t you forget to call me and text me how you’re getting on. And, most of all, don’t forget to save that date in June for my wedding.’
‘I won’t. Make sure the bridesmaids dress is in a color I’ll love.’
‘Sorted,’ she assured me. ‘Blue for your gorgeous blue eyes.’
‘Good. Just don’t go changing your mind at the last minute and make it any shade of pink.’
‘I promise. Now let me go, you have last minute packing.’
I stood on the doorstep waving her out of sight down the long drive.
I sent a text that evening to Cal.
‘Hi Cal, nearly finished packing for Chicago. I’m really nervous. If you or Leah are in that part of the world before Christmas, I’d love to see you. How are things in Alaska? Love R.’
I nearly deleted the word “love”, then decided I was being ridiculous. It was normal to sign that way, wasn’t it? Well, of course it was – after all, he signed his texts with love, so why should I feel awkward doing so?
Chapter Twenty-Three
The hospital had arranged rental accommodation for me. A two-bedroom apartment I shared with other staff on short contract stays. In my first weeks my flat mate was an Australian nurse, and a barrel of laughs. On her free nights she dressed up and headed to singles bars or parties. I tagged along, having more socializing fun in three weeks than I’d had in five years. Knackered by the time she completed her contract, I lay on her bed, slugging wine and chatting while she packed. After her mid-afternoon flurry of departure, I fell asleep where I lay, not stirring until the following morning.
With a ten-day gap between her and my next flat mate, I read books and surfed dozens of TV channels, not yet bold enough to venture out on my own.
Cal called during my solo stint, to let me know he’d be in town next week. Would I like a visitor?
Did I want a visitor? Duh. Of course.
I prepared a casual itinerary for our day and prepped the spare room for his overnight stay.
On the big day I woke to a gorgeous day brewing outside my apartment. A cloudless sky, blue as forget-me-nots, hovered over a busy cityscape, the softer autumnal sun bouncing light from window to window. I flung open windows and the door onto my balcony, and flitted around with a last-minute plump of cushions, straightening of books and photos. I stopped, half laughing. Cal wouldn’t notice unimportant housekeeping details.
One last appraisal of my apartment and I heaved a sigh of pleasure. The owner loved rustic farmhouse-in-the-city decor. Interior brick walls were an ochre color with cream trim, reminiscent of Tuscan villas. Two sofas and two armchairs were a deep, cobalt blue, dotted with colorful cushions. Dinnerware and pots were a butterscotch yellow with burnt orange and indigo edging. Bookshelves lined walls, filled with old books, some of which I’d already devoured, reading avidly while eating alone.
Four months had passed since I saw Cal in Anchorage and I was nervous, my stomach skittish and my palms sweaty. I liked him. A lot. Hand on heart, I no longer had romantic feelings for him. But I worried we’d have nothing to talk about. What if our brief bonding in Alaska had run its natural course and we were two strangers with nothing in common?
The doorbell rang and I jumped. I wiped damp hands down my legs, smoothed my t-shirt, shook out my hair, took a deep breath and opened the door.
As eye-catchingly beautiful as I remembered him, Cal stood on my doorstep, tanned and fit, blue-grey eyes sparkling. My heart added a few extra beats as I gazed up at him. Damn. Too attractive. A slow smile crossed his face. Like a flower unfurling, I smiled back, basking in his warmth.
‘I was expecting Rose to answer the door, but a stranger stands before me. Where’ve you hidden her?’ He grinned a cheeky grin. ‘Rose, you look great. Divorce suits you.’ He leaned in, wrapped his arms around me and hugged. A big, generous hug.
Thrilled, I hugged him back, face pressed against his denim shirt, inhaling his smell of soap and sandalwood.
‘Thanks, Cal. All compliments gratefully received. Come on in.’
He strode into my apartment, looking around. Good thing I’d tidied.
‘How are you, international traveler?’ He stood in the middle of my living room, his tall figure taking up more space than I remembered. ‘How’re you liking Chicago?’
‘I love it. The city’s interesting, the people are friendly, work’s very busy, and I already love it.’ I flung my arms wide, ‘And I have this huge
apartment. I feel like I’m in the middle of a surreal dream.’
He grinned. ‘You’ve only just started travelling. Maybe you’ll get the travel bug, like Leah, packing only a suitcase with each move.’
‘You think? I’m not sure that’s for me. Or maybe I’ll want somewhere to put down roots, I don’t know yet. This first step is big enough for now. How about you, still enjoying every new experience?’
‘Yes, I am.’ He sobered for a moment. ‘I’ve been in Oxford for a week, catching up with family and old friends. It was good to go back for a short stay. I’m not ready for more than that. Yet.’
‘I understand.’ And I did understand. ‘I wake up every day blissed out that I’m far away from all the conflict, leaving behind months of misery. I won’t bump into Eddie or Bianca and their baby somewhere in town. I’m in no hurry to return to Cambridge. I’m loving it here.’ I did a little skip of happiness. ‘Thanks to you and Leah I’m not sitting in a self-pitying slump fighting over a house I didn’t want anymore.’
‘We were only too happy to help. Hey, I brought something.’ He deposited his backpack on the floor and pulled out a wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’ He handed it to me and dropped down into an armchair. ‘You’re looking great. Tell me how you managed to go from being gorgeous to stunning beauty.’
I snorted, sitting on the sofa opposite him. ‘Kind words, my friend, but stunning I am not. I’ll settle for attractive, that works for me. And, when we met up in Alaska you saw me unhappy, overweight and my hair a total mess, so don’t tell me I was gorgeous.’
Eyes twinkling, he shook his head. ‘I meant every word. Don’t knock an accolade.’
‘Well, thanks.’ Uncertain, I shot him a sideways grin.
‘So, tell me.’
‘Tell you…? Oh, that’s right. I remember, you’re like a dog with a bone, persistent questions until you get answers.’ Amused, my lips curved into a small smile. ‘Well, there’s not much of a mystery to losing weight. Concentrate on fresh fruit and vegetables. Bread turned out to be an addiction. It’s a treat when I occasionally eat it. Skip the junk food and find motivation to work out. It sounds simple, but at first it was hard, disciplining myself not to eat comfort food when I felt unhappy. Chocolate, however, is still on the menu.’
‘Congratulations. You have a great figure. You look great in jeans, they show off your very cute tushy.’
His tone was gently teasing, while his admiring gaze told me he meant it. An attractive man complimenting me was balm to my wounded self-esteem, but too much praise made me awkward.
‘Careful. You’ll make me blush, Cal.’ I aimed for a light tone, but he sensed my diffidence.
‘Would you like me to stop complimenting you?’ Uncertain now, his gaze turned solemn.
‘No, not really. But if you overdo it, I’ll feel too self-conscious.’ Without thinking, I touched my funkier hair, reminded of how much I’d changed. ‘I lived without compliments for a while; it is good to hear nice things.’
‘Hey,’ he said, tone gentle. ‘Don’t let your ex knock your self-esteem. I don’t say anything I don’t mean.’
Mm, I thought. But too many accolades and I’d start looking at him again with too much interest.
‘And right now,’ he added, ‘You look so much happier than when we sat and ate chocolate in my borrowed SUV.’
‘Ah,’ I said, with a smile, ‘what an unforgettable evening. Good company, aided by chocolate and a visit by a bear with an acrobatic flair. I look back at that night and I see it as the first step in a healing process for me. In fact,’ I added, eyes widening innocently, ‘It’s either you or the chocolate that acted as my medicine. It was the first time I’d felt happy in months.’
‘I hope it was yours truly, having the desired effect, since if it was just the chocolate I should leave now.’ The glimmer of laughter in his eyes belied an anxious twist to his mouth. Could Cal be tentative about our friendship, too?
‘No need for that.’ I laughed, quick to reassure him. ‘Give yourself a big pat on the back, I’ve had chocolate a few times since I saw you, and it’s definitely not the same as your company.’
‘Good.’ He smiled a slow smile, stretching out long legs, settling in.
I looked at my watch. ‘Mid-morning. Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate, water, whatever? I’ve found the hot chocolate here is different, but really nice.’
He narrowed his eyes, feigning deep thought. ‘I can see you like living on the edge, so why not hot chocolate? It’ll take a bit of convincing me, mind you, I’ve found chocolate curiously disappointing in some countries.’
‘Hmm. A challenge then.’
Given that we’re both confessed chocoholics, the challenge wasn’t hard. He followed me into the kitchen, watching with interest while I mixed a few ingredients acquired from a foray into Chicago’s delightful boutique cafes.
Fixings mixed with hot milk, I handed him a mug to savor.
After a few considered sips he nodded approval. ‘Well above average,’ he murmured. ‘Thick as mud and the touch of spice is a winner.’
‘Glad you like it.’ We moved back to the living area. I curled up on the sofa opposite him, tucking my legs under me and finally opened his gift. ‘A beanie? Why thank you, Cal, it’s gorgeous and so soft.’ I checked the label. ‘Cashmere. Thank you. Blue’s my favorite color.’ I wound my hair into a knot and put on the hat, tucking in loose tendrils of hair. ‘What do you think?’
‘Definitely you, and matches your blue eyes. My gift for the Chicago winter. The wind off the bay is bitter.’
‘Thank you, I’ll enjoy wearing it.’ I pulled it off and put it on the coffee table. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you know Chicago’s weather. Let me guess. You’ve spent time living here, but not for beach sports or driving tourists around?’
He nodded, eyebrow raised.
‘You want me to guess? Let’s see. Something to do with Lake Michigan?’
He grinned.
‘Sailing? Competition or fun?’
‘Fun. And it was part of a gap year back in the days before I started student life. I crewed for a season, on a sixty-foot sailing boat. We had all the weather Lake Michigan could throw at us, including huge waves and howling winds and driving sleet. You could say,’ he paused, with a broad smile, ‘I found out why you need a beanie for winter.’
‘I’ll make sure it stays on next time I go sailing.’
His eyebrows shot up, hitting his hairline with a thud. ‘You’ve been out there?’
Eyes dancing, I nodded. ‘I’m not a complete dud at sports, you know. Just surfing – and I still think I could learn that. My parents gave us sailing lessons when we were kids and we twice had sailing holidays in the Mediterranean; until teenage kids arguing all the time on the confines of a boat drove Mum and Dad mad. Anyway, yes, I’ve been sailing here. I met twin doctors at work, Sally and Simon, both surgeons. We hit it off big time. They have a sixty-five-foot ketch and have taken me and a couple of other staff out twice already.’
His astonished face filled me with a sense of gratification.
‘Well, shoot me down. Here I was, thinking you don’t like water sports.’
‘Score one for me. I’m a strong swimmer, I like kayaking, sailing and even fishing. I’ve also been windsurfing on Grafham Water, although that’s a while back.’
‘Hah! I’ve been sailing on Grafham Water, too.’
We eyed each other in disbelief.
‘What are the odds we were there on the same day?’ he asked.
‘Good question. Most of my sailing lessons and windsurfing were there. We’d make a family day of it with picnics and races. I’ve run the ten miles around it, too. How often did you get there? It’s a much longer trip from Oxford than it is from Cambridge.’
‘Only a handful of times, I suppose. Not likely we’d ever have met.’
His wistful look had my heart beating faster.
Then I remembered Leah’s description
of Cal’s marriage to Lily. Perfect and his soulmate. My heartbeat returned to normal.
‘Well,’ I said, standing to retrieve our mugs. ‘An opportunity missed. You’ve finished up in Alaska now. Where are you off to next?’
‘Alaska was an excellent experience. Flying back to England, not so much. I dropped in on Leah in Boston for a couple of days, checking out her new boyfriend. He seems like a nice bloke. And now I’m here.’ He stood up and stretched. ‘Next is a flight tomorrow to New Zealand. For a walking holiday with some friends from uni. I’ll be there for about a month, as the weather there warms up for spring. Probably too late for skiing. After that I’ll nip over to Australia, for Christmas and summer, teaching water sports at a beach south of Sydney.’
‘You’re so busy! A life of adventure. I’m jealous.’
‘You’ve finished with the boring bits back in England.’ He followed me into the kitchen. ‘You’ll have to tell me what you’ve been up to since landing here.’
‘Cup of coffee this time?’ I said, switching on the kettle. His warm presence right next to me was distracting. Nevertheless, my hands remained steady. I refused to allow his proximity to overwhelm me.
‘Strong, hot and black.’
Mugs once more in hand, we sat down again.
‘Since I arrived, you asked.’ I mulled it over for a few moments. ‘Work has been a challenge. A steep learning curve. Socializing has been fantastic. I’ve been to bars, cafes, museums, flea markets and that gorgeous shop, P.O.S.H.’
His eyes gleamed at this.
‘You know P.O.S.H.?’
He nodded.
‘Fancy a visit this afternoon?’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘No. I love it. I put it on today’s itinerary, in case you were interested.’
He rewarded me with a big smile. ‘What else is on this itinerary?’
‘Wait and see. We won’t fit in everything, and I want to surprise you.’
‘Tell me something.’ His gaze sharpened. ‘When did you last enjoy your life this much?’
Eyes down, I contemplated his question.
‘Hmm. There’ve been a few minutes here and a few hours there, but it’s been a few years. Eddie kind of ruined about eighteen months of my life, with a rare spot of pleasure here and there – all of it before we were married.’
Promises Made- Promises Kept Page 29
