But there was no push-and-pull, no attraction and repulsion, between us, and without that I knew we were nothing but friends. I felt no stress or tension with him, just happiness and peace, and I'd never once had a lover who didn't leave me feeling unsettled and confused. So we were just friends, and inviting him over for no good reason would make that less clear to us both.
But what to do with myself? A quick check of my readers' things-to-do lists suggested spending a big block of time doing my nails or giving myself a facial, but I'd done my nails the night before and I didn't have any face masks or anything like that.
My eyes fell on my dog, lying on the floor chewing energetically at a burr stuck in his leg fur which he'd somehow managed to pick up in downtown Toronto.
I didn't want an at-home spa treatment, but maybe Paddington did.
He loved water, as befitted his breed, but I hardly ever bathed him because it took longer than I wanted to spend. I had noticed him smelling a little extra-doggy lately, though, so why not?
He did get brushed weekly, but usually as if I were in a race. This time I took it easy, making sure not to leave a single tangle or clump of loose fur behind. He loved the attention, rolling around on the floor, and though that made it harder to keep track of where I'd brushed it was also so cute I couldn't make myself try to stop him.
When the burr was gone and his fur lay silky smooth, I gathered up the grapefruit-sized ball of fur I'd removed and threw it out then took him to the bathroom where he sat watching as I gathered his shampoo and conditioning rinse and all the towels from my linen closet.
Once I'd checked the water temperature, I helped him hop into the tub then began wetting his fur with the handheld shower head. I was soon as wet as he was, since he kept shaking the water off himself, but I just wiped my face and carried on. I washed him twice, then rubbed in the conditioner and sat on the toilet lid looking into his eyes and talking baby talk to him until I figured his fur had softened up as much as it would.
He seemed to like the baby talk so I kept it up as I rinsed him, telling him he was cute and adorable and would no longer smell like an elephant and I loved him and he'd better not shake himself again because he'd already half-drowned me. When I was sure the conditioner was gone, I squeezed as much water as I could from his fur with my hands before scrubbing him dry with several towels. Then I barricaded the still slightly damp beast in the kitchen so he could air-dry without soggying up the couch.
I wiped the leftover fur out of the tub then took a shower myself, a nice long one with lots of hot water and a lovely sweet-smelling body wash Larissa had given me a year ago which I'd apparently been saving for some occasion. Tonight was enough of an occasion, I decided, and the stuff smelled so great I promised myself I'd use it regularly. Then I put on my favorite fuzzy pajamas and went downstairs to check on Paddington.
He was adorably fuzzy, and seemed pretty much dry, so I spread an old blanket over the couch and we snuggled up together. I didn't know about him, but I felt warm and cozy and calmly happy. I'd tried so many times to take a bath to relax myself, but giving Paddington one then savoring a shower had proved to be far more soothing.
"I really do love you, you know," I said to him. "Even though I don't always give you enough time."
He looked up at me, then laid his head on my knee and closed his eyes.
I scratched behind his ears. "You're the perfect man, you know. A nice big blond one, sweet and adorable and not pushy. You'd be the exact opposite of Felix, that's for sure." My fingers stilled. "No chance of you turning into a human, is there?"
Without opening his eyes, he nudged me with his nose.
"Sorry," I said, going back to scratching him. "I guess you're pushy after all. You'd better stay as a dog."
Chapter Forty-Three
"So, what's new?"
I blinked. "Nothing. Why?"
Felix smiled. "Can't I make conversation?"
"Well, sure, but you haven't been. We've hardly talked for a week."
He leaned forward from where he was sitting on the edge of his desk. "I know, and I'm sorry about that. Kelvin's kept me busy." He reached out and patted my hand. "But I've missed you." On the last pat, he left his hand resting on mine.
He took a breath, and I jumped in before he could speak because I had a feeling he was about to ask if I'd missed him and I didn't want to admit that I'd barely even thought about him. Too much else going on. I drew my hand back, pretending I needed to sweep my hair off my face, and said, "Felix, I'm supposed to be working with Percy right now. If you've got something you need to discuss with me, I can make him wait, but if we're just here to chat I should probably get going."
He tipped his head to one side, then gave me a grandfatherly smile. "Of course. I'll be quick." He narrowed his eyes, as if something had just occurred to him. "The guy watching hockey with you. Was that Percy?"
There was no reason to keep it secret and yet I didn't want to tell him. I knew full well he knew full well it was, and his 'oh, I just thought of it' act grated on me. But I still said, "Yes. Is that a problem?"
He shook his head, looking surprised I'd asked. "Why would it be? I'm just jealous he gets to spend time with you like that."
While I tried to find a response for this that didn't include some version of "he doesn't make me feel off-balance all the time", Felix went in a different direction. "Well, enough about him. I'm a little worried about you. That post you did yesterday morning... it concerned me."
"Oh? Why?"
"You seemed to feel bad about things you'd done. And I just hoped that what we did on Valentine's Day wasn't part of that."
For an instant I had no idea what he meant. Then our kiss returned to my mind. "No, of course not," I said, so surprised I'd forgotten that I hardly knew what I was saying. "That was before the challenge anyhow. No, really, it's nothing, just a few little things that have happened."
"Well, good." He reached out and gave my hand another squeeze. "Excellent. All right, off you go to Percy."
I left, but went to my desk instead. I called over to Percy, "I'll be right there," then sat pretending to answer emails and trying to understand why I'd wanted Felix's kiss so desperately before it happened and why he didn't seem anywhere near as attractive now.
*****
Percy insisted on taking me to lunch again, but since we didn't have a lot of time because he needed to work with Patricia in the afternoon and she had snapped that he had to be right on time he suggested we go to the café up the street.
"It's a bit of a step down from Steel," he said as we walked through the steadily falling snow. "But it's still nice."
It was indeed, casual but comfortable and soothing with its cool colors and clean lines, and as we waited for our food we chatted with none of the tension I'd felt with Felix.
The tension arrived, though, after our meals did.
"Flipper, I've got something to tell you and I'm not sure how you'll take it."
I set down my fork. "You're scaring me." He was, actually, since I'd never seen him so serious before.
"It's time for me to move on. From work, I mean."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "But you're doing so well. And I'll miss you so much. Please don't quit. Whatever's making it hard for you to work, I can help you."
He blinked, then he smiled, his eyes warm. "I haven't made myself clear. I'm not quitting, not really. I'm going out on my own. I finally feel ready to start my own web design business."
Relief flooded me. "You idiot, you have to say stuff in the right order. Really? You're going to start it?"
He nodded. "Mom wasn't exactly loaded, but she did have a good few thousand dollars in the bank and now it's mine. I'm going to use it to kick-start my business."
"Good for you." I smiled at him. "Do you have it all planned out?"
I was expecting a vague response, but he pulled a file folder from the briefcase I'd been surprised to see him carrying to lunch and passed it to me. "Pretty m
uch, I think."
I read through the neatly formatted pages detailing how he'd find clients and what he'd charge and even how he'd do some pro bono work to get his name out there then handed him back the folder. "I'm beyond impressed. How long have you been working on this?"
His smile was sad this time. "Ages. A year or more. I just never..." He shook his head.
I didn't need him to finish to know what he meant: he never went after it while his mom was alive. I reached out and took his hand. "You're doing it now. That's what matters."
He squeezed my hand. "Thank you."
We sat in silence, and I looked at our entwined hands and wondered yet again why his touch always made me feel like I'd just had a long lovely hot shower.
Eventually, he tightened his grip again then released me. "I guess we should eat, right?"
"Yup," I said, trying not to show that I'd rather sit there holding his hand. I picked up my fork and said, "So, when are you going?"
He shrugged. "I'd like to see this project through to the end since I think getting all three of you ladies' web sites in shape would be good for my resume. But then I think it's time."
"But the project ends Friday."
He nodded. "I'm planning to give Felix my two weeks' notice then."
Felix might just send him home and not bother having him work the two weeks. He'd done it before. I might only have three more days with Percy at the office. I looked into his eyes and told him the truth. "It won't be the same without you."
He held my gaze, his expression calm and nearly solemn, for a moment, then grinned and said, "I hope not. If it is, everyone must be calling you Flipper."
"If they start, I'm coming for you," I warned him, then we moved back to chatting in our previous relaxed peaceful way. I couldn't stop thinking about it, though. I wouldn't get to see Percy every day. I'd truly miss him.
After lunch, we were heading back to work when he said, "Oh, one more thing."
I gave a mock groan. "You're joining the army. Running away to the circus. Getting married."
Something about my last option made my stomach twinge, but before I could wonder why he laughed and said, "None of the above. No, I've decided to stop looking for my dad."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "The guy left. He doesn't want to be around. And if he did, he could come looking for me. It doesn't seem 'good to myself' to look for him."
I laughed, and he did too, at his Felix-like inflection on the project name. Then I sobered and said, "Well, if it doesn't feel good, it's probably not right for you.
He slipped his arm around my shoulder. "Thanks. That's what I think too."
I turned to face him and we hugged. Leaning against his chest with his strong arms around me, I wondered how I'd survive at work without Percy around to make everything seem simple.
*****
After another wonderfully relaxing yoga class that night, I decided to make the forty-minute walk home rather than take the subway and bus since the night was cold and crisp and gorgeous. I'd forgotten my mittens at the office, though, and barely ten minutes into my trip my poor fingers were red and aching.
I still wanted to walk, though, so I stuffed my hands into my pockets and carried on, but when I passed my favorite thrift store I couldn't resist going in to see whether there might be something to save me from frostbite.
From past visits I knew the bin of mittens and gloves was at the back of the store, but on the way to it I checked out the racks and shelves. Lots of pretty things, including to my amusement some of the stuff I'd delivered to the shop in those three big garbage bags, but nothing that seemed perfect for me.
Once I found the bin I sat on the worn carpet and began working my way through it, taking my time and enjoying the hunt while my hands enjoyed being in the warm store. Most of the mittens and gloves were either the wrong size or completely not my style, but I kept out the ones that had potential and eventually had five pairs in my lap.
I looked down at them. The urge to pick one, or better yet pick all of them so I'd have variety, was strong, and understandable since I'd spent years ending my thrift-shopping trips by lugging home big bags of possibility. But I made myself try each pair on again and really think about it, really assess whether it made my heart sing and my hands feel truly happy, and in the end I couldn't say any of them did.
After packing them all back into the bin I got up to leave, but a glance toward the big windows at the front of the store showed me falling snow blowing around in gusts of wind and it made me reconsider. The mittens were two bucks a pair. I did actually need something to keep my hands from becoming icicles; the changed weather meant I'd take the bus the rest of the way home but I'd still have a frosty walk from the bus stop to my house. But I didn't love the mittens and I didn't want anything I didn't love in my life any more.
Envisioning the post-bus walk I'd have to endure, my mind's eye saw something in the convenience store parking lot barely a block from home and I made my decision. I plucked the simplest and seemingly warmest mittens from the bin and took them to the cash register.
As I waited in line, I saw a small Paddington toy, the original bear himself wearing his yellow raincoat and boots, and I couldn't resist getting it for Percy since he'd said he'd had one as a kid.
After my bus ride I pulled on the mittens against the now-bitter cold and walked fast to keep the rest of me at least somewhat warm too. When I reached the convenience store, I shucked off the mittens and tossed them into the clothing donation bin I'd remembered seeing in the parking lot then raced home with my hands in my pockets.
Perfect. I'd essentially rented the mittens, and now I'd helped someone else get warm hands and had no unnecessary purchase weighing me down.
Chapter Forty-Four
I set the Paddington toy on Percy's desk early the next morning then went to Starbucks to work since Patricia was yammering away behind the closed conference room door at full volume about downloads and stickers, whatever that meant, and I knew I wouldn't able to think straight. When I returned to the office at around eleven-thirty, she was wearing headphones and working silently at her desk with her mouth pulled into a tight frown, and Sasha sat staring at her screen with a dreamy grin.
"Hey, guys," I said as I closed the door behind me.
Sasha turned to me, looking happy and relaxed. "Hi. Have a good evening?"
"Not bad. You?"
Her smile widened. "Yup."
I smiled back. "Good stuff."
Patricia sniffed and shoved her headphones harder against her ears.
Percy met me at my desk with a white plastic bag in one hand and the toy I'd given him in the other. "Thanks." He smiled and waved Paddington at me. "It's exactly like the one I had when I was little."
I tossed my coat over the back of my chair and sat down to pull off my boots and slip my feet into one of the few pairs of heels that had survived my closet purge. "You're welcome. I saw it and thought of you."
"And I you. Well, sort of."
He sat on the edge of my desk facing me and handed me the bag.
I looked up at him, trying to figure out what his words meant, then peered into the bag and burst out laughing. "It's so cute! Is it..." I pulled it out. "It's my Paddington, right? Kind of?"
He laughed too. "Yeah, kind of. If your Paddington and a polar bear had a baby and the baby was a chew toy, this would be it."
He was right. The creature in the bag had a doggy kind of face but white plushy fur and a tiny polar-bear-like tail. Funny-looking, but cute. "Well, my Paddington will love gnawing on it. So thank you."
He smiled. "You're welcome." He leaned a little closer. "Look, I'm going to a friend's bachelor party on Saturday night, but I was hoping you'd let me take you out for dinner on Sunday. To thank you for... everything you've done for me."
His eyes held mine, and I knew he meant helping him get the job and helping him gain the strength to leave it. "I'd love that."
He grinned. "Perfect. I was thinkin
g Steel." He pulled his phone from his pocket. "Let me book it right now."
I looked up the number for him on my computer and he dialed then made goofy faces at me as the call went through before jumping and saying, "Yes, hi. I want to make a reservation for Sunday night?"
His startled response to having his call answered made me giggle, but I stopped when he said, "Oh, really? That's too bad. For me, I mean. Not for him."
He paused and listened, while I tried to figure out what could have been said to him to get such a weird answer, then said, "That's good to know. Thanks. Bye."
"What was that all about?"
"Steel is closed Sunday, and so is its sister restaurant Magma. The owner's getting married so he's closing both of them for the wedding day."
There was something extra-romantic about that, about bringing your business to a full stop while you got your married life started. "Well, now what? McDonald's?"
He gave me a mock frown. "I can't take a lady as classy as you to McDonald's. Burger King, maybe. Tim Horton's, definitely."
I laughed. "Nice to know where I rank."
He winked at me. "I think there's a place next door to Steel. Can I..."
He reached toward my laptop and I pushed it over. After a few seconds' typing, he said, "Yup, there it is," and within minutes he'd called and booked us a table at Dominique's for seven o'clock, after first checking to make sure that time was all right with me.
"Good," he said, clicking his phone off. "So it's... a plan."
Our eyes met and a sparkly shock danced through me. The words 'it's a date' hung in the air, and I almost thought I liked the idea.
*****
I'd asked my readers while I was at Starbucks what they were doing to take care of themselves, telling them how I'd bought then re-donated the mittens and how nice it had felt to really listen and know I didn't want anything else. After lunch with Percy, at McDonald's so, in his words, 'you'll really appreciate Sunday', I settled down to read through their comments and cheer them on.
Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13) Page 22
