Fanny Bower Puts Herself Out There

by Julia Ariss

  Jack pulled his fingers through his hair and smiled. Irresistibly, she thought. His eyes travelled from her face slowly down to her bare feet and back up again, wordlessly.

  "It explains a lot," she went on. "And forgives a whole lot more - even better. I have a rich inner world. Loved that. I couldn't put them down. The books. You think I'm one, don't you?"

  "Introvert? A textbook case."

  "I suppose some writers hold up a mirror and force us to take stock," she said.

  "Are you lining up with who you thought you were?"

  "I'm in a minority, they say. One in four. Or was it, one in three are introverts? At any rate, all very exciting. I'm outnumbered by the Evie's of this world. It's weird. It feels like I just discovered a winning 649 ticket hidden behind all the mess of papers held under magnets on my fridge. I had it the whole time."

  "Introverts are often misunderstood."

  "I know!" she exclaimed. "Everyone wants us to be happy gorillas."

  He looked at her oddly. "Now that you know who you are, you can start planning your life."

  Fanny chewed on the inside corner of her mouth wondering whether he had been gently correcting her path all along. "I suppose I've been awfully busy trying to be something I'm not. But I've come full circle. Resistance is futile," she said, adding, "That said, I think I'm in good company... " But he was diverted, his head turned toward Sam who was sprinting gazelle-like across the field, with a bunch of wild flowers clasped in her hand.

  "Well. I'll let you get on with it. The limbering up," he said turning back to her, looking vaguely at sea, his eyes coming to rest on her bare shoulder.

  A fuzzy notion occurred to her, and she gave an involuntary gasp and brushed off her arms in a panicked spider check.

  "I'll catch up with you later," he said, shaking his head, before dashing off in pursuit of Sam.

  Fanny looked on as he met Sam at the far corner of the house to unlatch and swing open a gate. Sam reached out to squeeze his arm and cooed her thanks. Fanny blinked heavily and retreated into her room.

  She was determined to prove herself an indispensable houseguest, so she dressed quickly and hustled to the kitchen with the scone mix she'd premeasured at home, to which she added eggs, butter, milk and blueberries she'd purchased at a road side stand. While the scones were cooling she printed off, collated and bound her research from the evening before, adding handwritten notations. When she returned to the kitchen her father was polishing off a scone and Katherine was half way through hers. Katherine gestured to her to help herself to the fruit salad, juice, coffee and tea.

  "What? No raison?" her father quipped, reaching for another.

  "I see your appetite has revived," Fanny said, giving him a look.

  "Selfless act of devotion," he said, munching contentedly.

  "Good morning," Katherine said, smiling at Fanny, "and ignore. These are magnificent. The best I've ever tasted. You were smart to nab a basket of blueberries before the season is over. Mmmm... I must remember to stock raisons for the next time."

  "Yes, please do." Fanny's mouth twitched happily as she pulled up a chair, until her eyes settled on Sam's bouquet of wild flowers, arranged artfully beside the plate of scones.

  "Have the others had breakfast yet?" she asked.

  "Only Jack and Sam. Jack raved about your scones," Katherine said.

  "I'm glad they enjoyed them."

  "Sam had the fruit salad. She's in training for her next run," Katherine said.

  "She's on some no-carb, low-glycemic, anti-sugar regimen. Nothing white," her father said. "Sounds hideous," he added, through a mouthful of scone.

  Fanny poured herself a juice and then pushed her research tentatively across the table. "This is for you, Katherine. You may find this useful if ever you decide to go on that Safari. I couldn't help myself."

  "My gosh. You compiled this last night? I do like a hard copy. A table of contents even," she marvelled.

  "I've cross-referenced the best sites."

  "Hmmm... this is interesting," Katherine said, flipping through. “Humanitarian Tourism, Micro-financing, and Conservation... "

  "She's no garden-variety travel consultant," Fanny's father cut in.

  "Very impressive. I'll look forward to perusing this later," Katherine said, reaching over and giving Fanny's hand a squeeze.

  "Just one more for the road," her father said, snatching a third scone.

  "Oh, where are you off to?" Fanny enquired.

  "Or should I say - the open skies."

  "I've chartered a helicopter to take us all to Jack's winery for lunch," Katherine explained. "We lift off in an hour."

  ***

  In the face of her longstanding issues with heights, Fanny was cheerful at the prospect of a picturesque helicopter tour overlooking the County on what promised to be a magnificent day. She stood waiting at the helipad at the appointed hour, her mind's eye conjuring a winding stroll through the grapevines with the owner as her guide, their rambling book discussion, and the al fresco lunch with a toast to the harvest overlooking his beautiful grounds. As Katherine's friends peppered the pilot with questions, her father - whose vertigo she knew had worsened with age - stood stiffly by her side attempting a brave face, though she considered his constant forehead mopping and flaccid smile a dismal effort to register calm.

  "Where's Jack," she asked Katherine.

  "He and Sam decided at the last minute to stay behind. He's hoping to take Bimsy for a stroll through the apple orchard. And the helicopter seats six. Spectacularly poor planning on my part."

  "Oh for God's sake, let him have my seat," her father insisted, ever the willing victim.

  "Jack is determined to stay with the horses," Katherine replied.

  Fanny stared stone-faced at the helicopter, biting the inside of her mouth.

  After they were boarded and seated with headsets on, the helicopter ascended vertically from the ground in a gentle hover and Fanny looked around, scanning the property. Her heart leapt as Jack appeared from the barn door to wave them off. Moments later Sam emerged by his side and the helicopter picked up speed and soared into the air. A perverse impulse made her turn to look down again at the barn just as Sam threw her arms around Jack and he caught her in an embrace. She averted her eyes, overcome by the sudden achy heaviness in her chest.

  She exchanged a fleeting miserable look with her father who was seated up front, shoulder to shoulder with the pilot. He reached back, grasped her hand and held it tight. A little too tight, she thought, and she looked up again to catch his expression; his other hand was pressed against his chest, and he winced as he drew the air through his nostrils.

  "What's the matter, Dad?"

  "Indigestion," he croaked into his mouthpiece. "The scones."

  "Are you sure it's my scones? You look grey."

  "It'll pass. Always does."

  Fanny judged him a tad breezy for a man slumped over in pain. Katherine had already leant forward from her seat and was rubbing his back.

  "You're winded, Robert, and you do look unwell. We should turn back."

  Fanny registered the flash of alarm Katherine swapped with the pilot. She realized her father looked beyond unwell - he looked a wreck - but she held her tongue when she glimpsed the panic spread over Katherine's face; it was her call.

  "Nonsense," her father said, between mouthfuls of air. "Just my vertigo acting up. I took my meds... earlier... let's not over think this thing. Not to worry Katherine."

  "Why wouldn't I worry? Of course I'm worried for you!" Katherine exclaimed, losing it, and revealing a crack in her usual composure.

  Fanny's eyes darted from Katherine to her father and then to the pilot who was talking inaudibly into his radio. Her father put his finger in the air and grasped Katherine's arm with his free hand.

  "It's a bloody nuisance," he blurted out as he gasped for air.

  Help arrived, and not a moment too soon, when a voice of reason and calm came over their headsets and settled
the matter. "I've just received permission to land at the Norman Rogers Airport in Kingston," their pilot informed them. "An ambulance will be waiting to take you to the hospital, sir. We're going to get you the treatment you need."

  12

  Fanny spent the following two days in a blur of panicked commotion, offset by crushing inactivity. Her father was treated by paramedics for symptoms of a heart attack and transported directly to the cardiac unit at the hospital where he underwent an angioplasty and was released after forty-eight hours. His recuperation was remarkable, and it was generally agreed that Kingston was an ideal place to have a heart attack. She had a vague recollection of Jack appearing in the waiting area with their belongings and refreshments and a formal embrace, released too quickly. She hadn't seen him since.

  Upon his release, Katherine and her father and she stayed a short distance from the hospital at Katherine's condo at the foot of Gore Street, which provided ample breathing room. In recent months, Katherine had been granted permission to purchase the adjoining condo on the penthouse floor and had created a cheery space with room to spare and a view of the lake. It was here they sat the following week, sipping herbal tea.

  "I'm tip top. And now that the plumbing's been fixed, I feel like someone pressed the reset button - gave me a bonus round," her father was saying. "Katherine and I have discussed it, and I'm going to have to retire. We want to spend more time together." He grabbed Katherine's hand, overcome by it all, and fixed his eyes on the floor.

  "I think that's fantastic," Fanny said, meeting Katherine's gaze. "I'm so pleased. For both of you."

  "I've also realized it's time to cut back my own involvement at the Foundation," Katherine said, adding, "your father and I are keen to do some travelling - Africa beckons - and Fanny, there's something I'd like to talk to you about. I have a proposal."

  She began by praising her research on the Safari which had given her pause and inspiration. She told her how Jack had divulged to her some time ago their involvement with Erasto, what a quick study he deemed her to be on the homeless dilemma, how touched he was by her sensitivity to social issues. She needed a backroom coordinator for the Foundation, she told Fanny, someone to identify needs, a strategic planner to help organize and attend to the minutiae, so she could spend less time behind the lines and focus on building its profile in Toronto. She needed someone she could trust.

  "You'd have to meet with some individual stakeholders in the city occasionally, so it's a Toronto based position. You'd telecommute. But. There would be matters that could bring you to Kingston from time to time. The cardiac unit, for instance, deserves our attention."

  Fanny looked at her father with interest, but he was giving nothing away.

  "It would appeal to your city mouse and your country mouse," he offered, all too casually. "But yours to decide."

  "I am so flattered, Katherine," Fanny said. “There's a lot to think about. Did you happen to float this idea past Jack?"

  "I spoke with him last night. He assured me if I hadn't come up with the idea on my own, he would have suggested it himself. He said the trick is to leave you to your own devices, so you can work your magic behind the scenes."

  "I do work well independently," Fanny said, swelling slightly. It was a point of pride.

  They were interrupted by the telephone which Katherine was quick to intercept.

  "Oh hello," she said at the top of her voice. "Yes it is. I'm very well, thank you. Yes, yes he is. He's right beside me."

  Fanny watched as Katherine passed the phone to her father, nearly dropping it in her haste, and then turned away wordlessly, directing her gaze at the window and the sailboats below.

  "Hello," her father said, cocking an eyebrow. "Well, hello! Yes...yes. Sorry the line is- . You're what? That's fan- . No, no, your timing couldn't be better. Tip top. Oh blast. The connection's gone," he griped. Even so he was beaming. "That was your brother. He's coming home. Great news, that. My, oh my. And somehow he was able to track down Katherine's number, all the way from Kathmandu. Imagine that." He aimed a canny grin at Katherine and emitted a small whoop of pleasure, then made his way to the window where she stood smiling serenely at the lake.

  ***

  Naturally Fanny accepted Katherine's offer. She couldn't wait to get started, to prove her mettle; she was set to become one of those women who waken galvanized to go to their jobs. The first order of business was to return to her apartment and arrange her home office, to assemble her committee of one. Katherine sent her back to Toronto with files for her review and a care package, for Jack, who unbeknownst to her had purchased a house just south of her own building on Oriole Parkway some months back. Sadly, Mr. Bimsy had passed on recently, and though not entirely unexpected, Jack's spirits were said to be low, and a request for chocolate fancies had been issued.

  On the morning after her return, a Sunday, Fanny rose early, showered and pulled on one of her father's shirts over her favourite jeans, adding one of her new Liberty's scarves, after some deliberation. She skipped breakfast, walked the few blocks to Jack's house and stood on the sidewalk outside wondering why such a man would splash out on lavish digs when he granted himself so little time to enjoy it. It galled her to think he might have done it to please another, that Sam had cracked the whip. To add to her unease, her phone had up and died of exhaustion after an unnaturally long life, so she was arriving unannounced, the danger being that he was indisposed or worse - but she was resolved to get it over with.

  Jack answered the door with hair glistening from the shower and smelling of soap. His t-shirt clung to his skin and he was unshaven. He pulled his hand through his hair, and she glimpsed the still damp skin stretched taut across the muscle of his arm.

  "Uh, hello," she said.

  "Good morning." He looked at her in unblinking perplexity for a few seconds before a wry smile crept over his mouth.

  "Katherine told me you lived just down the street. I didn't know," she said.

  "You didn't ask. Come in." He led her down the hall past a winding staircase and into a great room which overlooked a lush, well-treed backyard. If he'd already moved in, it wasn't immediately obvious from the stacks of books and large cushions scattered about the floor, the lack of furnishings, and the lack of any trace of Sam; it had good bones but certainly wouldn't qualify for love shack of the year, at least not in its current state.

  "Your house is really lovely," she said. "Is that an apple tree out there?"

  "Yes, it sealed the deal, that tree."

  "I brought you chocolate fancies from Kingston."

  "Yes I see, and thank you. I sent Aunt Katherine strict instructions to use you as her mule. I knew you wouldn't let her down."

  "There's a tray of molasses cookies here too. A sort of welcome to the neighbourhood."

  "That's very thoughtful." His gaze softened. "How's your father?"

  "Never better. Tip top. It's bizarre. But wonderful, obviously."

  "Good."

  "I'm so sorry about Mr. Bimsy. Katherine only told me yesterday. I didn't know he was unwell. I was so preoccupied with my father and now my new job. And thank you - for the plug with Katherine."

  "You were always the front-runner. And your new office is an easy commute from here."

  Her head flinched back, as she considered his words. "Oh... oh yes. When Katherine is in town, you mean. I see now."

  "I wasn't able to see you during those difficult first days at the hospital... as much as I would have liked. Sam was quite broken up over Bimsy."

  "Of course. You're very close, you said."

  "It's not what you think. I've known her since she was quite small. She's only ever been like a sister to me. A frequently irritating, meddlesome little sister. Nonetheless, family."

  "Family? But... but why did you buy this enormous house?"

  "Well, it's really quite nice and spacious, as you say, and there's the apple tree... And I've always wanted to adopt a cat - they're particular about their space - though I'll nee
d some upholstered furniture for claw sharpening purposes and so on. I want to slow down at work too. I've been hoping to concentrate on expanding my family, you see." He was moving toward her gradually as he spoke. "I wasn't actively looking for someone and then... "

  "And then?"

  "Say, this scarf looks familiar."

  "It's from her London days... "

  He was touching her scarf, examining it, untying it and ignoring it, as it fell to the floor. His hand slid over her bare skin as he leant down; his lips skimmed across her shoulder, lingering on the hollow between her collar bones, then her neck, and finally her lips. He kissed her tenderly at first and then, insistently, wrapping his arms around her.

  She pulled back a little, aflame in his embrace, her heart wild with a mixture of surprise and desire, electrified. "I thought... There were times I was convinced," she said, catching her breath, "you couldn't stand me."

  "I'm afraid I've been suffering from the opposite problem." He pulled her to him, kissing her hungrily. Before long his hand was moving along her shirt, unfastening, and a button popped off and rolled out of sight. "Don't worry," he murmured, "I think I can find a suitable replacement in my closet."

  "Oh, where would that be?"

  "Come this way, Ms. Bower," he said, grasping her hand.

  ***

  Later, after a luxurious expanse of time during which clocks were duly snubbed, they lay entwined together, lolling, spent, as though there was no such thing as hurry in the world.

  Fanny turned to him and said, "I feel like maybe you've done that before," and narrowed her eyes.

  "Muscle memory," he growled and buried his head into her neck.

  "Why me? Why now?" she said, lowering her head to study him.

  "I wanted you at the top of your game. Out of the forest." She rolled her eyes and he continued. "Look Fanny, when I first met you... you were so gorgeous and unusual. But you were an employee, remember. I was smitten from the moment you poured wine all over my shoes at that reception. I couldn't do anything about it while you were still on staff, but it didn't stop me from longing for you; I was having a tough time staying away. You didn't make it easy. And it wasn't your beguiling quirkiness as much as your depth of character I wanted to explore... among other things."