by Gail Cleare
I looked at him dubiously. “You, cook? Are you sure of that?”
“You shouldn’t underestimate me,” he laughed, shaking his head.
“I’m beginning to get that message!”
“I told you before what a wonderful person I am, Emily!” he said. “And, I am a pretty good cook, too. I have taken care of myself in some relatively rustic situations, you know,” he finished, more seriously.
“Well, I do have a stove, so we won’t be needing you to cook over an open fire or anything,” I teased, batting my eyelashes at him.
“Leave it to me,” he said happily. “I’ll be right back.”
He sprang up the front stairs and disappeared from view. Curious, I hurried over to peak around the corner just in time to see a door on the left side of the upstairs landing swing shut. I caught a quick glimpse of stairs leading up to the third floor, which I had still never visited. I was intrigued to see the rooms, but this was obviously not the time. I went up to tell Henry that I was leaving and give him my notes. He still sat at the computer, and I came to stand behind him.
“Very efficient,” he complimented me, scanning the lined yellow pages with his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. “I believe you’ve covered everything. And don’t you worry, we won’t forget to feed Amy. If she’ll dare to come inside while you aren’t here, that is.”
“I’m sure Siri can tempt her,” I said. “She has a way with children, you know.”
I put my hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you for letting me go so unexpectedly. I know this is a lot of trouble for all of you, and I appreciate it.”
The old man beamed at me, patting my hand. “Always glad to help, Emily. You’ve been a stalwart ally, my dear, happy to return the favor!”
“Are we the three Musketeers then, Henry?” came Tony’s voice as he entered the room, dressed now in his jeans and leather jacket.
Mr. Paradis looked startled for a moment, but then he smiled nostalgically, with a fond glance at Tony. “Remember when we were the three Musketeers once before?”
Tony nodded. “I do remember, Henry. It was an adventure, wasn’t it?”
The old man nodded. He looked up at me. “You would have enjoyed it, my dear. And so did Margaret. I do think she would have approved of Emily, don’t you Tony?”
“Most definitely,” the younger man agreed. “Cut from the same piece of cloth.”
“That’s a compliment, dear,” Henry whispered to me.
“Can you get along OK by yourself for dinner tonight?” Tony asked him. “I’m going to help Emily pack.”
Henry squinted a skeptical glance his way, but told us he’d be glad to have a chance for a nice long nap. He did look tired. I offered to get him a pizza from across the street before I left for the day, but he declined, saying he preferred to rummage around downstairs and see what was in the fridge.
We locked up on our way out the back and Tony drove me home. He dropped me off and immediately left again to go and buy groceries, refusing to tell me what was on the menu and apparently quite excited to be cooking. I got out my suitcase, put it on the bed and opened the closet door to stare inside, thanking the gods of fashion for the current popularity of black, even in the summer. It goes with everything, looks formal even when it isn’t, and doesn’t show dirt. The perfect color for someone who can’t afford a different outfit for every occasion, like me. I had several black skirts, pants and even a linen jacket. I decided to bring one of each, with a few silk shirts to go under the jacket. I had a decent navy blue sundress to wear on the way over tomorrow, too. I got out my ironing board and plugged in the steam iron.
Half an hour or so later, Tony was back with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine. My freshly ironed clothes were hanging all around the apartment on hangers, as I stood barefoot in front of the ironing board working on one last extra pair of black capris. He put a CD on my stereo and started banging pots and pans around in the kitchen. I recognized the same music he’d been playing in the car the night we drove to Vermont. He brought me a glass of wine and we toasted.
“To our first dinner at home together,” he said.
“I can’t afford to get food poisoning tonight, Tony,” I cautioned.
He pouted and we clinked glasses.
“To the three Musketeers?” I suggested.
“Salut!” he agreed, and we drank.
While I carefully folded and packed my clothes, he chopped and pounded and clanked and sizzled and flipped things in the kitchen, until a wonderful aroma of garlic and onions and something else delicious wafted around the partition and told me that he just might know what he was doing in there, after all. I heard the oven door screech open and shut, and a few minutes later I smelled something baking. The noises subsided, and eventually he came back around the corner into the main room.
I was just finishing up, so we sat down together on the couch.
“So,” I said, leaning back against the cushions. “What were you doing in Boston? Importing and exporting?”
Tony reached down and pulled my legs up, swinging me around so I was turned sideways on the couch, my head on the pillows and my bare feet resting in his lap. He started to massage my foot, immediately finding the sore spot at the base of my second toe and rubbing it in little circles. Flashes of sensation jolted up my leg.
“I was in Boston for a job interview.”
“You? You’re getting a job? In Boston?” I was dismayed.
“No, the interview was in Boston. The job is here. And they haven’t offered it to me yet, so don’t get so excited!” He laughed at me and bore down, working his thumbs toward my heel. I squirmed, but didn’t pull away. It was exquisite agony.
“What’s the job?” I asked, wondering why he would want to give up his independence, since he obviously didn’t need the money.
“Teaching, at the University,” he said. “Something I‘ve thought about before.”
“International business?” I asked.
He nodded. “What do you think?” he asked.
He started to massage my other foot. His hands were very warm.
“I think you’d be great at it.” I knew immediately this was true. “The kids would love to hear about your adventures. You would be their hero, a kind of Johnny Depp of the global economy.”
“Emily, I am not a pirate, I am a legitimate businessman!”
“Yes, I know, but you are rather…swashbuckling.”
He considered that word for a minute, and seemed to like it. The foot massage started to creep up my ankle.
“Be that as it may,” he said, “The Powers That Be want to consider my professional credentials and take a look at some other candidates. I had a very good recommendation, though, from an old friend of mine who teaches there.”
“If they offer it, what will you say?”
He stopped rubbing my leg and looked at me appraisingly. “I believe I would say yes, I’ll sign on for a two-year contract and we’ll all see how it goes. How does that sound?”
We stared at each other. I couldn’t think what to say. I loved the idea of him being settled around here for a while, but I hesitated to be so bold as to advise him what to do.
“It sounds adventurous, yet sensible,” I replied.
“Well, that’s me in a nutshell,” he replied, “Don’t you think?”
He grinned at me, teasingly.
“Sensible?” I challenged him.
“About most things. When it’s not one of my obsessions. Like, you, for example.”
Suddenly he was lying on top of me on the couch, one elbow on either side of my chest. He kissed me slowly, deeply, and extremely thoroughly. I snuggled down into the pillows and put my arms around his neck, settling in for the duration. After a few minutes, a strange beeping noise started to go off somewhere nearby. At first we both ignored it. Then he nibbled on my ear lobe and whispered, “Your dinner awaits!”
I pulled back my head and demanded, “What is that annoyi
ng noise?”
“My alarm watch,” he said, turning it off and sitting up. “Come on, then!”
He stood up and reached down for me, giving me a hand up. We went into the kitchen, where he had set the little table by the window. A single red rose in a bud vase stood between two white votive candles, already lit. I sat at the table while he served me chicken and wild mushrooms in a light tomato sauce, over whole wheat fettucine, with hot garlic bread and a Caesar salad with toasted pignoli nuts. Everything was spectacular, and I told him so in no uncertain terms.
Tree came in the window, back from a jaunt around the yard. He sat on the windowsill next to the rosemary plant and watched us eat, obviously fascinated.
“Don’t worry old boy,” Tony said, scratching him behind the ear. “You’ll get some soon.”
“I don’t feed him scraps,” I said.
“Never? That is so cold, Emily.” Tony shivered dramatically.
“Oh, all right. But it just encourages him to beg.”
“That is very true. When you give a man a taste of something delicious, he will undoubtedly be encouraged to beg for more.”
“And a woman might feel the same way, for that matter,” I countered, pushing my empty plate away.
“Oh really?”
“Shall I beg now, or later?” I asked. “And I’m not talking about food!”
His face flushed, and he took my hand to kiss it one finger at a time.
“Did I ever tell you,” he asked, “That you are the most adorable, sweet, funny, wonderful, beautiful woman in the world?”
“No,” I said, “You must have forgotten to mention it.”
“Well then, I’m telling you now.”
“Tony?”
“Yes, darling?”
“You’d better watch out, or I’m going to start believing all this nonsense.”
“I hope so, Em. I want you to believe it.”
“You do? Really?”
“Yes, I very sincerely do. If we both believe in it, then it will be real, won’t it?”
“Tony, I have to tell you, I’m not interested in casual sex. I just can’t handle it,” I said bluntly. “I’d rather be alone and concentrate on working all the time.”
“Believe me, I understand,” he said solemnly. “I’m not trying to seduce you, Emily. Not the way you think.”
He looked at me with an inscrutable expression for a minute, then stood up from the table. He smoothed his hair back with his hand, nervously.
“I think I’d better be going now,” he said in a gruff voice. “I think…I hope you have a safe trip, and the funeral isn’t too difficult.”
He put down his napkin and turned to leave the kitchen as I stood up and ran after him, grabbing his arm.
“Wait!” I cried. “Don’t just leave like that! Did I say the wrong thing?”
He stopped and turned back to put his arms around me again.
“Silly girl,” he mumbled into my hair. “You always say exactly the right thing. ”
“Then why are you leaving?”
He stepped back and composed himself, taking his jacket off the coat rack next to the door and putting it on. I stood and watched him, wondering if I had somehow ruined everything. Just when we had finally started to talk openly with each other.
“Because I make it a point never to fall in love on the third date, Emily,” he said, with a sardonic smile. “It’s just too impetuous. I always wait until, oh, at least the fourth time I have dinner with someone.”
So, we were back to the safe banter. When in doubt, rely on humor. Well, two could play at that game.
“So, we’ll wait ’til next time for that, right?” I said, trying to be funny, but it fell a little bit flat.
He nodded and bowed, looking uncomfortable. His eyes were anxious, appraising my reaction. I decided to let him off the hook, for now.
“Here,” I said, taking the spare key to my apartment off the rack on the kitchen wall. I handed it to him. “Now you have the key to my apartment. Watch out, people may talk!” I grinned at him playfully, but he did not respond in kind.
“I’ll take good care of Tree,” he said. “And, Henry too.”
“I know you will. Thank you.”
“You need to call me. You need to call and tell me when you’re coming home, as soon as you know,” he said intensely, insistently. He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips one more time, carefully avoiding contact with the rest of my body. Then he tucked my key into his wallet and put it in his back pocket, opening the door to step out onto the landing. He stood there for a moment, just outside the threshold, looking at me with a fierce, wary expression. Then he pulled the door shut and was gone.
When I lay in bed that night under the swelling moon that sailed in a sea of stars above my skylight, I reflected on how much things had changed since the night before. Lexi and I had transformed from enemies to friends. Lexi’s poor sister had transitioned from life into death. Tony and I had progressed from a promising flirtation to…what? Something that might be much more serious, I thought.
It was probably a good thing I was going to be out of town for a few days, to give us both a chance to cool down. Because cool was not exactly how I had been feeling around the man. In fact, I thought, restlessly tossing and turning in bed, I would have gladly gone way too far with him right there on the couch if his damned watch had not gone off. Oh my god, yes. I drifted off to sleep, a little smile on my lips.
The yellow moon was smudged by a thin streak of glowing clouds overhead, and I floated beneath it on my soft bed, rocking along on the gentle waves off the coast, and then rising up in the air to hover above a dark mysterious island. Not a single light was on in any of the houses and no cars were driving on the roads. The place looked deserted, or asleep. It looked wild and magical.
I floated toward the center of the island, where a pillar of white smoke was rising up into the dark sky. As I neared it, I heard drums and singing, tambourines and bells. My flying bed settled down on the ground next to a bonfire on a broad hilltop. The fire was surrounded by a circle of amazing creatures of many kinds, dancing and frolicking. There were fawns, centaurs, sylphs and dryads, little fairies with semi-transparent sparkling wings, and even a unicorn. They were beautiful and rare, amazing.
I ran to join the circle, and glimpsed others dancing whom I had not seen at first. Siri was there with her husband and her children, as were Bella and her family, plus Laurie and John. Both of my parents were there as well, and Henry and Margaret, young and spry, dancing with the others as we all joined hands. I turned to my left and saw I held the paw of a large white cat in my hand. I looked to the right and saw that Tony had appeared and taken my hand in his. We all started to dance in a clockwise direction, circling round and round the bonfire, which roared into the sky. We chanted and sang. It was an exhilarating romp, but finally I began to tire.
“Please,” I begged, panting, “I need to stop. I have to drive Lexi. I can’t be late!”
But the circle spun round and round, spiraling off as I finally broke loose and was flung far out into space, eventually catching my foot on the moon and tripping to fall down, down, down. When I woke up very early in the morning, the sheets had twisted around me tightly and sweat was dripping from my body.
I showered and dressed, watering my plants and making sure to leave the apartment spotless. Then I headed off to learn how the very rich deal with it when one of their own dies so young, so tragically.
Temperance
SYNTHESIS, MODERATION
Description: A woman pours something from one chalice into another. She is blending two fluids, two extremes.
Meaning: Synthesis or moderation. A tempering of opposites. Softening the extremes through either collaboration or compromise.
Four days later, I dropped Lexi off at her house before heading straight over to work. Lexi and I had caught a flight back to Hyannis in her cousin’s private plane very early today. It was raining a little when we hit the Ma
ss. Pike and drove west around six in the morning, and we encountered very little traffic until we got almost to Springfield.
We parked in the driveway in front of the striking four bedroom contemporary home that Lexi owned, set on two landscaped acres in the nicest residential area in town. I got out with her, to help with the luggage. While each of us had started the trip with just one suitcase, we had both somehow acquired numerous bags and bundles along the way. (There were actually two shopping trips into the little retail district on the Island, I confess.) I opened the trunk and we divided up the contents. Then I helped carry everything of hers inside. When she finally stood in the foyer, her packages scattered on the floor around her, she turned to face me and delivered her most charming smile.
“I don’t know how to thank you enough,” Lexi said, very seriously and sincerely. She took both of my hands in hers and kissed me on the cheek affectionately. No more air-kisses, the real thing. “I’m sorry my family is so weird,” she added with a grimace.
“Lexi, everybody’s family is weird.”
“True, very true.”
“And your parents were absolutely wonderful to me, and I love your cousins. Anyhow. It was a very interesting field trip. I don’t get out of town much, you know,” I said lightly as I turned to go.
Lexi stood in the open doorway watching me walk down the path to the parking area. Everything looked clean and refreshed after the rain. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, the flowers were blooming and she was beautiful and blonde and golden all over. She was smiling. All was well in Lexi Land today.
“My work is done, Grasshopper!” I muttered to myself as I got into the car.
“See you at the next DBA meeting!” she called, waving.
Funny how that didn’t seem to worry me at all anymore.
“OK, save me a seat if you get there first!” I called, waving back. I turned the car around to go out of the long driveway, admiring a huge bed of pink day lilies. Lexi’s world was certainly a lovely place, I had to admit.
