Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love that in your will,
Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.
~ W. Shakespeare
I miss you, Aubrey. I really do watch the clock for you, wishing away the hours until I’m able to see you again and dreaming of the day when we can be together.
~D
xoxoxo…
I refolded the paper, pressing it to my lips. How was it possible for someone to be so thoughtful and so capable of turning me into a quivering blob of jelly? One thing was for certain: If the next fifty-seven days didn’t kill me, the rapture of finally achieving long-delayed gratification in the days and nights that followed very well might.
I packed up my books. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate after that steamy exchange? When my phone vibrated in my pocket as I was making my way down the stairs, I smiled, wondering if Daniel was hoping for a second round of dirty texting. But no, this time he was actually calling.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” he said. “I’m so sorry about all that. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I should think so. I’ve had to pack in my studying. I’m heading home to take a cold shower. Thanks a lot.” I laughed.
He didn’t laugh with me. “No, that was really inappropriate of me. Can you please delete that conversation?”
“Seriously? I’m not going to show anyone. Don’t worry.”
“Please? I’d feel a lot better if you’d erase it.”
“Well, okay. If it’ll make you feel better.”
I heard him take a deep breath—presumably a sigh of relief.
“Thank you. So, will I see you at the memorial on Friday?” he asked.
“Of course. I’ll go straight after work.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you then, poppet.”
“Sounds good. I’ll miss you tomorrow.”
“I’ll miss you too. See you Friday.”
I hung up reluctantly, standing at the bottom of the stairs and taking a moment to reread our exchange. He was being paranoid, but I indulged him, deleting the entire conversation. I supposed he was right. If my phone were to fall into the wrong hands, the consequences could be disastrous. TAs were most likely strongly discouraged from sexting with the students in their classes. This was a most unfortunate rule; Daniel had such a way with words.
Chapter 18
One Thread
…all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail
Are turned to one thread, one little hair;
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by…
(King John, Act V, Scene 7)
IN THE WAKE OF THE SEXTING DEBACLE of Wednesday, I assumed I’d never hear from Daniel via text again. But after a full day of radio silence, he sent me a message which I retrieved at work on Friday morning.
Miss Price – Sorry my prior commitments made it
impossible for us to get together on Wednesday to
discuss your independent study. Perhaps we should try to meet after today’s memorial instead? Talk soon. Daniel.
Daniel was couching his apologies and his hopes in an academic context, but the talk of my independent study had to be a pretense. Sure there were other possible reasons for his coolness, but I quickly cast those aside, sticking with my initial interpretation.
I tidied up the desk, left a few notes for Gisele, and then I sat down to reread the note I hoped to give Daniel today. It was payback of sorts for the lovely note he’d given me on Wednesday.
Daniel,
I don’t know if you’re familiar with Sarah Waters, but I’ve been reading her book The Night Watch. I came across the most beautiful passage yesterday, in which one character expresses her connection to someone by describing a thread that runs between them and tugs at her heart whenever they’re apart.
This metaphor captures perfectly the way I feel. I miss you when we’re not together, but I sense somehow that we’re connected. I hope you feel the same.
~Your Poppet
xo
I tucked the note into the side pocket of my purse, dreading the walk to St. Basil’s church in my heels, but looking forward to seeing Daniel despite the sadness of the upcoming event.
After locking up for the lunch hour, I made my way straight to the church. Julie had promised to save me a seat, but if the service was underway by the time I arrived, I’d have to stay at the back. My concerns were alleviated as soon as I saw the steady stream of people filtering into the church. Relieved that I wasn’t late, I waited my turn to enter and then scanned the pews, looking for Julie.
When I spotted her, my eye was immediately drawn to the person she was talking to. Daniel. He was standing in the aisle, dressed to the nines in a dark blue suit, his hand in his pocket as he and Julie chatted. I took a deep breath to steel myself before making my way toward them.
Daniel in a suit and tie. Not a big deal. Yes, he’s handsome, and yes, he watches the clock for you and sends you dirty text messages, and when he says your name, it sounds like half a sigh and half a promise, but none of that is important right now.
In other words, remember why you’re here.
Julie slipped into the pew just as Daniel looked up and saw me approaching. His smile was subtle, but the warmth in his eyes was enough to put my mind at rest. He was as glad to see me as I was to see him, regardless of the unpleasant circumstances.
“We were starting to worry that my father might have kept you late at work,” Daniel said, gesturing to Julie who was slipping off her coat and getting comfortable.
“Not at all. Terrible walking shoes, that’s all.”
“Aubrey, come sit,” Julie said, patting the bench beside her.
I squeezed into the pew, scanning the rows behind us as I removed my coat.
I waved at Shawn and Vince who were sitting a few rows back. Cara and Lindsay were beside them. I held my hand up to greet them as well, but Cara glared at me. Okay, then. I settled into my spot and draped my coat across my lap.
“Great turnout,” Daniel said.
“It really is. Not surprising. She was a sweetie,” Julie said.
“So, Miss Harper said I could sit here with you,” Daniel said, motioning to the sliver of bench beside me. “Do you mind if I squeeze in?”
Mind? Ha!
“Of course not,” I said. I shifted down to make room for him, although the closer I could be to him, the better.
At the front of the church, a man moved to stand behind the podium, asking everyone to take their seats. I braced myself for what was to come and heard Julie sighing mournfully beside me. Daniel’s hand was resting on the bench between us. I casually placed my hand beside his, my coat hiding both of our hands. He reached out to hook his little finger over mine, and I clasped it tightly, trying not to sigh too loudly.
The man at the podium introduced himself as Mary’s Uncle Bernard.
“Hey, that must be Banquo-head-wound Uncle Bernard,” I whispered to Daniel. “The one who fell in the woodpile at Thanksgiving.”
“I think you’re right,” he whispered back.
How awful. Somehow knowing these little bits of Mary’s history increased the pity I felt for her family tenfold. Bernard’s role was apparently to introduce the various speakers and the friends of Mary who were reading poems and eulogies. The service was beautiful, the readings emotional and very touching. When her two sisters got up to speak, I squeezed my eyes shut, grateful for the nose-blowing going on around us. I blended in with the snifflers.
&
nbsp; From time to time, Daniel’s finger would tighten around mine and I would squeeze back, the slight touch enough to console me, though I’d have been even happier if I could have rested my head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around me comfortingly.
After a particularly emotional performance of Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep sung by Mary’s cousin and the St. Mike’s choir, there was no way I could keep the tears in check. I reluctantly let go of Daniel’s finger, reaching into my purse for a tissue and retrieving the folded note at the same time, surreptitiously placing it under Daniel’s palm. He curled his hand around it and placed the slip of paper in his jacket pocket, waiting for me to finish dabbing at my eyes and my nose with Kleenex and then slipping his finger around mine once more beneath the cover of my coat.
At the front of the church, Bernard wrapped up the service, thanking everyone for coming and making several announcements, one of which was an invitation to a Mothers Against Drunk Driving fundraiser taking place at Brennan Hall the next evening. It was to be a “dry” event, with local bands performing. With the conclusion of this last announcement, the service ended and people began to stand, some hugging their companions, others collecting their belongings, their heads down as they contemplated the terrible reality that Mary was truly gone.
“Lovely service,” Daniel said. He gave my finger one last gentle squeeze before reclaiming his hand.
“But so sad,” Julie said, blowing her nose soundly.
“Very sad,” Daniel said. “She’ll be missed.” He gestured to the group of professors making their way down the center aisle toward Mary’s family and stood up, re-buttoning his suit jacket. “I suppose I should join Professor Brown and offer my condolences to the Langfords. Thanks for letting me sit with you.”
“No probs,” Julie said.
I nodded my agreement. “Julie and I will leave you to it.” I gazed at him wistfully, and he gave me an equally plaintive look. Around us, people were moving to the door. Lingering unnecessarily would seem odd.
We said our goodbyes, and Daniel took his place at the end of the line-up at the front of the church. He turned to sneak another look at me and then slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out the note I’d given him and dropping his eyes to scan it.
I knew I should move. I had to. People were waiting to get out into the aisle and I was in their way, but I couldn’t seem to make my legs cooperate. Daniel turned around again and our eyes locked, the truth behind the passage I’d described in the note playing itself out right there before me. It was as if we were attached by an invisible current, dangerously compelling us to move toward each other.
Julie nudged me, bringing me back to my senses. “Aub, are you okay?” she asked. She followed the line of my gaze, and when her eyes reached the spot where Daniel was standing, a confused look crossed her face.
Oh, shit.
I moved out into the aisle, quickly sliding the strap of my purse up my arm, looking briefly back at Julie before saying, “Of course I’m fine.”
She grabbed my elbow to slow me. “What the hell’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” I said, aiming for nonchalance.
“What do you mean, what do I mean?” Julie said. “I saw the way you and Daniel were looking at each other! You, I get. You’ve been mooning over him like that for weeks. Hell, so have I! But did you see the way he was looking back at you? Jesus H. Christ, do you think he’s got a thing for you?” she asked, quiet awe in her voice.
“I don’t think you should be using the Lord’s name in vain right now, Julie, or giving him a middle initial. This is a house of worship.” We moved toward the door.
“Very funny. Aubrey, I’m serious.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was a touching service…he was probably feeling a little emotional and happened to look at me at that moment. No biggie.”
She looked at me skeptically. “I don’t know…”
“Julie, do you realize how crazy you sound? He’s not the slightest bit interested in me, at least not the way you’re suggesting.”
“I guess,” she said. She still wasn’t convinced, but thankfully she dropped the subject. We were almost out the door now, stuck behind a bottleneck of people attempting to get outside. “So do you want to grab lunch or something?” she asked.
“I wish I could,” I said, which was a bald-faced lie. “I’ve already made plans for the afternoon.” While this was sort of true, I didn’t have the first clue what these actual plans were. All I knew was that somehow they involved Daniel.
As the crowd carried us out into the afternoon sunshine, I contemplated hanging back for a bit, wondering if Daniel expected me to wait outside, but I didn’t know how to subtly dawdle without arousing Julie’s suspicions. Luckily, before we’d moved too far down the sidewalk, Daniel solved the problem for me, emerging hurriedly from a cluster of people.
“Hey, mind if I walk back to Vic with you, ladies?” he asked. He sounded a little winded.
“Fine with me,” I said, all calm, cool, and collected, the complete opposite of the way I was feeling. I smiled to myself, cheered by the thought of him running to catch up with us.
“What a great family. I can’t imagine what the Langfords must be going through,” he said, shaking his head as he fell in step beside us.
“Oh, I know,” Julie said. “When you know someone who’s been touched personally by drunk driving it hits home, you know?”
“Yes, I know,” he said. “Speaking of which, are you planning to attend the MADD fundraiser tomorrow night? It’s a worthy cause and a perfect way to honor Mary’s memory.” He was looking at me pointedly. I was almost afraid to speak, sure I’d inevitably reveal something.
“Are you going?” I asked him.
“I expect so. I’d like to show my support.”
“What do you think, Jul? You into it?” I asked her.
“Um, sure. I don’t have much going on tomorrow.”
I refrained from doing an excited jig. Passing through St. Mike’s quad, Daniel walked beside me, occasionally brushing his hand against mine. The brief touches were subtle enough that Julie wouldn’t notice, but their subtlety didn’t prevent me from experiencing a surge of pleasure with every trace of contact. At the paths to Vic, he stopped and gestured toward Avenue Road.
“I need to go this way to pick up my car,” he explained. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night at the benefit? Maybe we could sit together—if that’s not too weird.”
“I don’t think that would be weird,” Julie said, looking at me with a slight flick of her eyebrow. “What do you think, Aubrey?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Then, I’ll see you there,” he said. “Have a good afternoon.”
He glanced at me quickly before turning to head off toward the main road. I waved but avoided watching him walk away—no easy task.
“He’s in better spirits these days,” Julie said. “Maybe Mr. Shmexy just needed a vacation. Gosh, I can’t believe we have a date with him tomorrow. I wonder if he’s got a thing for threesomes.”
“Yeah, that’s probably it, Jul. MADD fundraisers are notoriously kinky events.”
She laughed and hugged me, and then we parted ways. I sighed, rattled but relieved that she hadn’t pursued her suspicions. Daniel and I needed to be more careful. A mere five days in, and things were already getting sketchy.
I stared out at the road for a moment, not sure what I was supposed to do. Assuming Daniel would contact me to clarify what he’d had in mind for the afternoon, I turned and started making my way back to Jackman Hall. As I passed through the quad, it occurred to me that everything at Vic had taken on new significance. The maple tree, the bench in front of the library, the gatehouse—memories of the small romantic moments Daniel and I had exchanged over the past few days permeated everything.
I was passing through the gatehouse, revisiting that fabulous hug we’d shared, when my phone vibrated in my purse. I stopped t
o dig it out of my bag, my heart galloping as I answered.
“Daniel, where are you?”
“I take it you’re alone? Are you home yet?”
“Not exactly.” I laughed. “I guess you could say I’m stuck in memory lane.”
“I’m almost at the Four Seasons, just north of Bloor. I parked my car in their underground garage. Can you swing by?”
Could I swing by? Would my feet make it all the way to the corner of Bloor and Avenue? Hell, I’d crawl if I had to!
“I can be there in ten minutes.”
“Perfect. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”
I hurried up Avenue Road as best I could. Crossing Bloor Street, I peered up at the Four Seasons. I’d never seen the inside of the hotel. Yet another place representing how the other half lived. Daniel was apparently a lifetime member of this other half. I experienced a twinge of self-doubt as I contemplated how different our backgrounds were, but I quickly squashed it. Daniel wanted to spend time with me, so why question it?
When I reached the hotel entrance, a doorman ushered me inside. A few people were sitting on the leather couches in the center of the lobby, luggage around their feet. Tourists. My footsteps echoed on the marble floor as I wandered around, peering behind plants and pillars. Daniel was nowhere to be seen. Had I come to the right place?
I was biting my thumbnail hesitantly, considering whether I should ask the concierge if there was another lobby, when I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye. Off to the left of the elevators, a door opened and Daniel looked out, gesturing with his hand for me to join him. I smiled and made my way across the room and through the door. He was leaning against the wall in the stairwell, his coat hanging over the railing.
“Get over here,” he whispered, pushing himself off the wall and opening his arms to me. I reached his outstretched hands and folded myself into his embrace. He pulled me close and sighed with pleasure. I responded with a sigh of my own.
Being in his arms was pure, unadulterated joy.
Chapter 19
Madness
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series) Page 19
