Chapter Seventeen
The sun was setting in a blaze of red-hued glory; it had already sunk far enough into the horizon that the grass' green, deprived of yellows and blues, had darkened to a near-black. The street lights had not yet come on and the late crowd, after staying for extra hours at work, had the road for themselves as they rushed home to their families, or at least to their dinners. Thomas appreciated the view as he strolled along, toting a canvas bag full of groceries in each hand. Yesterday's time off had done wonders for his nerves and he felt remarkably calm, almost peaceful. The only thing on his mind was, actually, the reason for why he had been sent out to the grocery store on foot.
It wasn't that he minded, he was a guest in Nadia's home and he expected to help to make his presence less intrusive. What was odd about it was that St. Laurent Shopping Centre was nearly a twenty minute walk from her apartment, one way. This itself wasn't any problem, but up to now, Nadia had driven them wherever they had to go, so the change was a curious one to him. Again, not that he minded, but he was concerned. Perhaps he had been more of a nuisance than he thought and she needed some time to herself? But... only an hour's worth? Frowning, he continued on his way; the sun slowly slipping below the horizon as he went.
The street lights had come on by the time he reached the doors to the apartment building and he slipped inside just ahead of the storm cloud his worrying had created to hang over him. Buzzing the apartment to be let in, Nadia did not answer. Frowning deeper, Thomas decided to wait a few minutes before trying again; someone else on their way in had a key, fortunately, and he slipped in with them. Riding the elevator up to Nadia's floor, his worry-prone thoughts stepped themselves up another notch and he had to physically shake his head to buy himself a few moments' peace. Trying the handle when he came to her door resulted only in his realizing that it was locked, so he set the bags on the ground and gave it a quick rap with one hand. When this still produced no response, he felt a twinge of irritation working its way through him; his next knock was considerably louder than he had intended it to be.
Hearing the lock grate open, he stooped to pick the bags up, but upon straightening up found the door still shut to him. Nodding in acknowledgement of his own frustration, he opened the door himself and stepped inside. Setting the groceries down as he kicked his shoes off, he locked the door behind himself and stalked out of the entryway, fully intending to have a word with his hostess. He stopped in mid-storm, however, as he tried to make sense of what he saw. The dining room table had been set out for two, each plate containing a dish he had never seen before; a thick, light brown sauce containing what looked like red peppers, bits of green onion and chicken mixed in with angel's hair pasta. Giving the air a sniff, the telltale smell of peanut butter tipped him off to what the brown sauce's main ingredient was. Taking a few steps towards this, he was surprised again when Nadia almost timidly stepped out of the kitchen and into his field of vision. She was wearing a modest blue dress that went nearly to her ankles, tied at the waist with a white sash; reaching just past her shoulders, her black hair was out of its usual ponytail for a change and he noticed that it had a slight curl to it. Had she done that herself? He honestly couldn't remember ever seeing a curl to her hair before, but then, he supposed he had never really looked.
Entirely dumbfounded, Thomas managed to speak only with the help of a deep breath. "Hello."
She gave a small wave in response. "Hi. Um... won't you sit?"
Nodding mutely, he followed her suggestion. Watching her move around the table and into the kitchen again, it took him a moment to realize he had nearly put his elbow in his food. Folding his hands in his lap, he cleared his throat. "What's all of this?"
Returning from the adjacent room holding a pair of lit candles, she blinked at him. "Pardon? Oh, it's peanut butter chicken, or that's what my parents call it anyway. Looks a little odd, I know, but it tastes great, I promise."
"I'm sure it does," he replied, watching her set her new additions to the table down and dim the lights before finally taking her seat. Taking an experimental mouthful, he found it lived up to her praise. Glancing up to tell her so, he found her watching him with an anxious expression; she busied herself with her own plate when she realized he had caught her doing it.
Setting his fork down, he coughed gently. "Nadia... I'm serious. What is all of this?"
Leaving her fork in her food, she smiled nervously. "What do you mean? I told you I was a good cook the last time we were at my parents place, being there yesterday just sort of reminded me that I hadn't shown you yet."
He sighed as she tried to evade the question again. "Okay? But what about the dress and the candles? And the heels, unless you grew an inch or two since I left?"
"Oh," seemed to be all she could manage. Tugging on a loose strand of her hair, she shrugged and forced a smile. "I just wanted to, that's all."
Thomas frowned, but did not press the matter. She seemed oddly jittery tonight and he did not want to upset her. The pair ate in silence and it was not until both of their plates were empty that either one of them breathed another word.
"So... I asked my father about Orion," she began, glancing up at him.
Glancing up at her, their eyes met for a moment, before she glanced back at her plate. Clearing his throat, he decided to respond only to what she had said. "Oh yeah? Anything useful?"
She shrugged. "Not really, no. He turned over every stone he could, even called some friends, but nothing came up. Whoever he is, he's good at keeping his trail covered."
He tried to smile sympathetically, but she was not looking at him. "Huh. Sorry about that. Do we have any new leads?"
She nodded, directing her eyes back in his direction as she spoke to him. "Yeah, I asked my father to help me with a plan I have to get in touch with Orion."
He frowned slightly. "Don't you mean 'to help us get in touch with Orion'?"
Nadia looked at him for a moment with an expression he had never seen before; it was frustrated, but somehow pleading at the same time. Getting up from the table, she brushed past him. "Going to the washroom," was the only explanation she gave him, leaving Thomas sitting at the table to ponder what exactly was going on here.
After five and a few more minutes had passed without her coming back, it became clear that the matter was as serious as he had been afraid it was. Picking up the dishes himself, Thomas placed them in the sink and tidied the table, being careful as he put the candles out. Moving down the hall, he knocked quietly on the bathroom door.
"Nadia? Are you okay?"
"I'm f-fine!"
Her voice sounded a little higher-pitched than usual and the audible crack in her second word also caught his attention. "Are you sure? You sort of sound like..."
"Like what, Thomas? How do I sound? I should sound fine, because that's what I am!"
Flinching slightly, he sat on the floor, watching the closed door as he brushed his hand over the carpet. "You sound like you're crying."
She hiccoughed loudly from behind the door, before coughing just as loudly to clear her throat. "Well, that shows what you know, doesn't it?"
He rested his head against the bathroom door. "Nadia... What's wrong? Come on, tell me, please. I don't like seeing you like this."
She snapped back and he caught the sound of a rant building in her tone. "Like what? In a dress? Well, I'm sorry if..."
Wincing at his poor choice of words, he cut her off before she could get any more upset. "That wasn't what I meant! You looked nice tonight, I meant I don't like seeing you all worked up like this."
The rant averted, she instead opted to be blunt. "Well, it's your fault."
He sighed. "I'd gathered that, yeah."
The pair, on opposite sides of the door, sat in silence for another few minutes before Nadia spoke up again. "You thought I looked nice?"
Blinking, Thomas felt himself blush even without her there to see it. "Yeah, I did. I guess I hadn't noticed before, but you're... well, you looke
d really nice."
"I'm what? Tell me, please?" She seemed less upset, now, and more... insistent, he supposed, though he still wasn't exactly sure what she was after.
He felt his blush deepening. "You're beautiful."
Hearing the doorknob turning, Thomas straightened up, not sure what to expect. Nadia, framed in the doorway, studied him for a moment. Sighing with a quiet smile, she slugged him in the arm. "You idiot."
Blinking as he rubbed his arm, he was left speechless as she brushed past him and into her room. Shutting the door behind herself, she did not re-emerge until she was back in her usual jeans, t-shirt and ponytail. "Well? What are you standing there for? We'll miss the big event."
Letting himself be towed back to the couch, Thomas did his best to figure out what had happened that evening; from the fancy dinner to the crying, to sitting on the couch beside each other, instead of at opposite ends, as they watched the news, of all things. He supposed he had done something right, Nadia definitely seemed happier; but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was. Still, he definitely preferred it when she smiled, so he didn't spend too long worrying about it.
In Icarus' Shadow Page 29
