“Thanks, Clara,” Shelly whimpered, staring to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She managed an “I love you,” but had already begun snoring by the time Clara said she loved her, too.
The conversation stayed with Clara over the next several days, alternately making her smile and shake her head with amazement. To think, Shelly with the perfect life thought it was a wreck? What if she hadn’t gone over to her sister’s house that day? Who knows how long they would have kept their walls up around each other, pretending everything was great, everything perfect. She had plans to go back that weekend and help out again; her poor sister had begun feeling morning sickness, only it hit morning, noon and night.
Comfy on her couch, Clara logged onto Facebook to send Shelly a quick message. And lo and behold, a message from Alek.
“Been swimming lately?” he asked.
Her heart leapt, her cheeks turned pink. What did he mean? Did he even realize he was messaging with her? Was he referring to their last night together? Dear lord, she didn’t think she could take this.
“Nope,” she wrote back.
“There’s a lake in Tilden Park.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
And that was it. He logged off. Over in Europe, he was starting his day. Asking her about swimming.
The next time she saw Cat she didn’t plan on mentioning Alek. It was part of her ‘act casual’ campaign. Cat was up in SF again for the new store. The June day brimmed with sunshine and a light breeze; even in San Francisco it reached a perfect 78 degrees. With no job and no income, Cat decided the best thing for Clara to do was go shopping. For color.
“You’ve lost weight,” Cat declared, taking her into yet another boutique Clara had neither shopped in nor noticed before.
“Really?” Clara looked down at herself in rather nondescript black leggings and a large shirt Cat had immediately insisted that she belt. She didn’t look any skinnier, she didn’t think.
“You think I’m not telling the truth? I always tell it straight. Remember I told you when you were lumpy?”
Clara laughed. “I definitely do. But I don’t know about now. I haven’t weighed myself lately.”
“Shut up.”
“Really. But I have been running again.” Out on the trails she’d felt like volunteering to do an ad for the East Bay Regional Park system touting their website motto: Embrace Life! Up along ridgeline trails that overlooked bright blue reservoirs, down into chaparral-lined single-track paths, or winding through soft, quiet redwood forests, she was officially getting her groove back. This was how running used to feel to her, back before she’d become the reigning Queen of the Couch and Screen.
“Haven’t even weighed yourself.” Cat gave a disgusted snort. “You are so annoying.” With Cat, one never needed to ask, ‘Tell me how you really feel?’
Cat rummaged through racks of clothes, dismissing nearly everything with the practiced air of an expert. A master at work. Clara could simply sit back and be handed things that looked good on her: the perfect shopping expedition.
“I’ve also been eating a lot less Ben and Jerry’s,” Clara reflected.
“That’ll do it.”
“Yeah. You’d think ice cream for dinner every night would be a good idea. But…”
In another store, Clara fell in love with a sleeveless, floral print sundress. Without Cat, she never would have tried it on. It resembled nothing in her closet.
“But are you sure I should buy it?” Clara bit her lip as she studied herself in the mirror. She gave the dress a twirl and felt like Maria going to the dance with the Sharks and the Jets, about to meet Tony. She and her mom had watched West Side Story the other day. “I’m not sure if I could wear it to work.”
“You don’t even have a job yet.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Buy it,” Cat commanded.
As they headed out into the street, Clara found herself unable to not mention Alek one second longer. She spilled it all, how he’d Facebook friended her, how he’d messaged her a couple of times, and how the last time he’d mentioned swimming.
“What’s the deal with swimming?” Cat asked.
“Remember, the last time I saw him? In college?” Cat didn’t. Clara gave her the short version—skinny dipping and maybe sort-of almost kissing before campus security hauled her out of there.
“How could you not have told me this?” Cat gave her a shove, nearly knocking her off the sidewalk.
“I don’t know. When it happened we were in the middle of finals and then graduating and moving.”
“You have no sense of priorities.” Cat shook her head in disgust. “But the next time you see him—”
“We don’t have any plans—”
“The man’s in Europe and he texting you about swimming. You’re going to see each other.”
“But there’s a picture of him with a gorgeous woman on his Facebook page.”
“You’re a gorgeous woman,” Cat informed her.
Clara snorted in response.
“You are,” Cat insisted. “And you know I don’t bullshit. You’ve been going through a long and pathetic time in your life.”
Clara instinctively began to formulate a protest, but it died before it came to life. When Cat was right, she was right.
“But you’ve snapped out of it, thank God.” Cat wrapped her arm around Clara’s waist and gave her a quick squeeze. “I missed you.”
Clara felt tears spring to her eyes, which Cat would never tolerate, so she quickly wiped them away. “Good to be back,” she agreed. “But I am worried, if I do see him…”
“Listen to me.” Cat stopped walking, so serious was her advice. “When you see him, wear that dress we just bought.”
Clara laughed.
“I’m going to tell you this, now. Listen up.” Cat pointed an index finger at Clara. “You catch more flies with honey. But you catch more honeys if you’re fly!”
They both burst out laughing. “What does that even mean?” Clara had to ask as they continued walking down the street.
“Don’t think about things so hard,” Cat told her. “Just rock it.”
And then it happened.
About a week later, right about when Clara was thinking it was around the time Alek might be getting back into town, she got a message.
“You busy this weekend?” he wrote.
“Hi! Are you back in Berkeley?”
“Got in yesterday.”
Lots of things about text messaging made it preferable to the phone. Like how if you yelped or squealed the person you were talking to didn’t hear it.
“No, I’m not busy,” Clara replied, so casual.
“Want to have coffee?”
Clara thought she might hyperventilate. Just coffee, she told herself, just coffee.
“Sounds good.”
“How’s Saturday? 11 o’clock?”
“Great.” She practiced breathing. Reminding herself that he had a girlfriend. A raven-haired princess, no less. She really needed to calm it down.
“See you then.”
CHAPTER 21
SOON, SHE’D ASK
Clara’s sundress swished around her knees as she walked down the sunny sidewalk on her way to meet Alek. Her strappy sandals clicked along the pavement. And her heart threatened to burst out of her ribcage. Remain calm, remain calm, remain calm she repeated to herself in a hurried, frantic internal monologue. Didn’t every calm person shoehorn-wedge themselves into a state of Zen like one of Cinderella’s stepsisters trying to jam their foot into that damn shoe? Clara felt so calm she could explode.
She ran her fingers through her hair, only a block away from the coffee shop where she and Alek had arranged to meet. Turned out he’d suggested her favorite place. What were the chances? Perhaps he’d even been there some morning when she’d stumbled in, pre-coffee comatose, baseball cap pulled down low.
She bet if he had seen her, he wouldn’t have recognized her. But now,
she hoped he would. After getting ready, she’d given herself a long last look in the mirror. Her hair fell over her shoulders in soft, shiny waves. Her legs, freshly shaved and moisturized, were starting to tone up from all the running. Even her nerves hadn’t prevented her from admitting that she looked pretty good, maybe even glowing. Amazing what a whole month of happy could do for a person. Compared to a few weeks ago, it almost looked as if she’d been transformed by a genie.
Outside, the morning Bay Area fog had lifted and trees proudly displayed their leaves in the sunshine, boasting of summer. Clara let her fingertips lightly touch a pink rose growing on a bush outside of a house and tried to think light, relaxed thoughts. Light and relaxed, light and relaxed.
A turn onto the sidewalk of the main street and there she saw it: the coffeeshop. It felt as if it hit her right in the stomach. She inhaled sharply and felt her knees go weak. Would she and Alek have anything to talk about? What would he think of her? Did she look anything like she used to? Would they hit it off like they had in college at the end? Or would they fight like they had in the beginning?
She forced herself to take a deep breath and picture that glowing image of coupley-happiness gracing his Facebook page. The guy was taken. Best not to get all worked up over a guy in a relationship. Again.
At the café, the man ahead held the door open for her, something she didn’t recall having happened to her in a while. She looked up to thank him and stopped.
Alek. Exactly as he had been, only better with a few laugh lines at the crinkles of his eyes and the corners of his full lips. He stood tall in a faded blue t-shirt and dark jeans and Clara needed to dab a bit of drool from her chin.
“Clara!” He reached down and gave her a quick hug. Enough that she could feel how he’d filled out, not overweight and not a brawny bodybuilder, just… grown into himself. Gone were the angles and his bristling, edgy anger. In its place he gave her a wide, welcoming smile.
“Hey, Alek.” Clara looked down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and telling herself to Pull. It. Together. The tidal-sized wave of attraction crashing over her at the sight of him wasn’t helping.
“Wow.” He stood back. There was that smile of his and his intense, dark eyes. A rich, deep brown, Clara realized they were the exact shade of coffee. No wonder it was her favorite drink. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah.” So eloquent.
“Glad you could find time for some coffee.”
“I always make time for coffee.”
“Woman after my own heart.” He put a casual hand to the small of her back as they walked forward. Her legs nearly folded under her. This was ridiculous. “Do you have a favorite drink?”
She looked up at him, nervous for a moment as if he’d heard her thoughts on that very topic featuring the warm quality of his eyes. But then she realized he was gesturing to the large chalkboard behind the counter displaying what seemed to be around a hundred different coffee choices.
She stepped closer to the counter, biting her lip and looking at the chalkboard as if studying her options. Instead of feeling his arm brush against hers. Yup, still radiated heat. Like that night down at the lake when she’d stood against him, wrapped in his arms.
He leaned toward her. “They make a great macchiato.”
“Sounds so good,” she sighed. She had a new favorite word. As long as Alek said it in that deep, rumbling voice of his: macchiato. Had a coffee drink ever sounded so sexy?
She didn’t snap out of her reverie until she noticed Alek taking cash out of his wallet at the register.
“Here, let me.” She reached for her clutch purse, small, sweet and red, compliments of Cat.
“Let me buy a coffee for my old friend.” Alek waved her off.
Old friend, Clara repeated to herself. Awesome. Old, which every woman loved to hear. She had turned 32 that week, after all. And friend.
Keep. It. Together.
They sat down together at a table by the window. After her breath hitched in admiration of the way his soft blue shirt eased its way over his solid broad shoulders, and after that strong jaw of his had made her sigh all over again—into her coffee hopefully looking like she was blowing it to cool it off—and after she’d reflected that the merest hint of stubble on him played the same role as a light sprinkling of a fresh herb on a plate of hand-cut pasta, bringing the dish to life. Because he was quite dishy (pun intended).
After all that, in response to Alek’s thoughtful questions about what she’d been up to, Clara found herself chatting away happily about quitting her job.
“I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that I’m out of there.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’ve actually been having fun these past couple of weeks, taking all these interesting people in my field out to lunches and coffees. I haven’t applied for any jobs yet, I’ve just been treating it like…” She searched for the right word.
“Like you’re learning?”
“Yeah, exactly. Like I’m exploring or letting myself—”
“Think outside the box?”
“Right!” She beamed at him. The man seemed to know exactly how she felt. “I got myself on this path five years ago.” She used her hand to mark out rungs on a ladder along the table. “I was going to work at the county agency, get promoted up the ranks, maybe run the division some day. I was so focused on executing my plan I forgot to realize I was completely miserable.”
“I think it’s so great that you’re doing this.” Alek shook his head. “A lot of people wouldn’t want to take the risk. It can be scary to change course.”
“I know. It is a little scary. And talk to me in three months when my savings have run dry.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “But lately, I’ve got this whole new perspective.” It wouldn’t do to mention time travel, she knew that, but a vivid image of Jeanie in bright pink did come to mind. “It’s a cliché, I know, but sometimes clichés are there for a reason. Life is short. You have to live it.”
“It’s fascinating that you’re here saying this right now.” Alek leaned closer, deeply engaged. “The timing is perfect.” He went on to explain how he’d been pursuing his own clearly-defined path of tenure at a university. But now, just as his goal was within reach, most likely to happen in the coming year, he found himself realizing it might not be the right fit.
“Being on faculty, it’s much more confining than I’d expected,” he confessed.”The politics of the university and the classes I have to teach. I like the energy of the students, but more and more, I want to focus on my research. I feel like we’re getting close.”
“Really?” Clara felt a shiver of excitement.
“I think so. I’m working with a brilliant team. We’ve been getting some promising results. And there are some very interested investors.”
Alek explained how a Silicon Valley hedge fund, the leader in the field of Green Tech, had recently made him and his partners an offer to invest in their work. An extremely attractive one.
He ran a hand through his dark hair; Clara wished she could do that for him. “So, what do you think? Should I go for it?” he asked. “I’d be giving up a big goal I thought I wanted.”
“I’m in a take chances kind-of a mood,” Clara laughed. “So, I’m either the right person to talk to, or I’m a disaster. Because I definitely think you should go for it.”
“Take the leap?”
“Jump right in.”
“Well, glad we’ve got that decided, then,” he declared, bringing both of his palms to the table with a light bang. “We didn’t waste any time on small talk, did we?”
“Nope.”
The depth of warmth in the smile they gave each other must have nearly caused a power surge, then outage on the city block. She almost felt like Alek might be about to reach out for her hand across the coffee table.
But he didn’t. He looked down and fiddled with his napkin. She took another sip of coffee.
“You know,” he began. “I tried to get in touch wi
th you after college. I called what I think was your family’s house.”
“You did?”
“I did. I tried to get your number.”
“What happened?” How had she never gotten word of this? Her pulse raced.
“Your father told me he wasn’t in the habit of giving out his daughter’s phone number to strange men calling on the telephone.”
“No!” Clara brought her hand to her mouth, laughing. She could absolutely picture her father doing that, all formal and reprimanding.
“And he said that if you wanted to give me your number you would.”
“Oh, no.” She covered her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry! He’s always been over-protective.”
“As I’m sure I would be if I had my own kids,” Alek agreed, grinning.
OK, so he didn’t have kids. But maybe wanted them. All good. Plus, she had to admit she’d checked out his ring finger. Harmless to do so, really, it didn’t mean that if he had no ring on his finger she’s start picking out china patterns or writing Mrs. Aleksander Novak in her special secret diary.
He had no ring on his finger.
“My dad never even told me you called,” Clara apologized.
“I don’t think I got around to giving him my name.”
“And when we graduated there was no Facebook,” Clara continued. “So there was no easy way to keep in touch.” Or do time travel.
“As if you would have accepted my friend request back then,” he teased.
“I would have,” she insisted, leaning forward.
“Yeah?” he asked, leaning in as well.
“I mean,” she drew a shaky breath, “at least at the end of senior year.”
“You did seem to change. Right at the end.”.
Nerves shot through Clara. Rationally, she knew there’d be no way he could possibly be suspicious that she’d travelled through time to re-visit the same day three times in a row, gradually transitioning from antipathy to a deep appreciation of his character, intellect, work-ethic and, OK, let’s face it, extreme, off-the-charts hotness. But, still, she felt like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She had changed right at the end of college, and if he asked her why she was afraid she’d tell all.
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