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“HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN already?” Melissa asked, bumping my hip with hers behind the coffee shop counter.
I cleaned the last of the mess around the espresso machine and tossed the coffee-stained dishcloth into the small sink beside the Styrofoam cups. I sighed and crossed my arms. “Three days.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “You going to make it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I don’t see why you just don’t go down there this weekend and surprise him. You know you want to.”
“I can’t. I promised him I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t have to stay all day,” Melissa persuaded. “Just for a few minutes. Sneak a little lovin’ while he’s bent over the table saw.”
My brow kicked up. “The table saw? That could get a little dangerous.”
She dismissed my literal interpretation with an eye roll. “You know what I mean. Besides, don’t you think your grandmother would like to see you?”
“She’s not even there,” I explained. “Evidently, Joseph is tearing into the walls and there’s a lot of dust. He asked my mother if Grandma could stay with them for a while so she’s not breathing all that in.”
I pushed myself from the back counter and ambled toward the door, my thoughts roaming in the same direction as Melissa’s. I wanted more than anything to surprise Joseph with a quick little visit, but I also didn’t want to upset him. He made it perfectly clear that I was a distraction, one he didn’t need if he was going to get anything done. I turned the lock and flipped the sign in the window to CLOSED.
“What if you surprised him by being at Candace’s house?” Melissa suggested. “He’s not working there and maybe once he comes home on Friday night, he’ll want that distraction. He is a man, you know.”
As good as that sounded, I was not about to have our ‘first time’ in his sister’s guest bedroom. “I don’t think so. I’ll just go home and watch some TV. Eat a whole pint of Graeter’s.”
Melissa laughed at my joke. “Well, if you need anything...someone to help you binge on Black Raspberry Chip or what not, call me. I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks,” I said, hugging her.
“Come on, I’ll give you a lift home.” We collected our purses and coats and headed out the door together. We walked a couple blocks to the parking garage and climbed inside her cherry red Camaro with black stripes running the length of the hood. I always thought this vehicle had too many horses for her to handle, but they didn’t scare Melissa. She lived to test the limits, just short of breaking the rules. I, however, was content to live vicariously through her.
She fired up the engine and pulled out, the deep rumble of the motor echoing against the concrete walls of the near empty garage. In no time, she circled the block and turned down Sycamore Street. She pulled in front of my apartment building and slid the shifter into park. I hugged her from across my seat and got out, waving as she sped away.
Knowing I had nothing to come home to, I entered the historical building in a funky mood. I couldn’t believe I had eleven more days of this. I decided then I needed a hobby. Maybe I’d finish that afghan I started crocheting a few years ago. Surprise my grandmother with it for her birthday.
Who was I kidding? Crocheting would only remind me of Grandma, which in turn would remind me of Joseph laboring to repair her house, which then would remind me of how much I missed him. I concluded that I didn’t need a hobby after all. I needed more ice cream. Tomorrow, I’d pick up a dozen more pints on my way home from work. Problem solved.
As I stepped off the elevator and turned the corner, I stopped short. Caroline stood just outside Joseph’s door, punching an angry text on her cell. I could only assume Joseph was at the receiving end of that stabbing finger. I stepped back and hid behind the corner wall, suppressing a smile. It seemed she wasn’t all that happy about the sudden lock change.
Coincidently, my cell vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and read the screen.
Caroline is at my door. Don’t go home yet.
I texted back.
2 late, already here.
As soon as I hit SEND, I heard the heavy stomps of her designer boots marching down the corridor. I panicked and dashed for the elevator. I pressed both buttons repeatedly. Come on. Come on. I glanced up at the floor indicator lights. The elevator was stuck on the first floor. I made a mad dash for the stairwell.
From behind me, I heard the disgust in Caroline’s voice. “Uuuugh. You.”
I whirled around and manufactured a pleasant smile. “Well, hello. Clementine, right?” I purposely chose a ridiculous name. I was not about to give this woman the satisfaction of thinking she was memorable.
“Caroline,” she snipped, planting her hands on her hips.
“Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry. I’m terrible with names.”
“Cut the crap, Judith.” Amazed that the woman was smart enough to dish the name game back at me, I couldn’t hide my amusement no matter how hard I tried. My pursed grin only infuriated her. “Do you have something to do with this?” She held up her key between two French-manicured fingernails.
I played dumb. “What’s wrong with your key?”
“It doesn’t work,” she snapped. “Why is that?”
I stuttered, not knowing how to fend off this charging bull. Without a figurative red cape, I felt like an ill-equipped matador. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask Joseph about that.”
“Oh, I will. Don’t you worry. And if I find out you had something to do with this—”
“Are you threatening me?” Somehow, amid all her posturing and hoof scratching, I found my back bone. Standing toe-to-toe with this walking Clinique counter didn’t seem to intimidate me anymore.
She glared at me with fire in her eyes. “Where’s Joseph?”
As much as it would’ve pleased me to slap this pompous princess with a full explanation of where he was and why, I wasn’t about to divulge such personal information. If he wanted her to know where he was, he would’ve informed her himself.
“All I know is he’s out of town for a couple weeks.” I figured I’d give her that much so that in his absence, I wouldn’t have to deal with her popping in again.
“Fine,” she grumbled, jamming her keys into her purse. She righted the strap on her shoulder just as the elevator door opened and jetted passed me. I watched the doors close behind her as my cell vibrated in my hand.
I smiled when I read Joseph’s text.
No matter what she says to make U feel inadequate, remember U have the key that works.
I read his text twice before unlocking my own apartment door, his encouraging words hugging me the way he would—with warmth and compassion. I held my cell as I hung up my coat, wondering what I should text back to him. I reckoned he was worried about our little encounter and was dying to know what went down.
I walked to the kitchen and pulled a half-pint of Graeter’s ice cream from the freezer. As the door closed, I caught sight of our photo booth pictures clinging to the front. I plucked the strip from the magnet holding them and gazed at the shots. For the first time since we’d taken them, I regarded each one carefully, recoiling at my goofy poses and facial expressions. But as I studied Joseph’s, my heart melted. The camera had captured the blatant admiration in his eyes. If I didn’t’ know any better, he looked like a man in love.
Staring at the pictures, I snagged a spoon from the drawer and traipsed into the bedroom. Consumed with staring at the two of us as a couple, I absently got ready for bed. My PJs were on, my spoon was primed in the container, and Joseph’s apartment key lay reverently on my nightstand. All nestled under the covers, I picked up my cell and texted him at last.
I survived unscathed. Rest assured, what little emotional stress I endured this evening, can be remedied with ice cream therapy.
Within minutes a new text came through.
I’m so sorry U had to deal with this. I will B taking care of it immediately, if not sooner.
Part of me felt sorry for Caroline. Maybe it was the creamy, chocolaty goodness sliding down my throat that eased the burn in my stomach and made me sympathize with her just a little. Giving up Joseph, would have to be the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. I’m certain if the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t go down without a fight either.
I sucked another heaping mound of ice cream off my spoon and texted a thoughtful reply.
Go easy on her. I’m betting underneath all that scaly skin and fangs lies a heart.
Anxiously awaiting his response, I scraped out the last remaining dollop of ice cream and tossed the spoon into the empty container. Setting the cup on my nightstand, my cell vibrated once more.
This is why I adore U. Leaving UR grandmother’s now. Talk to U tomorrow. Gnite
I texted back my farewell, clicked off the light, and snuggled deep beneath my quilt. I laid on my side, gazing at the strip of photos leaning against my lamp and the key propping it up. I hated that I couldn’t see the real Joseph or kiss his warm, soft lips goodnight. But I closed my eyes feeling quite content that the man in the sepia photos had strong feelings for me. He may not have admitted his love for me exactly, but his testimony of “I adore you” was good enough.
