All I Ever Wanted(112)
“Um…well, yes. Three times. And I, well, I e-mailed him. Twice. And I drove by his house at ten last night, but it was dark.”
“Wow. Restraining order material,” she murmured. “Did you try the door?” she added. Yet another example of why we were friends.
“I was afraid the dog would out me.”
“Right.” She ate a potato chip, chewing contemplatively. “I guess you have to wait.”
I swallowed. “I just feel that if I could say things the right way, he’d understand. But he won’t talk to me.”
“Did you tell him you loved him?” she asked.
My eyes filled again. “Yes. It didn’t work.”
Annie sighed. “I don’t know, Callie. Seems like you have to…ride it out. I mean, if it’s meant to be…” Her voice trailed off. “Right?”
“Right,” I said, blowing my nose. “He’s just not the kind of guy who…overlooks things. He saw Mark kissing me. He’s not going to forget that.”
“That was a nut-kicker, I’m sure,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Well, come on. The man walked in on his wife in bed with someone else. Now he sees his new girlfriend kissing her ex-boyfriend.”
“If I wanted this kind of talk, I’d have called Hester, okay? Can’t you be more sympathetic?”
“Sure,” Annie said easily. “Maybe it’s time for Gerard, don’t you think?” I nodded. “Do we want 300 or P.S. I Love You?”
“P.S. The other one is just homoerotic dreck.”
“It’s Dave’s favorite movie,” she said. “So you’re probably right.”
THE NEXT FEW DAYS DRAGGED. Ian didn’t call. He did, however, respond to my fourth e-mail—Callie, I’d appreciate a little space. Ian. Try as I might, it was hard to put a positive spin on that, though I guessed it was better than Leave me alone, hag.
What I’d said to Annie had been true. If I could just get Ian to see what I meant…and what I felt. Every time I thought of that stupid line—I’m in love with you, Ian. Not Mark—I cringed and reached for more cake batter. Though my statement had been true, it just sounded…shallow.
I hadn’t realized how much noise Noah made, the saws and sanders out in the shop, the odd rhythm of his uneven gait, his barked curses and demands for dinner. Though I was glad he’d gone the way he had, I missed the old troll. Bowie did, too, often going into Noah’s room, then returning to lie quietly at my feet.
The golden light of October faded into the gray skies and cold rains the Vermont Tourism Board doesn’t want you to know about. With the foliage stripped by a wind-storm and the three rivers brown and churning, Georgebury looked bare and weary, hunkering down in resignation for a long, long winter.
Freddie was moving in…it made sense, given that he’d be working here. Somewhat surprisingly, my parents had been thrilled that Fred wanted to take over Noah’s Arks, shrugging off the small fortune they’d already spent on his education and sending him for yet another round, this time for a week at the WoodenBoat School in Maine. He’d be back in time for the wedding.
Ah, the wedding. It would be a civil ceremony, followed by dinner, at Elements. My parents were so happy it was surreal…the laughter, the flirting, the affection. Hester still looked at them with a mix of horror and amusement, but then again, that’s how we were all looking at her these days.
“Think you and Louis will tie the knot?” I asked her one day as we shopped for the girls’ dresses…red for Josephine, cream for Bronte.
“Nah,” Hester answered. “The girls and I do great together. Maybe when Bronte goes off to college, but if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right? And Louis likes having his own place. He has this collection of antique mortuary tools—”
“Okay, we’re done. Glad things are working out, Hes.”
“Thanks, Callie,” she said, slugging me affectionately on the shoulder, hard enough that I’d be sore in the morning. “Hey. Sorry you and Owen didn’t work out.”
“Ian. Thanks,” I said.
“How’s the job hunt going?” she asked, kindly changing the subject.
I sighed. “Not much out there,” I admitted, then glanced at my watch. “Shoot. I have to run, Hester. I’m supposed to clean out my office today, and I wanted to do it at lunch. Avoid a few people.”
“Good luck with that,” she said.
My mood was bittersweet as I walked to Green Mountain. I’d miss Damien’s sniping and gossip, miss Karen’s growling and Pete and Leila’s symbiosis. And I’d miss the work most of all. But I was done. I’d sent Mark an e-mail saying when I’d be in to clean out my office, asked him to have Karen settle my insurance and all that. I didn’t mention his idiotic declarations or stupid kiss.
As I struggled through the door with my empty boxes, Damien jumped up to help. “We’re interviewing for your position,” he whispered. “But Mark would take you back in a heartbeat. Probably double your salary, too.”
“Gotta pass, buddy,” I said. “But I’ll still see you, right?”
“All the time,” he said.
In a way, it was soothing to pack up my office and see the evidence of years of my work. As I looked at the hospital poster, the boy’s remarkable eyes, I thought about taking that home. After all, it was one of my best pieces ever. But it was also the poster that had brought me to Santa Fe, and I didn’t want to be reminded of Santa Fe anymore.