Sorry for the slightly longer time it took to post. A few people have been asking how far I'm going to take this story. I completely plan on taking it to the kidnapping (at the least). As usual, enjoy and please comment! :)
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He left me at my doorstep with a small nod and shifting eyes, a broken smile on the verge of full formation before the invisible puppet master cut the strings from Walter's lips. The tailor trudged down the sidewalk without looking back as I entered my warm home.
I knew by now that he would open up more in time. This, whatever this was, was on his terms, his timeline, his mindset. What he had told me in the park about his mother did not shock me. It explained his level of discomfort and bleak outlook on the world that I saw behind his eyes every time I spoke to him.
A couple days passed in which we held our traditional fine dining in the back of the shop, still with few words and few feelings expressed. There were no nervous hands or wandering fingers, no abrupt half-confessions or kisses. Nothing changed from before although I swore that he worked slower now to preserve our company in the cold corners of the tailor's shop.
I did not grow bored with the passing hours into days as might have been expected. I was in no rush like other women to pursue a real relationship or to jump into bed with the first man that laid eyes on them. Walter was unlike any man in this city these days due to his unfortunate childhood and lack of healthy maternal figurehead. His mistrust was not something that could ever be cleansed from his memories or his behaviors, at least in reference to the general female population. Yet I believed that every word he spoke to me was laced with a small hope for progression towards tender actions and feelings. The rare 'Thank you's that I received upon delivering food and 'So long's upon stepping off the train were not forced, not an act of politeness that one may deal out to strangers. His sincerity was sincere, unlike that which he spat to customers and his boss. His job grew more bearable as we came to know each other because I did not threaten him, I was not afraid of him, and I never bothered him. I knew when he would say 'Yes,' when he would say 'No,' and I nodded and smiled with him as I did with my students. Walter needed to be assured of his safety around me.
I wish I could tell him that I would never leave him to be alone again because it was the truth. Every time the thought sprung into my mind, my face gave it away. Walter asked if there was something wrong or looked at me with the raised eyebrow.
'No…. Nothing is wrong,' I would say with a nod and smile as I return to my book and he to his work.
This happened at least three times between our night in the Park and Christmas Eve.
…..
Suddenly it was one of the most cliché and commercialized times of year besides Valentine's Day. Should I get Walter anything? Was I supposed to? And would he even appreciate it if I found the right gift? Back and forth my mind turned, still with no answer by the time I had trudged through the snow to his apartment.
I rapped at the door softly, shivering on the stoop. It occurred to me that perhaps I should have checked the store first, but when I left my own home it was already past ten and I doubted that he would still be there.
Right?
A good minute passed and I knocked again. I was startled by the rattling of trash down the street, heavy footsteps echoed someplace down an alleyway, and I stomped in front of his door.
"Where the hell are you?" I hissed. "God damn."
The waiting gave me more time to think and reason out a possible gift, but at this point I figured that if he was not home then he would either be at the shop or on the way back from the shop. I cursed myself for not having any paper on me to leave a note; I typically did in my schoolbag, something that I did not carry around over breaks.
I envisioned myself leaping at Walter out of anger, glee, and a desire to envelop myself in something warm. He would stare at me with raised eyebrows and pluck me off like a bit of dust. I laughed to myself, interrupted by a harsh voice.
"Keep doing that and someone might toss you a penny."
A swift about-face from the door to the street, and there stood Walter, looking up at me from the sidewalk.
"How long have you been here?"
"Not very. Come on. Open up."
"Inviting yourself over now?" He came up the steps, ruffling through his pockets for his keys. "Maybe I don't want company."
"Says the man who appeared on my doorstep one night claiming to have just been walking past."
An innocent glare shot back at me as he pushed the doors open and I followed in.
"Didn't believe me?"
"Of course not."
When we were inside and I was just about to strip out of my heavy winter coat, he ordered me to stay put.
"Keep that on," he said.
"What? Are we going someplace?"
I watched him shuffle through a stack of papers and books beside his mattress, searching for something. I did not witness what he discovered, as his back was towards me and my eyes drifted around to the kitchen area.
Heavy footfalls on tile back towards me, he slapped off the lights and brushed past to the front door.
"Come on."
I was curious. I announced my suspicions. "What are we doing?" This was odd. Very odd.
"You know what they say about curiosity."
I smirked and followed him out into a fresh snowfall.
…..
After about ten minutes on our way to a mysterious location in which Walter was again always at least a step in front of me, I scooted up beside him and entwined a hand down into his coat pocket. My head bent down against the wind, I did not notice if he cared or if he flung his eyes in warning towards me.
He unclenched his leather fist to take my fingers in his and muttered, "You're lucky it's dark out."
"Wouldn't dare otherwise."
We came to a restaurant around a corner, every table already full and a crowd of people waiting for their turn to dine.
I halted, tugging my hand from his pocket and stared in shock. He stopped a few paces up.
"What?"
"I – nothing." I caught up and we went inside, pushing through to the maître d'.
My mind refused to wrap itself around the new situation. Walter had taken the initiative for once; I hadn't planning anything for this evening and apparently he had made dinner reservations at a pseudo-fancy place. Naturally, I felt underdressed but not enough so that I couldn't take off my coat as we waited.
We were one of the younger couples in the restaurant, standing amongst middle-aged businessmen and women with shiny watches and gold jewelry. I immediately wondered how Walter could afford something like this tonight. But maybe this was his way of paying me back after the past couple months.
A waitress led us a few minutes later to a corner table in the back where we wouldn't have to stand out against the throngs of people in nicer clothes. As we settled down with menus displayed before us, I immediately told Walter that he didn't have to do this.
"I didn't really-"
"You don't like it here?"
"No! No, I do. I really do," I urged. "I'm … just impressed. Surprised."
A shrug. "I wanted to. Convenient you were at my door when I needed you to be."
Back to the menu, tired eyes and thin lips.
Wow, was all I could think as I smirked and picked out an entrée. I wondered when he had come up with this idea. If it was when we were at the Park or over the days that passed after that.
As we placed our orders and waited, I looked around to observe the money that pranced through the restaurant, evident in the wines and platters displayed on the tablecloths and stains that splattered cloth napkins tucked in necks. I was content in our corner, free to people-watch and laugh at others' worries. Husbands told their wives about business affairs that had fallen through, wives told husbands about new curtains and the neighbors' affairs.
It was then that I felt another one of those pangs, deep down in my heart as I looked back at Walter, with his hands folded in his lap, and eyes flickering back and forth across the table and laid out utensils. He caught me looking and raised a corner of his mouth – another attempted smile. I would have liked to reach out to touch the dimple before it faded back into his expressionless features.
"When do you go back to school?"
"Little after New Years. For lesson plans."
"Do you want to?"
No. I wish I had more time to do things like this. A shrug. "It can't get any worse."
A nod, shifting blue eyes away again until the food came and we ate with only the background noise of the other patrons to distract us from our thoughts.
It was almost another hour until we were out of there. Standing on the corner, we waited for a taxi in the snow that had gotten worse as had the temperature. One quiet ride to my apartment later and I insisted that he come in.
"Thank you for dinner. I – uh – it's late," I said, motioning to go to bed.
"Wait," he ordered. A firm hand around my wrist just as I had begun to ascend the stairs to my room. "I – I found – you something."
With wide eyes and a bit-down bottom lip, Walter pulled out a tiny worn gift box from his coat, shoving it towards me.
"I – thought you would like it. I saw it and – well. Open it."
I shot him a curious questionable gaze as I opened the tiny box.
Inside laid a pin of a schoolboy with a tiny lunch pail and book under one arm. What made it special was that the boy was a redhead. I laughed and felt a hot blush rise to my face, slapping the back of my hand to my mouth to hide my foolish grin.
"Walter…. This… this is adorable. Thank you. I'll wear it for class."
A step forward to envelop him in a tight hug, pin and box gripped tight in one hand, a fistful of fabric in the other. I could barely feel his heart beat against my chest, but it thrummed quicker as I squeezed tight. As I buried my face in his neck, awkward hands came to press lightly to my own back. Another moment passed before I kissed his cheek and released, taking a step back. His downcast eyes avoided mine but I saw his own face flush ever so slightly after the contact.
"Let me make up the sofa for you."
"I shouldn't – "
"Yes. You should."
…..
A creepy darkness broken only by faint moonlight and streetlamps fell across everything. The accentuated shadows and trails of light were disturbed only by Walter's movement to the newly accessorized sofa, complete with pillows and blankets.
He muttered a 'Thank you' and I nodded excessively, shuffling back into the kitchen to retrieve a requested glass of water. When I turned back, he had stripped to his undershirt and I saw how slender he actually was. I imagined that if he worked out daily for a period of time – I gagged on my own fantasy before it was even completed.
I shoved the glass at him which he gulped down in a couple swallows. A nod of 'Thanks' and 'Good night' before he collapsed away from me, burying his head in the cushions like he had done the first night he slept here. I stood for a few more moments before retreating to lean against a wall, palm to forehead.
I realized suddenly that I was tired; it had just hit me like the drafty cold air from the window that couldn't close. Police sirens broke what little silence prevailed for ten minutes at a time, interrupting whatever train of thought drifted in and out of my brain. I stood and listened to the different siren tones, to the screams, to the shuffling and cursing, before I was able to focus my attention on the breathing of the man that lay awake.
He knew I was still there. I knew that he knew and still I could not budge from my post. I turned away and fingered the little pin that I had temporarily placed on the table. I wondered what he must have thought upon finding it. No matter. I took it in a fist and ascended, despite the lack of sleep I knew I would achieve tonight.
