Chapter 11: Sea Change
I flipped and flopped like a fish out of water, the sheets tangled around my knees. At around four in the morning I decided it was useless just to lie there awake upsetting myself.
The pain in his eyes was fresh in my memory as I pulled cleaning supplies out the kitchen cabinets. In times of duress, I was known to ease the trapped feeling that was companion to it through copious amounts of housework.
Our evening had been going swimmingly up until his confession. I knew people fell in love at different rates, but close to a month and a half seemed awfully quick. It just wasn't possible, in my mind, to know someone well enough to love them in that span of time. Bonds like that formed in deep, lasting relationships took several months, even years to cultivate. Not two dates and a mutual affinity for 1930s screwball comedies. We'd probably have gone on more dates had we not been so busy, to be fair.
The fatigue I felt from the hours I kept at the hospital coursed through my arms as I scrubbed the counters and sink, but I pressed on.
An epiphany hit as I was dusting the living room. For the majority of my adult years, I yearned for solid ground in which I could sink my roots. I had found it on the work front, but now I needed to find it personally as well.
Even if I had rebuffed him, James showed no signs of leaving. Maybe my earlier thoughts were simply deflection. Could he be the stable force I yearned for?
I made a decision to not call until nighttime, thinking it would give ample time for space and to lick his wounds.
My apartment was scrubbed, dusted, and polished to gleaming by early afternoon. An at home spa day was just the reward. I ran the tub and filled it with violet bubble bath, climbing out of the dusty, dirty pajamas I was wearing, tossing them in the hamper.
The phone rang as I dried off. Fumbling to keep my towel up, and also with the keypad buttons due to my freshly washed hands; I struggled a bit to answer, but managed.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Oi querida!" I'd recognize that Portuguese accent anywhere.
"Oi mãe!" I replied, a smile in my voice. "God, it's so good to hear from you. How are things at home?"
"Eh… they're good. Same old same old." Mom said. "How about you? How's the new job?"
"The job is wonderful. I'm really happy. You've caught me on my day off, actually." I said.
"Good!" she said. "They treating you well?"
"Yes, Ma." I said. "Very. I make forty dollars an hour."
She whistled. "Damn! You're really living now!" she added, laughing.
"Finally." I said, laughing too.
"So…" she said. "Anybody catch your eye yet?"
"Actually, yeah." I said, smiling broadly.
"Oooh! That's my girl!" she exclaimed. "Who is he?"
I cleared my throat. "My boss."
"Get out!" she said, still excited.
"Nope, I'm serious. His name is James Wilson." I said.
"What's he like?" she asked.
"Tall, about 6'1", brown hair, brown eyes, a smile that lights up a room and cheekbones that could cut diamonds, sort of soft spoken." I said. "He's a good bit older than me, too…"
"Oh that's no big deal!" she said." As long as he treats you right."
"He does. Like a princess, really." I admitted.
"Excellent." She said. "And he sounds really good looking, too."
"He is." I said, blushing.
"How long have you been seeing him?" she asked.
"Almost a month and a half now." I said.
"That's terrific!" she said. "You'll bring him home to meet me soon, right?"
"We'll see." I said. "If we get serious enough I will."
"You've been wary with your heart for too long." Mom said with a sigh. "Not every guy is out to hurt you."
My tone changed to a quieter one. "I know…I just don't want to get led down the primrose path again, you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, querida. I do. That last boy…the Army deserter…" she said, ending the word almost scornfully. "I was so glad when you saw him for who he was."
"Uh huh." I said, disdainfully too. "I was just thankful I didn't get too close. Speaking of…"
"This James… he loves you. Doesn't he?" It was as if she took the words from my mouth.
"…Yeah." I sighed. "Well, to be honest he said he was 'falling for me'."
"Same thing." Mom said. "How did you respond?"
"I said that though I like him and care for him, I don't feel the same way, not yet. He was…justifiably hurt." I said. "I feel terrible about it, really. I haven't been able to stop thinking of him all day, what this means for the relationship." I said, holding the phone to my ear as I slid into my bathrobe.
"Then on some level you must love him, if he's affecting you that deeply." She said.
"Ma…no way… I don't…" I protested, my walls from before going up again.
"I can hear it in your voice." She said. "You love him. And that's okay. Don't be afraid of it."
"It's too soon, though. I can't be." I argued.
"The heart wants who it wants, when it wants. It's not something you can control, fofinha." She said.
I thought about it for a few moments. What she said made perfect sense. Why are mothers always right about these things?
"You're right." I finally said.
"Now it's up to you to tell him, when you're ready to." She said.
I agreed, and all through the rest of our conversation, I was half listening to the dialogue in my head, figuring out a way to say what I felt.
In the midst of making lunch, a grilled chicken salad with bleu cheese crumbles, my phone's text notification went off. It was from James. I shook my head, a smirk playing on my lips. He was nothing if not persistent.
I know you said you'd call me. I'm sorry for not waiting. I just…I miss you.
It's all right. I typed back. I'll call you tonight. It'll be nice to hear your voice. In the meantime, I want to apologize for last night. I was rather abrupt.
You have nothing to be sorry for, honey. He responded. Looking forward to tonight.
I sent back a 'Me too' before eating my salad. He really did care. He went out of his way for me more than once. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. And yeah, I loved him for it, and so much more. I loved the way he smiled, especially that smile that was meant for moments when we were alone. I loved his voice, both when he spoke and sang, how his face scrunched up when he laughed, how caring and diligent he was with his patients, I loved the way he rolled up his sleeves before tucking into a large pile of paperwork, his chivalrous manner, the little frown that crossed his features when he was deep in thought…
Given my little performance the previous night, I was worried that if I told him right off, he'd think I was giving him mixed signals. The moment in which I told him had to be perfect.
All of a sudden, the heavens opened up. A heavy, sodding winter rain poured and sloshed against the windows. The apartment became very dark. I lit candles for some light and to add to the day's theme of relaxation, also putting the kettle on to boil.
Carrying a large purple mug full of vanilla almond tea, I walked to my bookshelf, picking up a biography about Rita Hayworth that an Internet friend had suggested, and snuggled up on my bed.
When I looked up from the book, the rain had stopped, my mug was empty, and the moon hung low in the sky.
I rolled over, grabbing my phone from the night table, pulling James' number up. It rang a time and a half before he picked up.
"Hi, sweetheart." He answered.
"Hey darlin'." I said, returning the cutesy volley.
"How was your day off?" he asked.
"It was good. I spent it cleaning, and then relaxing. I was just finishing reading when I called." I said. "How was your day?"
"That sounds great! Uh…mine was good. I went in for a little while…one of the fellows needed some help with charting." He said. "Then I came home…ate some more of that fantastic macaroni and watched an Ingrid Bergman film that happened to be playing on the RetroPlex channel."
"Nice!" I said. "Listen…about last night…"
"Kate…we've been over this. You don't have to be sorry for anything. I'm not holding a gun to your head saying you have to fall for me…" he said.
"I know, but I could have handled it better. That's all." I admitted.
He let out a small sigh. "You were scared, that's understandable. Maybe you still are… I don't know."
"I was scared, no question. Now, I'm starting to not be so much." I said.
"Good." He said. "I don't want to lose you."
I bit my lip and blushed. "I don't want to lose you either. I'm enjoying this…us…"
"I am too." I could hear the smile in his voice.
A moment of silence passed between us, when he spoke again.
"I wanted to tell you…the board meeting is Monday. The one that I want you to talk about teamwork." He said.
"Oh yeah…that…" My tone was decidedly sheepish.
"You'll be fine." He assured me. "If the board will listen to anyone it'll be you."
"Even though I'm brand new in their eyes?" I asked.
"Even though you're brand new in their eyes." He repeated. "You've got a charisma about you…one that belies your newness. And… you've got Marie's rescue and marked improvement as a prime example of being calm under pressure."
"You do have a point…" I said. "Should I dress up for this or will my work clothes be sufficient?"
"I'd dress up…" He advised. "I know you'll pull together a hell of an outfit."
"Thanks." I said in a giggle.
"Can I be totally honest?" he asked after a beat.
"I thought your name was James… but if you wanna play a role…" I teased.
"Very amusing." He said in a chortle. "But in all seriousness…I…I couldn't stop thinking about you today. Wondering how you were. Kate…I met you and I felt…feel funny…good..."
I blushed again. "Aww, you're sweet."
"I mean it." He said.
"I know you do, James. And I couldn't stop thinking about you either. I feel the same way, good, I mean." I replied. It wasn't a total admission of my feelings, but it was as close as I was going to get.
He let out a happy chuckle. "That is wonderful to hear…"
"Yeah." I said, smiling widely, relieved that he didn't feel like I was sending conflicting messages. "You've also built yourself quite the fan club. Christine and my mom want to meet you."
"Oh really?" he asked. "I look forward to it when the time comes…"
"Definitely." I said, sounding a little tired. He noticed.
"Well honey, I'm gonna let you go… let you get some rest. If you have any questions tomorrow about the meeting… just give me a call." He said.
"Okay. I'll talk to you soon." I said, feeling lighter than I had for the majority of the day.
"Yep. Good night…sweet dreams." He said in his usual placid way.
"You too. Good night." I said. We both hung up at the same time.
I nestled deep into my blankets, a tingling sensation rushing through my body. A change had taken hold within me. Instead of being shy and careful, I was ready to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance, so to speak, in both life and romance.