Chapter 20 Bruno
brUNO
Eventually, after a rambling story about how Gil planned to swim to school when he was old enough, which necessitated moving to a beach, Gil’s boots were on his feet and Bruno was hustling him out of their front door to the truck.
“Don’t open your lunch right now,” Bruno warned him, knowing that it would end up all over the floor.
“I WANT TO SEE WHAT I GOT!” Gil said, continuing to unzip the brand new insulated bag.
“It can be a surprise for lunch,” Bruno said desperately.
That only made him pause for a moment, and by the time Bruno had buckled himself in, the new zipper bag was open, the chips had fallen between the seats, and the cheesestick was in Gil’s lap.
“What did I just tell you?” Bruno growled.
“I wanted to be surprised NOW!”
Gil spent most of the ride straining against his car seat harness trying to reach lost food and it took Bruno several minutes to reassemble his lunch when they arrived at the elementary school.
“Save some for eating at Tiny Paws after school,” he reminded Gil, sending him to the front door with a big hug.
“I don’t have time to go home and make you another one. ”
“BYE!” Gil cried as soon as he’d squirmed from Bruno’s embrace.
Bruno had to hurry to his office, cursing the traffic and the parking, and while he wasn’t late for his first appointment, he wasn’t early enough to go over all of his notes the way he liked to.
He spent the entire day feeling like he was playing catch-up after that, and although he was good at shutting out distractions to give clients his whole attention, Clarice filled his thoughts again at every opportunity.
He kept remembering the way she laughed, how animated she got when she forgot to be shy.
She was so complicated, Bruno thought, and he would never tire of peeling her layers away, and at the same time, she was refreshingly genuine.
He could always tell when someone was being deceitful, whether with him or with themselves.
Clarice had a level of purity that Bruno hadn’t expected, like he could see straight into the beautiful, bright core of her.
It was intoxicating.
And it was distracting. Bruno was nearly late to an appointment because he was stirring his coffee and wondering if he remembered how to make love to a woman when his alarm went off.
He startled, splashed himself with coffee, and then had to make do with damp pants while he guided a widow through frustrations with her neighbor that were really more of an emotional deflection of her real grief and feelings of helplessness.
He was glad to send his last client of the morning out the door with a gentle reminder to do the journaling that he thought would be helpful for her and rush to get Gil from kindergarten to Tiny Paws.