Humping Hound
The storm wouldn’t let up until evening, just as Miles wouldn’t let up on occupying my thoughts.
I had no appetite for dinner, nor did I want to stay alone in this room.
Finishing the last pages of ‘A Pinch of Thrill,’ I was hopeful for the main character, Zoe Starr, to finally get what she wanted.
If only people could just talk and lay it all out there, their drama wouldn’t drag on for three hundred and sixty-five pages of emotional turmoil.
“Just tell him, Zoe!” I thought, exasperated.
Huh. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Was I any better at expressing myself?
But then, this was different—a fictional world and the real world were not the same.
Then a strange thought struck me: what if I, too, was a character in someone else’s story?
Or maybe, as Blake had suggested, the main character of my own?
And what if there you are, eyes roaming over these chapters, reading the neatly organised Times New Roman lines, a little annoyed with me that it took this long, this many pages, to admit my true feelings?
And there you are, in your comfortable armchair, or on a blanket on sun-dried London grass in August, or perhaps in a Berlin café on a rainy day because the sun hadn’t really found its way there yet, or on a plane excitedly heading to Positano, maybe, if you are lucky, to meet the very same copy of Antonio Banderas my father told us all about…
and you are just patiently, hopefully, awaiting the main plot twist to finally unfold.
If this were my book, I guess I too would like that.
I too would like to get what I want, and I too want a happy ending.
I turned the last page of the book with a warm smile on my face—the same warm smile I want you to have when you finish my story.
And I’m sorry for the spoiler, but it’s not like you hadn’t figured it all out along the way anyway.
Sadly, sooner than me. I’m going to be selfish, and I’m going to go for what I want.
I’m going to tell him that he’s what makes me feel peaceful and good about everything else in the world because I’m the lucky one he’s smiling at.
Well, smirking, most of the time, but that still counts.
And his smile is enough. And everything feels right.
Well, wish me luck!
***
Just before dinner, I found my sister in the living room. She held a phone in her hands, her demeanour suggesting the call hadn’t been a pleasant one.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Aunt Roberta,” she said, her voice tight.
“Ah.”
“She called to say she’s coming with Johnny Parris because she has no one to leave him with at home.”
“Johnny Paris?”
“Her dog.” She let out a frustrated sigh. “And it’s double ‘R.’”
“Huh?! Um…I thought you liked dogs?”
“That nasty little creature isn’t trained. He’s awful. Awful! He always barks and rubs against everything he sees. I don’t want my guests to be sexually harassed by…that!”
“Hmm.” I pressed my lips together. “We could think of some solutions.”
“Well, only inhumane ones come to my mind right now,” she replied with a dark chuckle, “resulting in an unfortunate disappearance.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry she’s our aunt.” Jo shrugged. “Anyway.” She exhaled deeply, catching the hint of concern on my face. “You good?”
“Yeah, I was just wondering if you could do me a favour?”
“Sure.”
“Do you mind, um, calling him?”
“Miles?”
“Yeah. Just to check—”
“If he got home okay?” she offered with a knowing smile.
“Well, yeah.” I pointed at the window, where a raging storm was in full flourish.
“Come on,” she beckoned me. “Let’s go find somewhere quiet.”
***
The phone rang a couple of times. I thought he probably wasn’t going to pick up, but on the third, long ring, his voice suddenly cracked through the speaker, making me let out a relieved sigh.
“Hello?”
“Miles? Can you hear me?”
“I can, Josephine. Did you miss me already?” His words made me smile.
“Of course I did,” Jo laughed, glancing at me. “I’m just calling to see if you got home safe?”
“Yeah. Everything’s fine. Thanks for checking in.”
“Oh! What a relief! Because we were worried.” We? “By the way, Florence is here next to me,” she said, catching me completely by surprise, my eyes momentarily widening.
“What are you doing?” I mouthed at her.
“Do you want me to pass her the phone?” she asked him, and I froze, afraid to hear what he was going to say next.
There was a pause at first, then he cleared his throat, saying, “I’m busy, Josephine. Was there anything else you wanted?”
“No, no,” she replied, eyeing me with a frown. “Just that.”
“Okay then. Well, I should go now.”
“Yeah, no worries,” she breathed, hanging up.
“Why would you say that?” I stared at her, demanding an explanation.
“Wow.” She raised her eyebrows. “You really got under his skin.”
And even though I was relieved to know he was alright, somehow, after this call the weight on my chest wouldn’t lift. “Yeah,” I sighed. “I figured that.”
***
The dinner this evening was uncharacteristically subdued.
Everyone, mouths full, relished the smoky char and tender hearts of the grilled artichokes.
The Italian salsa verde danced on my tongue with each savoury bite.
A few more days and I would be missing these daily exquisite meals, back to my empty apartment and the usual nightly takeout.
When the main course was served and more wine had been imbibed, the chattering hum of the room livened up.
I too managed to relax a little, shoulders comfortably pressed against my chair as I crossed my legs, fingers playing with the dark fabric of my jumpsuit, fingertips tracing the soft lines of the corded velvet.
Chantelle, wearing a similar bohemian robe dress as she had the other day, kept sneezing, the fluffy feathers seemingly having a mind of their own, distractingly brushing against her face with each bite.
“So,” she suddenly beamed, spitting out a few, “I’m excited about the bachelorette party tomorrow.
It’ll be so much fun!” Well, she was the one who insisted on us seeing the ‘Magic Mike’ show.
My mother, bless her heart, did indeed think it was a literal ‘trick in the hat’ kind of entertainment. Oh, boy, I let out a soft chuckle. She would be so surprised.
“What else is this show about?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Um.” I held back a grin as I exchanged a knowing glance with my sister. “Well…they also dance there.”
“Yeah, Mum,” Jo smiled. “You’re gonna love it.”
“Oh,” Francine chimed in, turning to face my mother, “I’m so excited you’re joining us for the show!”
“Well, I wouldn’t miss it for the world, dear,” my mum replied. “I’m looking forward to a fun night out with you girls.”
Francine chuckled. “But I have to admit, I’m a little gutted to miss out on whatever culinary masterpiece you had planned for us.”
“Why, thank you,” mum said, waving a dismissive hand, but very pleased with herself. “Your appreciation is noted.” She then offered a tight-lipped smile.
“Anything interesting planned for you boys?” Kimberly asked.
“Well,” my father proudly boasted, “we’ll have a great start at the golf club.” Um…sounds…fun?
“And then?” Jo stared curiously at Mark, her face mirroring my own disappointment.
“Then we’ll go to another club—” Blake winked at us. “—with a little more spice.”
“Okay,” Chantelle whispered, “looks like they’re going to have their own version of ‘Magic Mike.’”
“Imagine dad’s face.” Jo let out a quiet snort.
“Shh!” Mark shot us a warning glance.
“Will Miles be back by then?” Louis asked.
“Um, about that.” Mark hesitated, and to my surprise and disappointment, he uttered, “Not sure, actually.”
“But he…” I trailed off with a whisper, both Jo and my mother catching the confusion in my eyes. “He said he’d be back tomorrow.”
“Miles has always been a bit of a mystery, hasn’t he?” Louis remarked, eyes focused on the sauteed green beans, eagerly picking a few of the best ones.
“Yeah,” I breathed, goosebumps momentarily breaking out on my arms at another roar of thunder.