Chapter 23 ~ Alexander #2
Alexander: Good night, Mrs. Russo. No reply.
Wednesday:
Alexander: Good morning, Mrs. Russo. No reply, but I’m still smiling at my phone like an idiot.
Today I am waiting impatiently. This one is a little different. I got her an edible flower arrangement with caramel and chocolate dipping sauce, a Harry Potter bath robe, and matching pajamas.
The delivery man arrives. She opens the door, smiles politely at him, takes the box and when he’s out of sight, she glares at the house.
She moves the box to her hip and gives the back of the house the finger.
I think she thinks I’m watching her with the camera on the patio.
She knows it’s there. And I laugh. Oh, my bunny is feisty.
Alexander: Good night, Mrs. Russo. No reply.
Thursday:
Alexander: Good morning, Mrs. Russo. No reply.
I sip my coffee and pull the curtain back. It’s 3:00 p.m. and the delivery should pull up any minute. Today I got her 20 packages of Reed’s Butterscotch Candy rolls, a box of cinnamon rolls from Cinnabon, a Harry Potter jumper set for the baby that says, “Snuggle this Muggle,” and all three bibs.
The delivery man arrives; she opens the door, smiles, takes the box and glares at the house again. She looks up at the sky and huffs out a breath I can see in the chilly air and slams the door. I laugh out loud again. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.
I’m sitting at her window again tonight. It’s well past 10:00 p.m. and her lights are still on. I dig out my phone.
Alexander: Good night, Mrs. Russo.
Three little bubbles appeared on my phone.
Isabella: Nite
Fuck yea!! I pump my fist in the air and go to my room. It’s not much, but I at least got one word back.
Friday:
Alexander: Good morning, Mrs. Russo.
I waited for those bubbles, but nothing.
I slump in my desk chair. I bite my lip and sigh.
Her delivery is this morning. I wanted to keep her off track, so the times varied.
I look at my watch. It’s close to ten, so I leave my desk and jog up to her room to take my seat.
I rub my hands together. She has to break soon and text me after this one.
The truck parks, and she has already opened the door. She must have heard him pull up. She does her usual smile and then she takes the big pink box with the white bow into the house.
I got her a huge Harry Potter sweatshirt she can grow into with Gryffindor leggings, a Gryffindor scarf, and a huge box of Caramel Chews.
I dig out my phone from my pocket and wait for the bubbles to appear.
Nothing. Suddenly, her front door flies open and she’s marching across the yard towards the house in her HP slippers.
Oh, shit! I scramble from the window and b-Line it to the stairs.
I’m on the second landing when she storms through the foyer straight to my office.
She doesn’t even see me. Her little fists are clenched, her jaw is tight, and her eyes are blazing green.
I shouldn’t feel this way, but she makes my cock hard when she is all mad and pouty, like an angry kitten.
I sauntered down the stairs and watch her literally kick open the office door.
“Alexander!” she bellows. I laugh. Now who’s yelling all the time? Carlos comes flying around the corner and I put my finger to my lips, shh.
He glares at me and walks over to Isabella, who is stomping around my office.
“Izzy? Are you all right?” Carlos’s voice is low and quiet.
“No, I’m not, okay? Where is that butterscotch asshole?” It takes everything to hold my laugh in.
“Butterscotch? Izzy, who are you talking about?”
“Alexander. Get him here now, Carlos.”
Carlos is backing out my door and looks over at me. “WTF?” he mouths at me. I smile and wave him off. I go to the door and my bunny is pacing in front of my desk. She has on her HP slippers I got her, and she has on that cream sweater I love on her with simple black leggings.
She sees me and freezes and then her cheeks turn pink, and she raises one eyebrow, her teeth are gritted together, and she points at me.
“What the fuck is the game, Alexander? Huh?”
I casually walk past her and sit in my chair. “No game, Isabella. Just showering my wife with the gifts she deserves.”
“Oh please, I don’t need or want gifts. What’s with the butterscotch pudding every night? Did you tell Rose I wanted butterscotch pudding?”
I smile and fold my hands on top of the desk. “Yes, she said you’ve eaten it every meal, so I assumed you liked it.”
She crosses her arms over her little belly, and that makes me want to kiss her tummy.
“Oh, so you’re watching my meals now?”
“I watch everything you do, love. I can’t help it.”
She drops her arms at her sides and leans over my desk. “Don’t say that, like ever!” She swipes her hand in the air.
“Say what, bunny?”
She points at me now, “Or that. I’m not your anything.”
I smile at her. She is so goddamn cute when she is mad.
“You are my bunny, always will be. But I want to show you something.”
I get up and leave. If she doesn’t want to follow, that’s okay too, but she is so mad she will. I sneak a look over my shoulder and, sure enough, she follows me to the library. I open the door and she stomps past me and stops.
“My babies.” She breathes and hurries to the shelves and plant stands littering the room. She gently touches their leaves, tests the soil, and smells the leaves.
“When did they arrive?” She smells a flower on a plant, and she’s smiling now. Jesus, who knew plants made her smile? I should have been sending her plants.
“Sunday, but I didn’t want to bother you. Rose has been looking after them all week. It’s too cold to move them to your house right now. I didn’t want them to freeze.”
She stands up and looks at me; her face bright and happy, and my chest hurts and I rub it.
“I will look after them. Some of them require misting every day. This one needs to move. It is too sunny here for her.”
She picks up a pot and starts to rearrange the plants, so I step up and, without thinking, she hands me a pot. All the while, she talks away, ignoring the fact that she wanted to rip my face off three minutes ago.
“My Ivy needs to go into filtered light.” She switches the pot in my hand, and I follow her.
“This is a Purple Clover. It’s actually an outdoor plant and considered a weed in some countries, but I think she’s beautiful.
” She holds the pot up for me to see, turning it in her hand like a prize, and I smile, and she squints her eyes closed, scrunching up her nose in a grin. She moves another pot into my hands.
“This is a Monstera Adansonii, also called a Swiss cheese plant.” She strokes the leaves. “I love the name. That’s why I got it.” She giggles, “Swiss Cheese, don’t you think that’s funny?”
I am absolutely captivated by her. I don’t know shit about plants, but I will follow her all day with my arms full of pots as long as she keeps talking.
I clear my throat, “And what does Mr. Swiss Cheese need?”
She smiles up at me and moves another pot to the shelf beside her.
“She needs to be watered when the top inch of her soil is dry. She also loves the humidifier and indirect sunlight. It needs to be misted every day.”
She moves another plant into my arms, and I grab it quickly before she drops it. “This is Hoya Krimson Queen.” She beams at the ugly-looking thing, and I smile quickly as she looks at me.
“She needs to be watered only when she dries out.” She looks at me, her expression serious now, and says, “She can’t be over-watered, or she will get root rot and die.”
She has a pout on her lips as she looks around the room, and she looks at me with concern all over her face.
“I’m sorry Alexander, but I’m going to have to come in here every day and take care of my babies.
Thank you for the shelves, but they are all wrong.
Rose did a great job, but only I know what they need.
I won’t bother you, I'll just pop in and water them and go home.” She bends over and whispers to her Swiss cheese plant, “Momma’s back, my babies. I’ll get you all in your right spots.”
Well holy fuck, if I knew she would be in this house every fucken day, I’d have told her on Sunday her plants were here.
I could have seen her all week, damn it.
Not that I minded sending the gifts; that was what drew her in here in the first place; but to see her every day.
I’ll be hanging out in the library a lot more.
She is moving pots, and I have two in my arms and one hanging off haphazardly in my hand.
“Isabella?”
“Humm?” She moves one plant down a shelf and grabs the one in my hand. I hold out the one plant and she takes it, not looking at me at all.
I don’t know why I say it or where this thought even came from but fuck it. “Do you think we should get a designer in here? Maybe make this a living library?”
She stops and looks up at me. The shock on her face freaks me out a bit, and then the fucken sun comes out, and I am blinded by her smile. The real smile, the one she gives everyone else but me.
She claps and bounces on her feet. “Oh Alexander, that’s a great idea? Oh, do you hear that, my lovelies? A living library.”
Then she stops, her body going stiff and looks up at me with that look, almost a scowl, but not quite. “Is this a trick? What’s your game?” She raises one eyebrow and hugs the pot protectively to her chest as if I’m going to grab it from her hand and throw it on the ground.
“No trick.” I hold up my one free hand. “I just thought it would be better than trying to move all this. Plus, I’ve gotten used to all the greenery in here.”
She squints her eyes tight and purses her lips to the side, studying me.
“For real?” She scowls at me.
“For real. Let’s make a living library.” I hunch up my shoulders and drop them. “I think it is a great project.”
“Okay, but I’m not hiring a designer; I’m an artist and a baby plant momma. I want to build it.”