Chapter 9 #4
I took in a controlled and delicious lungful of cold air before looking at him and replying. ‘It wasn’t a stupid idea; it was a perfectly logical one. I mean, you bumped into a speechwriter the very week you needed help with a speech. It would have been weirder if you hadn’t asked for my help.’
‘You promise you’re not just saying that?’
‘I swear on the battery life of my noise-cancelling headphones.’
‘Wow, that’s one hell of a pledge, dude.’
‘No one’s ever called me “dude” before.’
‘How’s it sitting?’
‘Nicely.’
He grinned through tight lips, exhaling through his nose and casting his eyes down. He was still feeling bad.
I placed my hand on his forearm. ‘Ethan, it’s fine.
I’m fine. That – this – has nothing to do with you or the speech or anything like that.
It’s just that this restaurant looks scarily like a place I went to during a time in my life I’d rather not think about right now.
You weren’t to know this would happen – nobody was. And then I saw… the egg.’ I shuddered.
‘Egg?’
‘Yeah, I hate eggs. Like, really, really hate them. It’s practically a phobia.’
‘Oh, I have plenty of those.’
‘Eggs, though?’
‘Yeah, okay, that’s a new one on me.’
The member of staff appeared behind us, with a blanket and two hot chocolates in takeaway cups.
‘How you folks doing out here?’
Ethan opened his mouth to reply, but I spoke for myself.
‘Much better, thanks. Jetlag, mainly. Just needed some fresh air.’
‘No explanation needed. Your table’s waiting for you whenever you’re ready, but keep yourselves warm in the meantime, yeah?’
‘Amazing, thanks so much.’
‘Yeah, thanks, man,’ Ethan added.
Ethan draped the blanket around my shoulders, turning his coat collar up when he sat back down next to me.
‘Ethan, c’mon. There’s plenty of blanket for two here.’
I shrugged it off my shoulders and laid it over both of our knees instead, as if we were a couple of pensioners sitting on a seaside promenade eating fish and chips, fending off seagulls.
He moved an inch or so closer for maximum blanket coverage.
‘Thank you,’ he said, taking a sip of hot chocolate.
The sugar from my own drink was beginning to enter my bloodstream, along with its warmth.
For a couple of minutes, we sat there in silence, taking occasional sips, the distant, everyday sounds of the city making me feel calmer.
Yes, I’d had a panic attack – my first one in months. But the world hadn’t ended. I was okay.
‘I bet you really wish you hadn’t sat at that coffee shop table yesterday now, huh?’ I said, my heart rate now fully settled into its regular rhythm.
He smoothed the blanket over his knees.
‘Zero regrets from my point of view,’ he said, keeping his focus on his lap.
‘Oh. Thanks.’
Ethan finally looked up, making eye contact and smiling shyly. His gaze felt intense, but not in the usual way. It was as if he was seeing me properly for the first time. And perhaps he sensed that I was beginning to see him and all his mysterious complexities, too.
‘Umm, Flora?’ he said, glancing down at my mouth.
Shit, are we about to kiss? I’m kinda… up for it?
‘Yeah?’ I said quietly, briefly moistening my mouth with my tongue.
‘Oh, nothing. You had some hot chocolate above your top lip but you just licked it off.’
Lol, as if this man would want to kiss me.
I extracted my phone from my pocket and checked my reflection in selfie mode, wiping away a tiny brown smudge that my tongue had missed.
‘I think I’m good now?’ I pressed my lips together and angled my chin towards Ethan in an exaggerated manner.
‘Ha, yeah, clean as a whistle.’
I opened up the Wi-Fi settings and connected to the restaurant’s network – Mum and Anneka would definitely be awake by now and I needed to figure out when and where I’d be meeting them. My phone vibrated immediately with a message from Anneka on the group chat.
Anneka:
No fixed plans today so take your time! Me and Mum are heading to Bloomingdales and Macy’s after another McGriddle-based brekky, but realise a shopping spree is probably your idea of hell. We’ll message you afterwards and figure out where to meet up after lunch?
The relief that flooded my body felt delicious but deceitful at the same time.
‘Do you need to head off?’ Ethan asked, as I tapped out a reply to confirm the loose plan.
I repocketed my phone. ‘The opposite, actually: the next few hours have just opened up.’
‘You were due to meet up with someone?’
Here was my opportunity to tell him the truth: how I’d been brought to New York very much against my will by my random-as-fuck family.
How this was their misjudged effort to heal my broken heart after my fiancé dumped me the week of our wedding.
How I was sleeping in a bathtub and… okay, no, he definitely didn’t need to know any of this.
‘Just an old friend I haven’t seen since they moved over here.’
‘You’re in New York and they’ve bailed on you?’ He sounded outraged on my behalf.
‘She’s just getting over a nasty cold. We’ll meet up tomorrow instead.’
‘Sweet,’ Ethan replied. Was I imagining the tinge of relief in his voice upon learning that the (fictional) person was female?
Either way, I silently thanked my subconscious for sending Ethan subliminal ‘I am available’ messages on my behalf.
Shit, I was massively and genuinely attracted to this man, wasn’t I?
I needed to redivert back onto professional territory, stat.
‘Shall we get back to the speech?’
‘Only if you’re absolutely sure you’re okay to keep going with this?’
‘Scout’s honour. I mean, I’ve never been a Scout, but Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird is one of my favourite characters of all time. I could never betray her.’
Ethan threw his head back and laughed. ‘Flora Bell, you are full of multitudes.’
‘I am! And I’m very happy to be at your multitudinous service.’
He took a final swig of his hot chocolate before stretching his neck this way and that. ‘Right, then, let’s get back to it. Wanna go back inside or would you prefer to go elsewhere?’
I thought about those plates full of scrambled egg. At this point, I knew even just the knowledge that they were nearby would tip me back over the edge.
‘Can we maybe just sit out here a little longer before we head elsewhere? I’m so sorry, it’s just that—’
‘This place isn’t the one, is it?’
‘No, it’s not. Like I said, it’s not about you, or anything…’
‘Thanks for clarifying that. Right, let me get our stuff and pay for these drinks and I’ll be right back.’
He returned within a couple of minutes, with both backpacks, both coats and my two precious notebooks.
‘Hot chocolates were on the house!’ He seemed genuinely delighted by this.
‘Nice, the panic attack really paid off.’
‘That sense of humour of yours really is a survival thing, isn’t it?’
‘Yup. Right, let’s pick up where we left off and see if we can find a narrative thread for the speech. Things will get easier after that, trust me. So, we were talking about…’
Ah, shit, we’d been talking about that weird dinner when he was asked to be best man. I switched tracks to one of my trusted tactics.
‘Actually, let’s try something else for a second. I’ve got this app I use when I need to think of an unexpected way into a story.’
I unlocked my phone and navigated to the what3words app, still grateful for the restaurant’s Wi-Fi connection.
‘Right. Whenever I need to redirect my thinking, I need a random word. And my favourite way to find one is by using this app, which identifies every single three-metre square on the planet with a combination of three words. For example, earlier in Cory’s coffee shop I reckon we were roughly in…
this square here, which is represented by the words…
ha… “giving, alive, artist”. Sounds like a pretty accurate description of you – from the little I know, anyway. ’
‘Let me see. Oh yeah, I know this app. And I’m definitely alive.’ He handed my phone back.
‘You’re a pretty generous artist from what I know, too. Cory told me you don’t charge him for any of your illustrations?’
Ethan shrugged. ‘He’s been good to me. Caffeine is payment enough.’
‘I’m not sure Cory agrees.’
‘I do okay, financially. Corner Brew’s been on the verge of closure since the Covid years, so I’m happy to do what I can to help them out.’
Without even realising what I was doing, my hand was resting on one of his, my thumb rubbing the soft hair below his knuckles with care.
It was something I used to do with Will when we watched telly together on the sofa.
I quickly withdrew my hand, using it to tuck an imaginary loose strand of hair behind my ear.
I refocused on my phone and very deliberately didn’t look at how Ethan had reacted to my skin on his.
‘Umm, so, think of somewhere that means something to you and your brother.’ I was still staring at the app, my face burning with embarrassment.
Ethan thought for a couple of moments before replying. ‘The Space Needle in Seattle. One of our best childhood holidays was a road trip across the States, mainly so we could ride the monorail.’
‘Ooh, I love a monorail, although the only one I’ve ever been on is at a British theme park called Alton Towers.’
‘It’s like being in the future, right?’
‘Yeah, even though most of the world is actually way more futuristic than monorails these days.’
‘Self-driving cars need to get in the bin.’
‘Agreed. Anyway… the Space Needle,’ I said, getting back on topic and navigating to the location on the app. ‘Here we go. Tap a few squares and see if any of the words jump out at you.’
I passed him my phone, and watched his face focus on the task in hand, his brow gently furrowed as he tapped the screen. Suddenly, his face lit up.
‘This one! “Paint, shark, flying”.’
‘Tell me why.’ I clicked open my pen, ready to take notes.
‘Well, me and Rick were both pretty creative when we were growing up. I always preferred working neatly and carefully. Whereas Rick used to chuck paint at a canvas and make as much mess as possible.’
‘Nice. Is he still an artist?’