Chapter 9 Alexander
Alexander
It’s midnight and, of course, I’m wide awake. I normally wouldn’t go to bed for another seven hours or so. It gets harder to adjust every time I come home. So instead of being in bed, I’m sitting in the living room, staring at the new riddle on my phone.
A connection, it does make
But not over a lake
Confusion with a song
But you might have it wrong
“Oh! I’m an idiot,” I yell.
Mr. Brown rushes into the room, apparently having been nearby. “Sir? Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I was just calling myself an idiot.”
“Carry on, then.” I didn’t miss his tiny, cheeky smile as he turned from the room. He acts like he doesn’t care, but I know he does. Wonder why he’s up at this hour.
I head to bed, where instead of tossing and turning, I pick up my phone again. I’ll leave Ivy a message for her to see when she wakes up.
ALEXANDER
Good morning, beautiful Ivy.
ALEXANDER
It’s Alexander. I’ve been thinking about you and would love to see you tomorrow (or today, if you’re reading this when I assume you will.)
Three dots start dancing above the keyboard. She’s up!
BEAUTIFUL IVY
Can’t sleep either?
ALEXANDER
Nope. Haven’t got on London time just yet.
ALEXANDER
So… tomorrow?
BEAUTIFUL IVY
I came on this vacation with my family. I can’t just abandon them. But maybe you could join us for some sightseeing tomorrow afternoon? I know it might be boring to a local, but plan to go to the London Eye and London Bridge. I mean, who knows what we’ll get up to, but that’s the plan.
Perfect. I need to go to Tower Bridge. I wonder if she knows she’s going to Tower Bridge. I’m sure she doesn’t actually mean London Bridge.
ALEXANDER
It’s a date.
BEAUTIFUL IVY
Is it, though?
ALEXANDER
It is in my mind.
ALEXANDER
Do you think you’ll be falling asleep soon?
BEAUTIFUL IVY
No. I’m not tired enough, and you’re making my mind spin.
I’m making her mind spin. I love it.
ALEXANDER
Am I? *Grinning emoji*
ALEXANDER
Can I give you a ring?
BEAUTIFUL IVY
I assume you’re not meaning a physical ring… so sure.
I shift to sit against my headboard, then hit call. She takes her time answering, and it makes me wonder what she’s doing.
“Hello.” There’s a grittiness to her voice that wasn’t there this afternoon.
I want to hear her every time she sounds like this.
What is it about this woman? I’ve never felt this kind of unexplainable need to be near someone.
And for this to happen with someone who doesn’t make sense?
Someone I basically know nothing about, who lives across the country from me.
If I stepped outside of myself and looked at the situation, I’d think I was crackers.
“Hello. Did you all have a nice dinner?” I ask, trying to collect my thoughts. What am I doing? What’s the purpose of this call? To me pursuing her at all?
“We did. I had authentic fish and chips for the first time, and let me tell you, it’s a good thing I don’t live here. That’s the only thing I would ever want to eat.”
“Even for breakfast?”
“Sure. I’d turn it into small fish bites with hash browns. But it would basically be the same.”
“I guess it’s good for your health that you aren’t here indefinitely. How long will you be here?”
“Nine more days.”
“What will you do when you get home? What is your typical day?”
“Well, when I get home, I’ll be dealing with renovations from the fire. So not really what I do on a typical day.”
“I’m sure that’s difficult and frustrating, but maybe it’s a chance to start again and fix things that you didn’t love before? I don’t know. Just trying to find something positive about it. Which is easy for me to say.” What am I doing? Stop babbling.
“I still wish it hadn’t happened, but I’m glad I can make some improvements. I thought ... I might as well.”
“Definitely. So once it’s up and running again, will you be there most days? Are you the owner and manager? Or do you manage from afar? I’m friends with a couple who own a restaurant, and there is always one of them there. It seems like a lot of work.”
“It definitely is. Ultimately, I’d love to have managers I trust to take over a lot of the time, but I have a little trouble with that. With turning over something so important to me. It’s a lot for me.”
“You have trouble trusting people?”
“Yeah. I have trouble feeling like I can count on people. It was probably five years before I felt like I could really trust Micah.”
“For what it’s worth, I’ve always been very dependable.”
Ivy laughs. “That’s good to know. Maybe in five years, I’ll agree.”
“I hope it doesn’t take quite that long.” I smile as I hear her moving around on her bed. At least that’s what I assume is happening. “I love your accent.”
“You know, I was fixin’ to say the same thing to you. And just your voice in general. I think I could listen to you read a refrigerator manual.”
I give a surprised laugh. “I think it would eventually put you to sleep.”
“Maybe that’s what I need to get to sleep tonight. Have a manual handy?”
“I don’t, but I have a mystery novel by the bed,” I say, reaching for the book. “I’ll read you to sleep.”
She laughs in response.
“I’m serious. I was going to read anyway.”
I hear her yawn. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I don’t mind.”
“You might spoil me, and I’ll never be able to fall asleep on my own again.”
“I’m counting on it.”
There’s a pause, and I just know she’s smiling, shaking her head. “Alright, read to me, Alex.”
Alex. No one has called me Alex since secondary school. I love that she did. I hope she’ll do it again.
“Are you settled in?” I ask.
“Mmm hmm.”
Half an hour passes before my asking "are you awake" receives no response. My heart pounds as I end the call. What I’m feeling doesn’t make sense. I’ve known this woman for less than a day. And logistically, the odds stack against us, but I can’t help but be hopeful.
Before I try to sleep, I text Grey. I want to tell her about Ivy, because I know that Grey, ever the optimist, will pump me up even further.
Late the next morning I wake and join Mrs. Brown in the kitchen. She has breakfast waiting (including baked beans) and asks me if I’m ever going to be up at a normal breakfast time. The answer is, who knows?
“How is your father?” I ask as I settle at the kitchen table. Mrs. Brown and I speak on the phone once a month when I’m in the US. During our last conversation she said her father was in the hospital recovering from an appendectomy.
“He’s recovered well. Thank you for asking.” She pats my arm as she bends to join me at the table. “What do you have planned for the day? Any riddles to solve?”
“I don’t have anything planned until this afternoon. I’m meeting someone at Tower Bridge. That was the answer to my latest riddle.”
“That seems odd given how personal the last one was.”
“I’m going into this assuming there will be neither rhyme nor reason. But I’ll keep you up to date.”
We continue to chat as I finish my breakfast, then I swim some laps in the indoor pool.
I smile at the children’s toys sitting in a bin in the corner.
The Browns must have had their grandchildren over for a swim.
Good. I’m glad it’s getting some use. If you ask me, this is the best part of the house.
I wonder if Ivy and her family would want to come for a swim.