Chapter 19
Sven
nineteen
. . .
I’ve fucked everything up.
Case in point: my sourdough starter was left out a little too long in the direct path of a sunbeam, and it burst the glass jar holding it captive.
Also: Rupert hasn’t said “good girl” to me in the four days I’ve been home. I think she’s upset with me for leaving her with Brigitte, even though my bird-sitter is always coming in and cleaning even during the offseason.
Oh yes: And Brad keeps texting me, threatening me and insulting me in the same message. If it wasn’t such a pain to find a new agent and train them to deal with me, I might switch. But I don’t have the patience or the time for that.
All of this is eclipsed, of course, by the fact that I haven’t talked to Vanessa in way too long. She hasn’t called or texted or emailed or sent a carrier pigeon since I sent her the note about giving her space. How much damn space does she need, an entire fucking planet?
Blowing out a breath, I knead the bread dough with all of my frustration. It’s not her fault that we’re in different places. Genuinely, I am fine with giving her space. I just don’t like the silence.
I guess now I know how she felt at the beginning when I wasn’t texting her back.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
When my bread comes out of the oven, I package it and head across the street. Hildy opens the door right away, pulling me into the house by the front of my sweatshirt.
“You have been avoiding me,” she scolds.
“I’ve been busy,” I deflect.
“You have never been too busy for me.”
With a sigh, I hold out the bread. “It’s complicated. Do you have time for some tea?”
She scowls. “If you insist.”
As she fills the kettle and pulls two mugs out of the cabinet, she waves her hand toward the bread box, where a loaf of seeded pumpernickel is waiting.
“Make a sandwich,” she says. “You look hungry.”
Shaking my head, I do as she says, pulling out butter, sliced meat, and cheese. I’m used to this. She’s been feeding me since the moment we met when I bought the place. I’m not sure how or why she realized I was starving for more than simple human contact. Though she’s from Germany where I am Swedish, we both understand how it is to be a foreigner in a new country, adapting to everything new at once. She’s my home, in a way the building I live in is just a house. I’ll surely miss her when I have to leave Boston, whenever that may be.
As she requested, I make a sandwich. And then I make a second, and a third, until we have a plate full of open-faced sandwiches on freshly sliced bread.
“Is Brigitte here?” I ask as the kettle whistles, and she pulls it off the stove. I bring the two cups to the table, and she brings the kettle, pouring water.
Hildy shakes her head. “She’s at the university.”
Her niece is in her final year of medical school, and in her spare time, she comes across the street to take care of Rupert. When Hildy realized I needed a bird watcher, she organized for Brigitte to stay at my place across the street and take care of my bird—and the house—while I was out.
“Did you call her?” Hildy asks, and it takes me a second to realize she means Brigitte.
“No. Should I?”
“Aren’t you looking for her?”
I shake my head. “I thought I might need a woman’s perspective.”
“Oh?” Her eyebrows go up. “On what?”
“How to make Vanessa not need more space.”
She pauses. “And who is Vanessa?”
“My girlfriend?” I think she still is, at least…
She frowns.
“What?”
“I rather thought…” She trails off.
“Tell me.”
“I always thought one day you and Brigitte would…” She waves her hands. “You two could…”
I blink. “We would what?”
Hildy sighs. “That you two would date.”
My eyes widen. “Me? And Brigitte?”
“Yes.” She stirs more sugar into her tea. “I had hopes… but you never seemed to act upon it.”
“Brigitte is your niece.” My whole body feels numb. How could she ever think I would be remotely interested in crossing that boundary?
“I am aware,” she says dryly.
“And my employee.”
She pauses. “I wasn’t aware that is how you viewed her.”
“How else am I supposed to view her?” I’m genuinely curious. It never occurred to me to see her as anything other than my employee.
“She’s your age, she’s single, she’s pretty…”
My mind gets stuck. “But she works for me.”
“I know.”
“And she’s your niece.”
“Yes,” Hildy says, sipping her tea. “I didn’t realize that was such a problem for you.”
“It’s not. It wouldn’t be. It—fuck.” I scrub at my forehead. “I would not date your niece without consulting you first, and I would not consult you about your niece unless I were interested in seriously pursuing her. And the fact remains, I am only interested in seriously pursuing Vanessa—the same woman I’ve been interested in for several years now.”
She presses her lips together. “Is she that woman who came here a few nights ago?”
“It was a few weeks, and yes. We are dating.” It feels stiff and formal for our relationship. “We’re together,” I try again. “Well—I want to be, I may have messed everything up. Which is why I wanted to talk to Brigitte,” I add. “I was hoping she had some insight as to where I went wrong.”
“Did you apologize?” Hildy asks dryly.
I nod. “I sent her an apology gift and a note. That was a few days ago.”
“What did you do prior to that?”
“I… well, I told her I was interested in getting married, and she was not expecting that,” I finally explain.
“Have you been dating long?”
“Not terribly long, no.” With a sigh, I lift my tea, then set it down without drinking. “That may be part of the problem.”
She gives me a cold look that tells me in no uncertain terms that I’m a fucking idiot. “Perhaps.”
“So… what do I do about it?”
“Well, you could give her time to acclimate and decide if she feels the same,” Hildy offers.
“Or?”
“Or, you could force the issue and make her resent you more,” she continues. “Possibly ending it altogether.”
Ending it? My blood runs cold at the thought. I have waited all this time to get Vanessa back into my life—I don’t think I could stand it if she were to leave me now.
“I don’t like that.” I don’t want to force her into anything.
“Well…”
“Thank you,” I tell my friend and neighbor. “I needed a woman’s perspective.”
She shakes her head. “I think you knew what to do all along. You just did not want to admit it.”