CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
[MESSAGES]
Tess: How are you coping without Gideon?
Kate: Fine.
Tess: I thought we were done pretending.
Kate: I’m unsettled.
Tess: Do you miss him?
Kate: Yes. The man is wreaking turmoil in my life.
Tess: Isn’t it glorious?
Kate: No. I can’t sleep properly. I’m daydreaming. I never daydream.
Tess: I’m beside myself with excitement.
Kate: Why would you wish this on me?
Tess: Because my darling, stubborn sister, I want you to be happy. And if you’re unhappy in his absence, then it stands to reason you’ll be happy in his presence.
On Tuesday, Joel and I work together on a high-end drinks shoot, one of my favorite styling gigs. I’ve put together a partially styled stand-in glass so he can experiment with lighting and angles.
I slip on gloves and select a glass for my first drink. One of the most important considerations when styling drinks is that there can be no smudges anywhere on the glass. While I meticulously clean the glass with a microfiber cloth, I recall what Gideon said about Joel having romantic feelings toward me. But from the moment I arrived on set, Joel has been his usual brisk, professional self. Neither of us are overly chatty or touchy when we work. Gideon is mistaken.
I bring my focus back to work. We’re shooting iced drinks for a summery lifestyle article, so I want condensation on the glass. First, I apply tape to the rim of the glass. Because there’ll be no liquid in that area, we can’t have any condensation there.
I lightly spray the glass with a clear varnish to create a frosty effect. From there, I pick up my atomizer and squirt a mixture of glycerin and water on the outside of the glass to produce a perfect pearly condensation. This will hold for a while, giving Joel time to get the right shot. After I remove the tape, I place artificial ice cubes in the glass.
When it’s time to pour the drink, I use a funnel so there’s no splashing and I’m careful to only pour the liquid up to the line where the condensation is. I study the drink with narrowed eyes. It needs a little something extra to finish it off, particularly if Joel opts for an overhead camera angle. I whip up some dish foam and painstakingly spoon carbonated dollops around the ice to give the drink a freshly poured appearance.
Early this morning, I’d popped into the Farmer’s Market to buy good quality garnish that won’t wilt an hour into the shoot. Garnishes bring color, texture, and layers to a drinks shoot and they’re the most fun to play around with. As I gaze at the various garnish options I’ve spread out on the table, I feel like a child looking at presents under a Christmas tree, giddy with choice and anticipation. Apple fans, cucumber ribbons, citrus peels, berry and herb skewers. I lose track of time as I throw myself into creating and styling.
I’m watching Joel hover over the styled drink, taking his shots, when my phone screen lights up with Tess’s name. She doesn’t usually phone me during the day. I take her call in case it’s an emergency and put her on speaker, keeping my hands free if Joel requires any touch-ups to the drink.
“Hello, my beautiful sister who never returns my calls,” she booms out.
“Tess,” I caution, “you’re on speaker.”
“Are you at work?”
“Of course I’m at work. What’s wrong?”
“Hey, is that hunk of a man you work with there with you? I have a cute friend I could set him up with. Remember Kenzie? Oh, unless Joel’s gay. Is he gay?”
Joel lowers his camera and looks at me, raising his eyebrows in amusement.
I briefly close my eyes. What part of you’re on speaker did Tess fail to understand? Although I’m the nitwit for putting her on speaker. Ignoring all her questions, I press the disconnect button. Immediately, my phone rings again, but I switch it to silent.
“I’m sorry about that,” I say to Joel, my cheeks flaming. “It’s like my sister’s mouth is hot-wired to spew the most ludicrous things.”
Joel smirks. “All I really paid attention to was her description of me as that hunk of a man .”
I roll my eyes. “Am I going to have to deal with your ego for the rest of the shoot?”
He grins. “What? You don’t think I’m a hunk?”
He’s teasing, but there’s an undertone of serious to his voice.
“I’m not feeding your ego,” I tell him lightly. “I’ll leave that to my sister. But I will tell you I’ve met Kenzie and she’s lovely.”
He stares at me. “What if I’m interested in someone else?”
My stomach drops. Gideon was right. “Joel,” I say quietly.
He holds up a hand, forestalling my words. “It’s okay. I know you don’t feel that way about me.” He offers me a rueful grimace. “I’ve liked you for some time now, but I could see you weren’t ready.”
“I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t. I was waiting, biding my time, but I’m guessing your neighbor scooped you up first.”
I chew my lip. I’d be a liar if I denied his words.
He gives a small shake of his head. “The irony is, I encouraged you to try out the reading program. I practically threw you into his arms.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I simply and selfishly wanted you to know. And yes, we can continue working together without any awkwardness,” he says firmly, divining my thoughts. “I like and respect you enough that I want you to be happy. And if this Gideon guy is the person who will make you happy, then that’s enough for me.”
I swallow past the sudden tightness in my throat, feeling a swell of affection for this sweet man who is putting my happiness before his. “Thank you. And take Tess up on her offer to set you up with Kenzie. You won’t regret it.”
“Mom, when is Gideon coming back?” Lisset asks as we drive home from school on Wednesday.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “He said he’d be away for two weeks and the two weeks end this Saturday.”
She pauses, working it out. “So, three sleeps and then we see him?”
“Maybe.” I frown at her hopeful tone. “But he may decide to stay away for longer. I don’t really know.”
She grunts, not satisfied with my vague answer. I’m not satisfied, either. Gideon hasn’t called or texted once. I have no idea what’s going on.
My hands are now strangling the steering wheel. I make a conscious effort to relax them.
“I miss him,” she admits dejectedly.
I miss him too .
I miss his calm, steady presence, his quiet patience with Lisset. There are also so many other things I miss. Our chats. The friendly banter. The spicy fragrance of his after-shave lotion. His flirting prowess that inevitably draws a smile out of me. A teeny tiny part of me even misses Uno.
Lisset reads to Toto, her greyhound soft toy, every night without fail. And every day she asks me when Gideon is coming back. We’re both grappling with a Gideon-shaped hole in our lives.
I turn into our driveway just as Aaron pulls up outside our house and parks on the street. He unfolds his tall body from his car.
“Uncle Aaron!” Lisset runs full tilt toward him and he catches her easily, sweeping her into a hug.
He looks over at me and smiles. “Hey, Kate. How’s everything going?”
I step toward him, my suspicions stirred. “Fine. Just as it was fine two days ago when you stopped by.”
At his sheepish look, I prop my hands on my hips. “Tell Tess we’re coping perfectly well and she doesn’t need to keep sending you around to check on us.”
“Tess didn’t send me,” Aaron admits.
“Oh.”
He lets out a sigh. “I told him you’d be suspicious.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Gideon asked me to check in on you while he was away.”
A pulse of joy surges through me. “He did?”
“He did,” Aaron confirms with a smile. “The man has fallen hard.”
So has the woman, I can’t help thinking.
Gideon returns Saturday afternoon. It’s an unusually hot day for May, the haze in the air hinting at summer. I feel that swoop in my belly as I watch him pull into his driveway and exit his car. I remain in the living room staring at him through the curtains in the window, my hungry eyes taking in his disheveled dark blond hair and handsome face, so sexy and rough-looking. The urge to run across the street and throw myself into his arms is so forceful it steals my breath. Why does his return make everything seem a little more right in the world? The swell of happiness filling my chest scares me, so much so that I don’t rush out to greet him.
Lisset, however, has no such compunctions.
“Gideon’s back!” she yells. “Let’s go say hello, Mom!”
“Let’s wait until he’s settled.”
An appalled expression sweeps across her features. “But that could take forever! I want to see him now.”
“We’ll wait,” I tell her firmly.
But the little troublemaker scrambles onto the back of the couch, cranks open the window and yells, “Gideon!” in a voice so loud I’m sure the echo of it reverberates through the neighborhood.
Gideon is busy helping Uno out of the car. He looks up immediately and spots Lisset waving energetically to him out of the window. An easy smile splits his face. With no hesitation, he crosses the street with Uno and walks straight toward our house.
My heart gives a hard and heavy thump in my chest.
Lisset hops down from the couch and races to the door. I marvel at the fact there’s no pretense with her. She’s excited to see Gideon and making no attempt to hide her excitement. Unlike me. How ironic that as we become older, we shed our childlike openness and it becomes more about games and pretending. A mating dance with rules so confusing and complicated no one knows where they stand anymore.
I feel too jaded for games, but I also know I can’t show my eagerness as freely as Lisset.
I watch from the window while Lisset updates Gideon on everything that’s happened in the two weeks he’s been away. I let her have her time and then I wander out to greet him.
“You’re back.”
He focuses on me with that distinctive intensity that thrums through my blood. “I am.”
“How was your trip?”
“Good. Relaxing. How about you? How are you?”
“Fine.”
We stare at one another.
Lisset, bored by the exchange, asks Gideon if she can walk Uno up and down the street to stretch his legs.
“Sure, as long as it’s okay with your mom.” I nod my assent, and he hands her the leash. “Make sure you walk where we can see you.”
Exactly what I would have instructed her.
When Lisset is out of earshot, he asks softly, “Did you miss me?”
I don’t quite meet his gaze. “No.”
“Liar,” he murmurs, a trace of a smile in his voice.
“I might have missed you a little,” I admit.
Gideon tips my chin up with one finger. “Did you miss me enough that when I ask you out again on a date you’ll say yes?”
The silence lasts perhaps ten seconds before I give in.
“I don’t know,” I say in a near whisper. “Are you asking me?”
“I do believe I am.” There’s a streak of vulnerability in his face I haven’t seen before.
I smooth my hands nervously over my denim-clad thighs. I’m hovering on the brink of saying yes, but the word seems to be stuck in my throat.
“How about we take it one step at a time?” he proposes, his deep voice low and even. “We start off with one date.”
“One date,” I echo.
“One date,” he confirms. “No expectations. No pressure. Anytime you’re uncomfortable, we call it quits.”
“I’m a little uncomfortable right now.”
His lips twitch. “Let me reframe. Anytime you have a legitimate reason for feeling uncomfortable, we stop.”
“All right,” I say.
“All right, what?”
“One date.”
The tension leaves his shoulders and the grin breaking across his face dips its charm all the way to my toes.
I keep my tone business-like. “We’ll make it a lunch date.”
He shakes his head. “Dinner. Non-negotiable.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”
“Uh-uh. This is a real date. I’m picking you up.”
I bite my lip. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That’s okay, because I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Lisset returns with Uno and Gideon takes the leash from her, turning to leave. “I’ll let you know the rest of the details later,” he says over his shoulder.
He’s only taken two steps before I blurt out, “Gideon.”
He stops and faces me.
The words tumble out. “I did miss you.”
He nods, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. And when he walks away, I swear he mumbles something that sounds weirdly like, “My trip achieved its purpose then.”