Chapter 4 Xander
XANDER
Despite the light ache thrumming at the top of my skull, spending lunch on my day off tucked into the back of a small cafe is just what I need.
Surrounding myself with healthy people going about their daily lives is the perfect cure to the stress hangover I often leave the hospital with.
Last night’s trauma was exhausting and the surgery on the internal bleeding of two people crushed at the local lumber mill took me into the early hours of the morning.
Rather than sleep, I came here to satisfy my craving for something sweet and company.
“Are you even listening to me?” The singsong tones of my sister, Thea, rise from my phone propped up against the sugar dispenser.
“I’m listening,” I reply calmly between bites of toast.
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“I always look like this.”
“Like someone spat in your coffee,” Thea snorts.
I glance toward the counter with a faint apologetic look just in case the barista overheard. “Thea, you’ve known me your entire life. If my expression is all you can pick on then I don’t have much to concern myself with.”
“I don’t have much to concern myself with,” Thea mocks with a laugh. “Alright, grumpy pants. Back to my original question. Thanksgiving.”
“My answer remains the same.”
“Oh, Xander, please!” Her face presses up to the screen. “Just once come and visit me. You’d love Canada, I promise. There’s lots of nature and trees and you wouldn’t have to deal with any people because I live basically in the middle of nowhere.”
“The outskirts of a city is not the middle of nowhere.”
“Well…” She pouts slightly and sighs. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“You’re seeing me right now.”
“That’s not the same and you know it.” Rolling her eyes, she slumps back and her snowman mug slides into view. “There’s more to life than this, Xander.”
“More than toast and coffee?” I pick up my own plain white mug. “I’m content, Thea.”
“Are you?” Her brow lifts. “You know, Claire would be on your case if she knew this is how you spend your time.”
“Saving lives?” I drink slowly and set my mug down. “She would be proud of me.”
“She would—”
“Enough.” My voice rises faintly. “I don’t want to talk about Claire. I called to see how you are, not to endure an interrogation.”
Thea sighs deeply. “I mean it, Xander. I’m worried about you. Ever since she passed, you’ve spent every year by yourself. You do nothing but work.”
“I’m not by myself.”
“They don’t count,” she grumbles.
“How cold of you.” A slight smile creeps up my face. “They would be insulted.”
“Like they could tell the difference.” She snorts. “Just… please think about coming? I’d love to see you, and Thanksgiving is like the perfect time for people to spend with family. You’re my only family, Xander.”
That catches my interest. “What happened to Paul?”
Thea groans and gulps her drink noisily, then slams the mug down. “You remember the receptionist? From that little hotel up in the mountains?”
I nod.
“He fucked her. So no more Paul.”
“I’m sorry, Thea.”
“It’s fine. I wasn’t even mad when I found out. Guess I checked out a while ago and it was the perfect excuse.”
Words catch in the back of my throat.
The urge to comfort her battles with my own inability to do so.
Years of people calling me cold and disinterested manifested into struggles expressing my emotions when they do surge.
Luckily, Thea’s never cared.
She says I’m the most emotional person she knows when I feel safe enough to express it, so I know she believes every ounce of sympathy in my silence.
“Thanks, Xander.” She smiles brightly at me, then checks her watch. “I have to go, but you should get some sleep. You look dead on your feet. Have you even been home?”
“Not yet. Hunger overruled my need for sleep.”
“Don’t you have toast at home?”
“Yes, but no—” I catch myself. Admitting my desire for company would only prolong her determination to get me to visit. “No coffee.”
“Sure,” she groans with a look of disbelief. “Love you, Xander. Speak soon.”
“Love you too.”
As the call ends, a sudden bubble of laughter rises from the other side of the cafe.
I glance up briefly, mildly curious, and something stops me from looking away.
Snow.
She’s seated near the window with three other women who clutch at each other while rolling with laughter.
Despite the humor, Snow leans back in her chair with a cup in hand, simply watching with a sweet smile on her beautiful face.
She looks much more at peace here than she did at work yesterday.
I didn’t know she ate here, although it is close to the hospital.
Glancing away, I try to focus on the numerous emails building in my inbox but the laughter continues, and knowing Snow is there somehow distracts me.
She brought me dinner last night.
A simple gesture, really. Something not uncommon when there are decent people on staff who notice those things.
But she also stayed and spoke to me which soothed me more than I realized.
Rushing back to work and leaving her there ignited a strange coldness in my chest, like I left a piece of myself behind to enjoy what remained of my dinner and the rest of her stories.
Maybe Thea’s right.
Maybe I am too lonely.
When work is busy, there’s no time to think about personal matters.
My hours are long and unpredictable, and the only regular person in my life is my neighbor, Auriela, who was kind enough to text me regular updates throughout the night.
I really should go home.
Something keeps me in my seat.
Unable to stop myself, I keep sneaking glances through the cake display case that separates my table at the back and Snow’s at the window.
She engages in animated conversation, using her hands to tell the story, and despite being unable to hear anything she’s saying, I’m enthralled by her display.
Some of her friends laugh.
A blonde one constantly interrupts and Snow’s hands stall in the air each time.
A redhead with short, tightly kept curls keeps patting Snow’s shoulder as if she’s comforting her.
I watch until an unsettling feeling creeps through me, as if I’m spying on her, and I return to my emails until the next bubble of laughter catches my attention.
One by one, Snow’s friends depart.
They kiss each other on the cheek and I catch the promises of plans and dinner soon, then they each vanish out into the rapidly darkening world outside.
A rainstorm alert flashes up on my phone while I clear out all the marketing emails that dodge my junk folder.
By the time I’m finished, Snow’s alone at her table and rain spots the window.
Those few remaining people within the cafe take the rain as their cue to leave before the weather gets worse, until Snow and I are the only ones who remain.
She doesn’t seem to know I’m here, judging by how she stares at her phone, lost in her own world.
A frown deepens her brow every so often and she occasionally rubs at her neck.
Beyond the music in the cafe and the soft hums and hisses falling from the coffee machine, the place is quiet and warm, an allure that keeps me in my seat even though I know I should get home.
Until Snow moves.
She pulls money from her purse and sets it on the table, sliding the sugar dispenser over it to keep it in place, then she slides on her coat and leaves.
Once outside, she stops in the doorway just under the overhang as the skies open with a soft rumble and the gentle rain spotting the window turns into an instant downpour.
Snow will be soaked to the bone before she makes it anywhere.
I rise and pay for my own meal, pocket my phone, and grab my coat.
The buttons slide into place just as I make it outside.
The pounding of the rain against the road seems to mask the sound of the door creaking as I exit, so Snow shows no signs of realizing I’m here.
“Snow?”
She jumps an inch in the air and whirls around, ponytail flying, and her eyes widen as she looks at me. “Oh, my God, Xander? You scared me!” She laughs and clutches at the collar of her coat to keep it closed.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. You’re fine. Crazy weather, right?” She winces and gazes behind her where the street is quickly turning into a river.
“Is it far to your car?” I ask, unfurling my umbrella.
Snow shakes her head. “I didn’t bring it. I walked.”
“Do you live far?”
She squints back at me. “I’m up the hill. It’s not that far on a nice day, but this? Terrible.”
I should have brought my car, but I got a lift in with Fred yesterday and haven’t been home since.
The bus will take me home but from memory, the bus doesn’t go up the hill at this time of year due to the ice.
“Let me walk you.” Popping my umbrella open, I step out into the downpour and hold it over me. “I need the exercise.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that!” She watches me with wide eyes. “Don’t you live on the other side of town? Not that I know where you live—I mean, I just remember when you were getting mail sent to the desk because your place was getting fumigated.”
My brow lifts. “That was three years ago. You remember that?”
Pink flushes across her cheeks and she looks away, shaking her head. “Just a random memory, y’know.”
“Well, you are correct. But like I said, I need the exercise. It’s not easy standing for eight hours during a surgery with minimal movement. Stretching my legs is a luxury.”
Snow squints up at me and her caramel eyes seem to capture the light despite the gloominess around us, exuding warmth when she smiles. “Alright, since it will help you out.” Adjusting her coat, she steps out from the overhang and under my umbrella. “Luckily, it’s not that far.”
“The farther, the better,” I reply. “Though perhaps with less rain.”
“Exactly.”
Snow walks so close to me that our elbows bump together, which doesn’t bother me, but after three gentle collisions, Snow suddenly loops her arm around mine and walks closer.
My heart jumps.
She acted without hesitation and warmth envelops my arm as she hugs in.
“I didn’t even see you in the cafe,” Snow says, apparently oblivious to the sudden rampant thoughts she caused by holding me. “You must have been at the back.”
“Yes.”
“Were you there for lunch? Is this going to make you late for work? Because I can totally walk by myself.”
The rain suddenly increases in force, battering against the umbrella and jumping right off the ground with how hard it collides. “I’m not scheduled today.”
“Me neither!” She looks up at me with a wide smile. “Who would ever imagine two people from the same floor getting the same day off. Unheard of.”
“Indeed. Jen must be incredibly unhappy.”
Snow snorts and huddles closer as the worsening rain keeps her firmly under my large umbrella. “Honestly, she deserves it.”
“How are you after yesterday?” Perhaps none of my business, but I’d be lying if I said the scolding didn’t play on my mind.
Berating someone for any reason rarely gives desired results.
“It’s whatever.” Snow sighs. “I just have to work out a few things at home and then Jen will never be on my case again.”
I want to press further just to hear her speak but before I can, she looks up at me with that brief, hesitant smile once more. “What about you? Do you always eat there?”
“At the cafe?”
“Mhm.”
“Sometimes. I like the atmosphere, and the table at the back is quiet enough for me to get on with things. I like the quiet.”
“Ahh, you like the company but not the people. I understand.”
My heart skips faintly. In one conversation, she picked up on something that Thea had taken months to understand.
I lost track of how often I explained the difference between enjoying the atmosphere of people without the pressure of interaction.
In her eyes, I was just being aloof until she finally realized that I like to keep to myself.
“Yes.” I glance back at Snow who’s looking straight ahead now. “That’s right.”
“I thought so. I’ve never seen you at a department party but you’re always around in the corridors and stuff. Everyone says you’re quiet and shy, but I don’t think that’s true.”
“Is that what they say about me?”
Snow’s grip tightens on my arm suddenly, and her head jerks up. “Not that people talk about you! I just mean that like, in passing and stuff, y’know? Back when you first started. Not now.”
“Of course.” Amusement curls at my lips. “Not now.”
“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “It sounds so bad.”
“People talk, it can’t be helped. What the patients say is more important to me than gossip.”
Snow nods and huddles closer as we walk around a large puddle.
The rain begins to ease off by the time we reach the top of the hill, panting a little, but I keep the umbrella up and Snow remains attached to my arm.
“If it makes you feel better…” Snow chuckles. “The next time someone says something, I will tell them you’re a perfect gentleman who saved me from getting absolutely drenched in an icy November rain.”
“Sounds like I’ll need to start taking bookings.”
She glances at me with wide eyes, then bursts out laughing and moves into me briefly. “I knew you had a sense of humor.” She giggles. “I could manage it for you. I’m excellent at schedules.”
“So everyone will be two hours later than expected, got it.”
“Hey!” she shoves at me again and we stumble slightly around another puddle. “That’s not fair.”
“But true.”
Her giggles make the cold bearable, and before I know it, Snow’s slowing down near an apartment block.
She glances around and her grip briefly tightens around my elbow.
“This is me.” She nods to the building at the end.
“You live here? The sun must look amazing from this high up.”
“It does. I love driving down and seeing it all crest over the lake and the—” Snow suddenly jumps away from me as if she’s been burned and clears her throat as the door opens to her apartment and a man stands there.
His gray joggers rest low on his hips and a stained blue T-shirt hangs off his slender frame.
“Noelle!” he barks. “Where the fuck you been?”
Who is this?
My back bristles immediately at his tone, but I hold my tongue when I glance at Snow.
A mixture of annoyance and exhaustion flits across her features and she flashes me a polite, apologetic smile.
“Thanks for walking me home.”
“It is no problem.”
She’s gone without saying anything else, hurrying up the path against the rain and running inside.
As she passes the stranger, his hand touches her lower back to guide her inside and his eyes narrow at me.
I stare back and watch the door slam as something heavy settles in my gut, akin to disappointment.
I was only helping her, only doing a nice thing.
And yet seeing someone else touch her like that, laying claim to her like that, makes my chest ache.
She’s not even mine and walking back down the hill, I’m struck with a small pulse of yearning.
What if she were?