Chapter 5 #2
“Well... I didn’t exactly say that.”
“You should take it.”
He had only been, after all, trying to do her a favor and she was treating him like a delinquent. She succumbed and gave him a warm smile.
“So where is Dot?” she asked.
“I have no idea where my mother is but you can wait with me if you want. I’m just out in the garden, taking out a few weeds,” he explained.
“Sure.” She tried not to sound too excited but she was ecstatic. She had wanted to go visit the garden since the first day she had seen it, through the study’s windows.
She left her purse in the coat room and followed him to the garden through the back door of the house.
They walked on the stone patio and stepped on to what Michael explained was a perennial garden; a wide expanse of grass surrounded by wild flowers.
An old birch tree stood in the corner, shading a wood bench.
She could see in the distance, a portion of the rest of the garden, which was completely surrounded by tall cedar hedges.
“This is fantastic,” she told him, truly awed. “You didn’t do all this, did you?” she asked; one lone man could not possibly achieve this beauty.
“No. I wish. This garden has been here for over twenty years. It was created by the original owner of the house. He was a landscape architect.”
She took a seat on the bench, taking in the peaceful view. “You were lucky to find this place.”
“The original owner was getting on in age,” he said, taking a seat beside her. “He passed away. His children sold his estate; and divided the profits I suppose.”
“Well, regardless of the circumstances, you have a beautiful place here.”
“I bought it in large part, because of the garden.”
“Do you do any gardening?” She liked the look of him in his plain white tee and worn jeans.
“A little... I’m an amateur. I try to clean it up a bit. I have a professional to help me out.”
“I can’t even keep a plant alive,” she joked. It seemed she made more jokes than usual around him; probably to get a glimpse of his irresistible smile. And there it was.
“You should get yourself a cactus,” he suggested.
“I’d probably kill that too.”
He laughed as he got up and held out his hand for her. “Would you care to see the rest of the garden, my Lady?”
“Why, thank you Sir, with pleasure.” She loved being as silly as he was and delighted in the feel of his hand around hers. He didn’t let go as he led her to the long arched path. The arch was bursting with blooms and they found themselves in complete isolation; sheltered from the rest of the world.
“What do you think of this?” he asked her, still holding on to her hand.
She could suddenly feel those recurring feelings of wanting within her.
“It’s great. It’s cozy....a little too cozy, maybe,” she told him, shooting him a playful look and working her hand out of his.
“Yes, we’d better get out of here,” he said.
He led her down the patch which led to a stunning gazebo enclosing a wrap around bench. Angela was mesmerized.
“Wow; this is a girl’s dream come true. When I was little, I always dreamed of having a gazebo like this, where I could play with my dolls.”
They sat at quite a distance from each other. This garden was way too romantic; she should have known this. Do the math Angela, she told herself; romantic garden in complete isolation plus gorgeous irresistible guy and you just might do something really stupid.
He tried not to stare at her; even in his baggy t-shirt, she was completely desirable.
“So where are you from, originally?” he asked her, thinking it would be best to put words between them; break the tension.
“Out West. And you?”
“Just south. Toronto.”
“Siblings?” he asked.
“A younger brother and a younger sister. How about you?”
“An older sister and an older brother.”
“Baby of the family?”
“Yep,” he confessed.
“That’s funny. You don’t strike me as a baby; more as the eldest sibling.”
“So you judge people on the order of their birth?” he teased.
“Well, a little I guess. It’s just that you’re so take-charge and successful, and you seem to like to take care of people.”
“I know you do… typical older child.” he told her, looking at her just a little longer than he should have.
“Favorite color?” she quickly asked.
“Blue. Like the sky. What about you?”
“Orange.”
“You’re a wild one. On the surface you’re all proper and subdued… but inside, I know there’s a wild girl in there,” he teased.
His statement made her a little uncomfortable. You have no idea.
“What makes you cry?” he asked her; an unexpected question. He wanted to get into her core. She hesitated for a moment.
“People dying… and babies being born.”
“The circle of life,” Michael observed.
“And men who break my heart,” she quickly added. “What makes you cry?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. The last time I cried was when my father died. My mother told me to shape up; be a man. I haven’t cried since.”
“Well, I’ll make you watch Terms of Endearment and we’ll see what happens,” she joked.
“I won’t cry, I swear. I’m a robot,” he joked.
She wished he was a robot, but he was definitely not a robot; he was pure flesh and blood.
They talked for almost an hour, sitting in the gazebo, at a respectable distance. This gave Angela a chance to learn more about Dot who had been a bit of a mystery, up until then.
His parents moved from England to Canada in 1952 and his father worked in construction. A hard worker all his life, he died from prostate cancer when Michael was ten. Dot took odd jobs to keep food on the table. They never had much money, never owned a home but there was always food on the table.
“Wow. I would have never guessed. I thought she’d been rich all her life.”
“Yes, the way she carries on with her pearls. I guess she’s making up for lost time,” he joked. “She never had anything; never a new dress, new curtains. But we always had toys for Christmas and birthdays.” He looked away. “And on top of that, she put aside money for our education.”
“Even my first job; I was barely thirteen. She got me a job as a gopher at this small company where she did janitorial work. She practically begged. Told them I was a real hard worker. That’s where I learned all about computers.”
“Wow, so you owe her a lot.”
“Everything”
They talked about the loss of his father.
She told him she had lost her mother to breast cancer when she was fourteen.
Their stories were very similar; a boy without a father, a girl without a mother, both lost to cancer.
Here they were; a Personal Support Worker and a successful entrepreneur, with so much in common.
He talked about his marriage. He told her she ended it.
She missed her family back in Québec. They had grown apart. She hated his mother.
“Really?! I can’t believe it,” Angela joked. He looked up and smiled at her. It was the most simplest of smiles but it had a warmth she could not have described. No one had ever smiled at her the way he did. They talked about his love of architecture and their shared appreciation of art.
“Are you hungry for a snack?” he asked her, getting up.
She was and thirsty as well; it was about four o’clock and she hadn’t brought anything to the garden.
“I’m actually a little thirsty.”
“Wait here. I’ll be back in about five minutes.
” He sprinted off and left her alone with her thoughts.
Her thoughts were not all flowers and sunshine; they were judging and anxious.
She fully appreciated the reality of this quaint little meeting in the garden.
She knew it was quite improper for an engaged woman to be sitting in a romantic garden, chatting for over an hour with a very attractive available man.
She decided that despite the beauty of the garden, she would make her exit as quickly as possible.
She would leave as soon as Michael came back with the drinks and snacks.
Yes, she thought, what we absolutely don’t need now is a romantic picnic.