Chapter 10
MAUREEN
Maureen wasn’t looking forward to her Friday appointment with Mallory Parr because she had no clue what to say.
There was no mistaking Eli’s email response, but she wasn’t sure how exactly to answer him.
She was in dangerous territory and slightly in over her head.
The only ‘outlet’ for questioning or assistance seemed to be devoutly intent on them giving a relationship a try – despite everything.
Matchmaking, blind dates, and ‘Hey, you two should go out!’ comments had never worked for her in the past. Usually, single men stayed single for a reason – and she was finding that the older she got, the shallower that dating pool seemed to appear.
It was like all the younger ‘kids’ were pairing up, figuring things out – right, wrong, or otherwise.
People were marrying, divorcing, or simply messing up their lives - leaving women in their thirties or forties stuck sorting through the messes… like her.
There was something about Eli that seemed different. He was single – yes.
He came off as arrogant and snobby – also ‘yes’. He was possibly her age or a bit older, which raised a red flag in the air. It had her wondering if he was secretly some closet weirdo, spent time licking concrete for fun, or had some twisted fascination with feet… and despite all her hesitations?
You couldn’t ignore the facts.
Eli ‘Archangel’ Hall was breathtaking in a way she never anticipated, and it had stuck with her long beyond that initial meeting.
Every time she closed her eyes, Maureen pictured his standoffish stance…
and a part of her melted. He was like a beautiful statue that could come to life – and she’d seen that light in his eyes, that flicker of interest, that spark of something more…
even if he thought he was hiding it from the world.
Emailing him was more dangerous than she realized because it gave her a glimpse into how his mind worked…
and it allowed for interpretation. She was putting her thoughts, hopes, and imagination into those spaces in between his words, allowing for something to build - that might not actually be there.
She had drafted an email but hadn’t sent it yet. It seemed crazy to invite a stranger to her region of the world on a whim, but then again, she’d already offered to rub his body with oil – literally.
“Because I’m a freakin’ moron,” she muttered under her breath. “You’ve fired clients for getting too fresh before, but now you are the one dishing it out.”
Re-reading her email to him once more, she bit her lip.
Psp-psp-psp,
I thought you were interesting at your brother’s wedding, which is why I gave you my card.
I’m still interested, maybe even more so, but I have questions too that probably should be handled in person.
Maybe it’s my biological clock, maybe it’s loneliness, maybe it's sheer delusional hope on my part… but I think you’re nice.
You asked what ‘come here’ would look like?
A long flight for you, a visit here, a date with me, and a massage – but only if things aren’t weird or awkward between us.
I do reserve the right to change my mind, so don’t be a creep or think this is an open ticket for a ‘booty-call’.
Sorry for the candidness, but that cannot be left up to chance because no one needs to get maced or tasered, now do they?
I want to talk. I want to see if my imagination matches the man before me – and that can’t be done via email. We’re both adults. We can be open, talk freely, handle this tactfully - and with respect… and if this doesn’t work out, then we can part as friends once more.
Let’s stop with the games and dancing around this – if you need it spelled out, then that’s what this email is.
I’m interested, but I can’t wrap my mind around a few key things that need more – and that ‘more’ has to come from your end, in person, so we can ask the hard questions without having to wait a day, two days, or more.
Yours truly,
Maureen
“Oh gosh,” she whimpered softly, torn between deleting the email or sending it.
This was an open invitation into a relationship of some sort with a stranger whose whole existence was on the other side of the globe.
Long distance never worked except in the movies.
She had her life here; things were finally starting to slowly pick up the pace, and while a part of her wished that she had some big boisterous family to talk to, to ‘go to’ in times like this… it was just her.
She had grown up alone, unsure of a future, raised within the orphanage in Ember Creek.
That shaped a person, molded them, made you ‘harder’ – but only because you valued certain things so much more.
She was candid because being the ‘quiet kid’ and hoping you got noticed, well - that never really worked.
People didn’t volunteer you for things. You had to speak up for yourself – and she learned long ago how to be an advocate for that insecure and lonely child.
Ember Creek was the next town over – yet she never went back, too many memories and not enough answers.
She wasn’t one of the kids who suddenly found themselves there out of need, the result of losing a family member.
No, she had been found as a neglected and almost feral child at some crackhouse that was raided when the state stepped in…
and then placed in the orphanage when no one ever came forward looking for a missing child.
One broken person, recognizing another one, she thought, remembering how she imagined Eli as a ‘wallflower’ in a world full of ‘busy little bees’ nosing their way into their business. Always there… yet never included – desperately searching for a place to feel like you belong.
“And that’s why I have questions,” she mumbled – drew in a deep, nervous breath before clicking ‘send’ and simply sat there.
She stared at the computer like she was eyeballing an opponent, waiting for some answer she knew wasn’t coming anytime soon.
There were things to get done around the office to pass the time.
She had linens and towels to wash; there were the infusers with essential oils that would need to be refilled before the next client; and honestly, her candles that she liked to have flickering in the therapy room for a little extra light were in dire need of replacement.
“Please be nice when you respond,” she whispered softly, almost in a prayer, hoping that her gruff email wasn’t taken the wrong way.
It wasn’t nearly as flirty or forthcoming as the last one, but it was time to peel back a few layers before she allowed herself to hope for something more.
“And please don’t let this backfire in my face. ”
It was almost a week before she heard from Eli.
Maureen had passed the ‘fretting’ point long, long ago. Mallory’s visit didn’t help her bout of the nerves in the slightest. She had been keenly working on massaging out a knot in the woman’s shoulder when the subject came up.
“Okay, I can’t stand it any longer,” Mallory whispered sleepily, cracking one eye open to look up at her. “I need details, and you’re not volunteering them.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“What do you mean, ‘There’s nothing to say’…
there’s always something. Even if it’s a simple cursory evaluation, that’s more than ‘nothing’ – so, what’s the scoop?
” Mallory chided, pressing the subject and then groaning in pain as Maureen pressed her thumb in a particularly tight spot to loosen it. “Ow?!”
“Sorry,” Maureen offered simply and kept kneading – and sighed. “There’s nothing to say because I haven’t heard back from him.”
“How long has it been?”
“Today makes a week.”
“Is the base on lockdown?” Mallory asked pointedly, and Maureen stopped rubbing, giving her a blasé look. “Gotcha. You wouldn’t know. Sorry, I forgot about that little detail – and that sucks. I feel ya’, girl. I can have someone ask around or…”
“No,” Maureen stopped her immediately. “No – please. I don’t need anyone checking up on someone… and I sure don’t need someone in my life who can’t take the time to contact me. It’s a very one-sided friendship if I’m the one doing all the work – and I don’t need that.”
“Don’t give up on him yet,” Mallory assured her. “I’m sure he’s got a very good reason that he hasn’t responded yet.”
“Like ‘Not interested’?” she snapped back in frustration and annoyance.
This was not really something she wanted to talk about.
She heard a click from the other room and knew it was her answering machine picking up.
The thing was ancient but still worked and was a little easier to manage than some of the fancy digital ones.
Yes, she had a desk phone and her cell phone – but as a business, it worked best to keep the two separate…
although she was needy enough to answer either if someone wanted to come and pay her.
Mallory gave her a frown before sighing. “Since you have already condemned the guy, how about I flip over, and you can work on my back?”
“Sure thing,” she replied and held the sheet delicately so the woman could turn over without flashing her, and looked away. “Don’t fall off the table and just take it slow.”
“Let me tell you, if I faceplant, we’ll have to start over with removing that knot from my shoulder.
Have I mentioned that they just announced at the hospital that they want us all wearing a certain color of scrubs?
Hello – scrubs aren’t cheap. I don’t know why they keep trying to streamline things that really don’t need to be streamlined, but then again – it’s not my decision, and they sure didn’t ask me first.”
Chuckling softly in sympathy because she was wearing a pair of threadbare scrubs currently and truly appreciated the update. There might be a trip out to Goodwill soon if every department was changing colors. The hospital could be picky with its employees – Maureen was not.