Chapter Nine
“Well, we’ve danced and eaten everything in sight, and it seems too early to go to sleep,” I said.
Not that I was even remotely tired. Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to sleep. With the winds still howling, and the occasional knock on the window from a random piece of garbage crashing into it, it was going to be hard to sleep or rest even. Most likely, I was going to be up all night playing the woulda-shoulda-coulda game.
Would rescuers stop checking after ten pm as per the noise prohibition bylaw? The last time we checked the phone, it was already past that hour and there hadn’t been any type of rescue vehicle to have passed by our window.
It was going to be a long night.
I tapped my chin. “Hey, are you up for a friendly game of chess? I remember dropping off two game boxes earlier.”
“What was the other game?”
“Not a chess fan, are you?”
“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that I can’t think that way. My brother-in-law is like a chess prodigy. He plans out moves five or six turns ahead and can anticipate what you’re going to do.” He pulled a stool over to the bar-height table at the window. “He’s no fun to play with.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t sound that way. If he only plays to outplay someone else where’s the fun in that? If it helps, I suck at chess and have never once won a game.” I tucked a piece of wild hair behind my ear.
“Never?”
“Nope. So you’re guaranteed a win playing me because I doubt you suck more than I do.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like fun for you.”
“Oh, but it is.” I cocked an eyebrow, knowing full well how truly aggravating it was to play against me. The grunts and groans from games past still nestled in my head. “I make the stupidest moves. Throws everyone off.”
He laughed a sweet and delicious sound. “Then you need to play Bryan. That would frustrate him to no end.”
“Maybe someday I will.” I shrugged, knowing it was as likely to happen as us being rescued in the next thirty minutes.
I tossed a quick gaze down the street; it was still lifeless. Nope, no rescue in sight .
Through the muted darkness, I grabbed the box off the bookshelf and opened it, dumping out all the pieces across the table upon my return. “There should be two of everything, right?”
“Eight pawns, one Queen, and one King each, but yeah, otherwise, two of everything.”
The board was warped and wobbly, but it would work. We quickly sorted the pieces, coming up two white pawns short.
“Well, there goes that,” he said with a huff.
“Don’t be so hasty. We can improvise.” But I hadn’t the foggiest idea with what. We needed something small that would fit within the limits of the square like a salt or sugar packet. “Any ideas of a sub-in pawn? Got anything fun in your backpack?”
“Oh! Maybe?” He hoisted his bag and rifled on through, producing an unchewed piece of gum (which he popped out of the blister pack) and a tube of lip balm, which I wanted a better look at.
“You like the lip balm for the flavour or the lip softening properties?” I asked, raising a brow sky high, and repositioning myself on the stool to look up into his beautiful eyes.
My favourite was a pina-colada flavour that whenever I used it—and licked my lips—reminded me of a sunshiny day on a beach.
“Both.” For good measure, he popped the cap and swiped it over his lips, handing it to me. “Want some?”
“No, thanks. That’s just weird sharing a tube.” Even if, upon closer inspection, it was Dr. Pepper flavoured.
He braced me between his arms and slowly, tipped his head. There was a slight moment of hesitation before his lips touched mine, kissing me and warming me up from the inside out.
“Is that weird?” He pulled back with a knowing and smug smirk on his face. “We just shared some lip balm.”
Fine, two can play his game.
I licked my lips and ran a finger underneath to wipe away the dampness. The taste was pretty bang on to a Dr. Pepper flavour. “Point made and one point to you, Chapstick Boy.”
“Is that the nickname you’re giving me?” He dragged his stool closer to mine and sat upon it.
“No, ‘cuz it sucks.” I hung my head. After the name rolled off my tongue, it didn’t sound like the perfect moniker. “But one will come to me.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Tenderly, he twisted the tube of lip balm out of my fingers and put it in its place as the first pawn. “Game on?”
“Oh, it’s on like Donkey Kong.” I laughed.
“Okay, Princess Peach.” Absentmindedly, he rubbed my leg with his left hand and my brain went foggy with the sweet caress. “White goes first, and that’s you.”
I snapped back to the present moment. “Uh, yeah. Right.”
Fifteen moves later, Elliot had effectively removed six of my pieces – three pawns, the horse, and the castle. Sadly, I had only managed to take out one of his, and that was because he told me to change one of my moves.
“See, told you I sucked.”
“Do you even know how to play?”
I stared at the board, his team of black was scattered all over, whereas mine were huddled together like junior high girls at a dance. “Of course.”
“Without actually moving your piece, what would your next move be?”
The pieces all stood there, almost waving their hands as if they were saying pick me, pick me . Honestly, I had no idea which piece to move that would be considered a good, killing move. I just liked them to go places; here, there, anywhere.
I touched the seal—the one with a rounded head and a ball upon the nose. “This one. He goes diagonal, so I’d move him all the way across the board to this spot, but then again, I like the horse one because he jumps.”
“Which one will you move?” Elliot’s forehead creased adorably.
“Hmm…” My group of whites was about to lose their centreman. “Ugh. Fine. I’ll move the seal.”
“The seal?” He chuckled lightly. “It’s called the bishop.”
“It doesn’t look like a bishop.” At least the horse looked like its proper name. A knight, was it?
“Why that one though? ”
“Because I can?”
Elliot laughed at my sassy response, filling our space with his genuine warmth. “Please, please, play Bryan someday. I’d love to watch the look on his face when you make a move like that.”
“Because it’s that bad?”
“No.” His hand rubbed my thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world, and in this moment it was. I could get used to innocent slivers of time like this. “Because it’s that funny and unpredictable. He’d never guess where you’d go, and it would so throw him off, and the names you’ve given them are the best.”
I rested my hand on top of the one on my thigh. “Well, what can I say? I’m unpredictable when it comes to games.”
He moved in closer. “That’s not a bad thing, so don’t say it like it is.”
“I wasn’t.” I stared into his eyes and ran my finger over his forehead and above his eyebrow. There was no mark, no indication of having ever connected with a door. Lucky guy.
He leaned in and sweetly brushed his lips over mine, and there were zero complaints coming from me. I didn’t know what this was—aside from two people caught in the moment—and for now I was going to revel in all the unexpected sweetness. Tomorrow’s Sage could deal with the emotional fallout of reality.
We never finished the game, mainly because although he said he wasn’t frustrated by my random moves, I heard the subtle sigh each time. Some came with a wee bit of a snicker, so it wasn’t all an upset.
“Would you rather play Guess Who? ”
Elliot opened the box and scooted the chess pieces in, adding the cheap chess board on top before putting the lid back on. “Are all the pieces in that one?”
I shrugged. “No idea. I thought the chess set was complete. Harvey already had them in the box so I assumed it was good to go. Besides, how many things can go missing on a Guess Who board?”
It had been years since I played. My cousins had the game, and it was a highlight playing with them as it always became a tournament-style marathon. I wasn’t too proud to boast of my outstanding win-loss ratio. For whatever reason, they never guessed the man with the glasses and the moustache until it was too late.
Elliot slid the chess box back onto the shelf and returned to the windowed table with the only other game in the shop.
A deep sigh rolled out of me as I glanced out the window. The winds still sent the occasional piece of garbage tumbling down the street, slowing their speed enough to not be considered gale forces. The leaves on the branches nearest us flickered almost ominously, and the sky remained dark.
“Do you think the storms are done for the night?” My heart pitter-pattered a touch harder thinking another sneak attack could happen.
“I’m not a meteorologist, and I don’t recall what they said about the strength and length of the storm, but I hope not? Maybe just a drizzle of rain, but maybe not even that.” He stared out the window looking lost and sad.
I squeezed his hand. “Let’s hope someone comes by and we can alert them.”
He banged his hand on the window, and we both craned our necks searching for signs of life. None appeared. He tried again to no avail and then stormed over to the door, throwing his weight against it. There wasn’t a budge in the door—the tree had wedged itself tightly into the entrance.
Defeat was stronger than the first storm, and hanging his head, he shuffled back. Disappointment counted his barely audible words. “Yep, we’re still stuck.”
I swallowed. A tinge of adrenaline coursed through my system from the window banging I hadn’t expected. “We’ll be fine.”
Because we had to be.
There was no other option.
***
When it’s dark outside and darker inside, seeing the details on the printed faces of the game proved more of a challenge than we needed or even wanted to work through. I tucked the box back onto the shelf with a heavy sigh.
“What time is it?” I didn’t want him touching the screen of his phone too often for fear it would drain the battery.
The screen brightly lit up the space. “Nearly midnight.”
It must’ve been the magic word for suddenly Elliot yawned. Once he finished, I instinctively followed.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom.”
“I’ll wait right here for you.” Another yawn, but there was a light-hearted sound to his words.
“Miss me.” But I was kidding. I was going like twenty feet away. Hardly missing distance.
“You got it.”
I walked to the guest washrooms located in the main part of our space, hoping there was enough ambient light to guide me. I didn’t want his phone’s flashlight, nor did I want to venture back into the back of the building where pitch black didn’t even describe the space.
I was more than slightly humiliated because as when I got to the bathroom door, I realised there wasn’t a door stop (and why would there be?) so Elliot needed to come and hold it open, even though he had offered me his flashlight a dozen times.
Really, I should’ve accepted it as I have a hard time doing my thing if I think someone is listening, and how could he not have been within earshot being three feet away with his back to me. In return, I offered to hold the door for him, and he politely declined; his phone would help, and the minimal battery drainage was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
Standing at the makeshift beds, I stared down at the display. Two wingback chairs butted top to top and the cushions on the floor nearer to the window. It wasn’t going to be the most comfortable of sleeping arrangements.
“You take the chairs,” Elliot said, slinking up beside me.
“Oh, no, you should. This is your store.”
“Nah, it’s Nina’s.” He jumped onto the floor cushions before any further discussion could be had. “Problem solved.”
“You don’t have to be such a man about it.”
“How’s that?” He propped himself up on his side, pulling his long legs into the cushions. There was no way he was going to fit properly. “If I were a man’s-man, I would’ve taken the chairs and made you have the cushions, which really,” he wiggled a bit, “aren’t that bad.”
“You’re so chivalrous.”
“Is there anything wrong with that?”
I walked over to the side of the chairs and debated how to climb on them. It felt so out of place. “Being chivalrous isn’t wrong, it’s unusual.”
“No way, I don’t believe that.”
“Well, it’s true. You must wear blinders.” I squatted down and dropped my bum onto one of the backs.
He shifted some more. “You mean the guys you’ve dated previously didn’t believe in opening the doors for you? Or walk on the outside of the sidewalk or offer you his jacket when you were cold?” There was a pause in his breath. “Oh wait, that’s right, you dated those, what were they called again? Alpha-holes?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“And they never once opened a door for you?”
I rolled onto my side to face him. “One guy told me that if we were both equals, then he shouldn’t have to treat me like a queen, and I could open the blasted door myself.”
“I bet he’s still single.”
I snorted, knowing the real reason I pushed him away wasn’t that he truly treated me like an equal like he treated his male counterparts. There was an underlying sense of something bad within his soul, and it turned out I was right. “Nope. Married. One baby and another on the way, along with the occasional mistress that his wife either doesn’t know about or doesn’t care about.”
“Yikes.” Elliot continued. “Sounds like you avoided the scum of the male population. Yes, you can treat a woman as an equal, but you can also treat her well, and be honest and faithful to her. It’s the least a guy can do. My dad always treats my mom well, and my sister too, but he very much insists on opening any door for both of them. He’ll carry the groceries, not because my mom’s not capable, but because she does sweet things for him, like iron his shirts and stuff. He says it’s just proper to treat her with a lot of respect.”
“Your parents sound super adorable.”
“On occasion, but they can fight like beasts.”
I chuckled. “I imagine, but if they are like that, they were clearly great influences on you as your parents raised you very well.”
“Thank you. I’m sure they’d love to hear that.”
“Why? You a bit of a troublemaker?”
“Nah, never, not who I am.” He scrunched up his face. “But I didn’t amount to much, at least in their eyes. Didn’t make the big leagues in high school, and I definitely didn’t attend university and follow in his footsteps to be a climate engineer, or any kind of engineer really, but the whole not understanding the math and science part played into that.” A tinge of sadness coloured his words and my heart broke a little for him.
“There’s nothing wrong with doing what you do.”
“I never said there was. I like working here. Nina is a fantastic boss, and those pictures on the wall…” He sat up and pointed around. “Those are all mine. She hired me to take pictures of the town in unique ways. ”
“What? Seriously?” I’d never really taken stock of the pictures, but they were neat. In the daylight, I promised to take a better look.
I still couldn’t wrap my head around how his parents weren’t proud of a guy like him. He was sweet and adorable and infectious. Buying a coffee from him was the best way to start my day. Just because someone wasn’t a doctor or a lawyer or an engineer, it didn’t make them less of a person.
“Well, I’m sorry your parents can’t see the person I see, or the person every customer who walks in those doors sees.” I pulled my knees up and shifted to get more comfortable. As far as genuine comfort went, the backs of the chairs were surprisingly acceptable, but just not long enough to stretch out.
“I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but I appreciate you saying that.”
“I know.”
“I hate it when people fish like that, it’s irritating.”
I nodded. “Agreed.” I couldn't help myself and started giggling,
“What's so funny?” Elliot asked, his voice getting louder as he turned onto his back, bending his knees so his feet were flat on the floor. There was no way he was going to have a great sleep, if he managed any at all.
“This is like a summer camp.”
“I never went.”
“What? Really? It's like a rite of passage.” Every summer I'd be blessed with a week away, and each year it was always somewhere fun. “My sister and cousins and I would do a weekend camp at Lake Edith, or maybe closer to the city, depending on the camp’s activities. It was the best. After it was lights out, we'd pull out the food we'd snuck into our bunks from the kitchens, and we'd eat junk and talk all night long.”
“Well, we're halfway there, we can talk all night, and I think there’s a donut left we haven’t eaten.”
“Why not? It'll be fun. Unless you're tired?”
“Even if I was, I don't think I could fall asleep.”
“Afraid to miss something?” I knew that was one of the reasons I wasn't going to go to sleep, but I wasn’t afraid to miss it, I was preparing to deal with it.
He cleared his throat. “Maybe. Maybe I'll just be listening for any far-off storms so I can find a way to distract you, in the event of it happening.”
I closed my eyes and whispered, “Do you think it's a possibility?”
“After the way things have gone so far, yeah, but I honestly hope not. For your sake. It feels too late to be banging pots and pans, and I don’t know if I have enough energy for another dance party.” A light chuckle escaped with his words.
“Me either.”
“Curious, with these teenage getaways…”
“I never said I was a teenager...” but I laughed when I said it. The weeklong summer camps started happening when I was twelve.
“Anyway, when you were gone, what happened when it stormed? What did you do to cope?”
“They never happened.”
“Never?”
I twisted onto my back and stared at the ceiling. “Just once. And that was enough.”
“And what happened?”
A knot of fear twisted into shape in the deep recesses of my gut. “Until I was almost seventeen, storms never bothered me, but that one summer, everything changed.”
The air around me cooled, and I did a perfect sit-up and shook out of my jacket. Laying back down, I draped it over me like a blanket while I stared up at the ceiling.
“My cousin and I were on the lake when a storm approached, and quite quickly I might add. There was a power plant nearby, so the storms could be super intense and seem to pop up out of nowhere. We paddled back to shore like our life depended on it, and hauled the canoe out of the water, as she didn’t want anything to happen to it.” My breathing hitched in response to the memory of how hard we had exerted ourselves and the push of feet on pebbled gravel up a slight embankment, the weight of the canoe seemingly weightless with the adrenaline rush. All around us the air was thick and the rain unleashed its fury as if someone above was dumping a bucket.
Elliot reached for my hand, grounding me to the Coffee Loft.
In hindsight, it was crazy to have been so concerned about the canoe—something that could be easily replaced.
I tipped my head in his direction. He was fully focused on me, and the quick pulse of a grip on my hand helped. I took a deep inhale, which only further dried out my mouth, and inched a little closer to him.
Swallowing, the memory flashed in my head once again. “Well, we were racing back to the cabin, with our canoe over our heads, and just as we set the canoe down by the trees, I felt it before I saw it.” My whole body tightened. Elliot moved closer. My voice fell as I was transported back to that painful moment.
“The noise was the worst part.” I never forgot that sound and won’t as long as I live. Every dark cloud served as a reminder. “The bolt blew apart the tree, sending burnt kindling like shrapnel in all directions.” I flinched with the recall. “The shockwaves knocked us off our feet. I was tossed away from my cousin, and the canoe, and lost my hearing briefly. The flash affected my vision, so I crawled around blindly, screaming out Coco’s name, who couldn’t hear me, until I found her.” Once again my pulse pounded ferociously and my breaths were clipped. Tears slipped out when I thought back to the aftermath. “I gripped her in my arms until my sister and my other cousin found us. Despite Cassie’s hollering, neither of us heard her and it freaked her out.”
“Take a deep breath,” Elliot whispered and he wrapped his arm around my waist after he climbed onto the wingbacks. “You’re safe here.”
I nodded, opening my eyes. After a long inhale, I continued, and so did the tears, however, there was a stoicism to my voice I hadn’t expected. “I was the lucky one since I didn't have any permanent visual or auditory damage. My cousin, however, had severe retinal damage and is still mostly blind from the ordeal flash. She’s also deaf in her left ear. The bolt had been much closer to her.”
“Holy beans, that’s wild.” His eyes nearly bugged out and an electric current of surprise enveloped his words.
Cassie and I had often talked about what could’ve been had we just left the canoe on the shoreline and ran back to the cabin. In all likelihood, we would’ve been fine, but we were careless, or we maybe thought we were invincible; whatever had been our thought process, we paid the price.
“That explains your fear, and I’m sorry.” He tightened his hold on me.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
He chuckled, but not a hearty laugh, more of a sad, ironic version. “No, it wasn’t, but I’m sorry for what you went through. It sounds traumatic.”
“Every storm, I get tiny pinpricks of a charge, as if the electricity is building around me. I don’t know if the bolt was supposed to have hit me but each storm since, it feels like it’s seeking me out, like I avoided something I wasn’t supposed to have, like in that movie Final Destination. ”
“I’m really sorry for all you endured, and all you fear.” There was so much sincerity in his voice. “I wish I could take away your pain and suffering.” Although he really couldn’t, he was wiping away my fallen tears with the brush of his fingertip.
“I wish that too. That I could block it out fully.” I turned away briefly and inched more to the edge of my space to give Elliot a little bit of breathing room. “That’s why I avoid storms. It’s not that I hate them, I truly fear they are out to get me.”
“You certainly have an attraction to electrical hiccups.”
“No, they have an attraction to me.” I shuddered from the cold, although it wasn’t physically chilly in the coffee shop, not with the heat rolling off Elliot and wrapping around me like a blanket.
“Certainly sounds like it.” Elliot brushed strands of my hair off my face. “It’s happened again since then?”
“Yes, even though I was so cautious, the bolt still hit 100 feet away.”
“And? Any personal damage to you?” His breath hitched quietly but still enough to hear.
“Amazingly enough, no, but it reinforced my fear. Look at what happened tonight. ”
He shifted again, moving a little closer but keeping his voice the same even and soothing tone. “And how do you protect yourself when they happen? If you were to have made it home today before it hit, what would you have done?”
I swallowed and moved my arm to cross my chest. “Usually Cassie has my room ready with my biggest, fluffiest pillow, my softest blanket, and my noise-cancelling headphones. I have a playlist on my phone labelled thunder music, but I need to update it with the songs we danced to tonight. Those were good ones. Oh, and she usually has a few scented candles going as well.”
“Very motherly. She’s covering all your other senses.”
“Exactly.” I was thrilled he seemed to get it. Past boyfriends thought it was a joke and some ridiculed my sister for what she did to help me, but it was no laughing matter, and they were instantly cut off.
Softness and concern oozed out as he whispered, “So, should another storm rise up tonight, what can I do to help you?”
It was so sincere and so sweet, I worried my heart would explode, however, I didn’t know how to answer. The banging of the pots and pans had helped, as had the dancing, but those things seemed out of place now that it was approaching the middle of the night. I wanted my pillow and blanket and headphones. However, the touch and contact he had provided earlier had been a welcome relief. Saying it out loud though, that was weird. Although Elliot wasn’t a stranger, not anymore, it still felt bizarre voicing my needs, but this wasn’t an average everyday situation. I had to push past that.
“How about this?” A warm, strong arm enveloped me like a giant hug, and I melted into him.
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure how to ask.”
Thank goodness it was dark so he couldn’t see the fresh rush of heated embarrassment flood my face and chest, but I was pretty sure he felt it as the rising temperature under my jacket increased.
“Ask away. I’m not going anywhere.”