Chapter Seventeen
Zephyr
I left work early to cook and clean and shop for dinner…not in that order.
When I went to the table to join Cypress and Birch, they were having a comfortable, animated conversation.
I arrived with Birch’s order and a macha latte for myself just to hear the word, “Tonight.”
“What’s tonight?” I asked, setting everything on the table and handing the tray to a passing employee. “You guys making plans?”
“I invited Birch over to dinner,” Cypress said. “He is going to come.”
“That’s great.” I picked up my cup and used it to hide as much of my expression as possible. Stared into the green liquid to keep them from seeing my eyes widen into panicky saucers. “What time?”
“We didn’t say yet,” Cypress said. “When is good for you?”
In a week? But of course, those were not the words that came out of my mouth. Instead, my supportive mate self blurted out, “Seven?”
“Are you sure it’s convenient?” At least Birch got it. “We can always do it another day.”
“No.” Cypress’ tone held such panic, I knew I couldn’t take advantage of the out from Birch. “We would love you to come today, wouldn’t we, Zephyr.”
Of course, I agreed. After we spoke for a few minutes, Birch left to go take care of whatever things were on his plate, presumably work. Whatever he did. And I went to make arrangements to leave as soon as possible. The only one of us who didn’t seem in a rush?
Cypress.
He wandered off as well, with a happy glow, to go to the office he worked out of when he wasn’t doing his job remotely. Did a male have any idea what it meant for a woman to have company at short notice? We’d both been very busy lately, and the house suffered as a result.
I was so nervous, I didn’t know what to do with myself, but it felt like we were about to have the most important night of our lives, and I didn’t want to mess up.
At the store, I bought steaks, pork ribs, chicken breasts, and just about every vegetable that looked good.
If I’d known I was going to be doing this, I’d have bought some of the veggies at the farmer’s market the other day, but it was all so sudden.
That would have most women in a tizzy. I had no doubt of that fact.
But it didn’t change the fact that I hadn’t dusted in three weeks and my floors were a disgrace.
Dust bunnies tumbled in wild abandon and the toilet didn’t have blue water.
When I was a little girl and we were having company, my mother would always use these cartridges to make the toilet smell fresh and look like a swimming pool.
I thought it was weird, but I loved seeing it look like that.
In our home, it meant someone important was coming, and we honored them with the sacred blue water.
I glanced at one of the windows while using a duster to brush away dirt on the sill and realized that if I’d ever actually washed the windows, I couldn’t remember it.
But I didn’t have time, so I pulled all the curtains closed to hide the ugly windows.
Vacuuming was a must, though. I was running around the house with a duster in one hand, pushing the vacuum with the other, and muttering about how I was the worst housekeeper in the world, when Cypress came home with a bottle of wine and a six-pack of beer to find this charming scene.
“Mate?” he asked, “what are you doing?”
“I’m getting ready for our company,” I said, swiping a cobweb from a corner of the ceiling. “What do you want for dinner?”
“What do we have?” he asked, setting his beer and wine on the kitchen counter.
I tucked my duster in my apron pocket and opened the refrigerator to show him the meats and produce I’d bought. “What would you like?
“Okay, my love, I see what’s going on here. The house is clean as a pin, so you don’t need to do any more of that, and while you go up and take a bath, I will do a mixed grill on the barbecue and we will have a big salad. Sound good?”
“All right.” Our home wasn’t as clean as any kind of pin, but we were running out of time, and if I didn’t do something to calm myself, I’d be nonfunctional and unable to enjoy or even survive or evening.
“Mate? This is not a commitment to anything besides an evening with a friend.”
It was all about Cypress, I reminded myself, as I settled into the mountains of bubbles. Reconnecting with a very important part of his past and maybe a future that included me. But he wasn’t going to make a decision like that on his own. It would have to be both of us—all three of us.
After a long soak, I climbed out, dried off, and put on a cute fall sweater and tights. I brushed my hair out and slid a jeweled clip in the shape of a fall leaf into one side. A little mascara and eyeshadow and lipstick, and I was as good as I was going to get.
Time to be a hostess.
As I came downstairs, voices carried to me from the backyard.
The scents of grilling meat told me that dinner was well on the way, so I stopped in the kitchen and pulled out all the produce to make a fall-themed salad.
I arranged it all in a big wooden bowl and was shaking a walnut oil and cider vinegar dressing to toss it with, when Cypress came in and got a couple of beers out of the fridge.
“You look pretty. Smell good, too.” He gave me a quick kiss and then started for the door.
“Oh, did I tell you Birch is the chef we were supposed to meet the other night? He is the chef-owner there. Imagine if he’d been present to come out and greet the guests like he usually does? We’d have met him…mate? What’s wrong?”
My vision had darkened, and I clung to the edge of the counter, trying not to pass out. “Cypress, how long have you known this fun fact?”
“Since this morning? Why?”
If he had to ask, there was no use explaining. My simple grilled meats and salad dinner would have to speak for themselves. Hopefully in a nice voice.