Chapter 2 #2
Angela couldn’t help being amused by the fact that Dot was being quite the picky lady for an eighty-year-old woman. Eighty-ish.
“I personally love men who are in touch with their feminine side; men who cook, who garden, who appreciate art.”
She looked at Michael who suddenly turned away. She had no clue that she had just described him perfectly.
“Wouldn’t you draw the line at crocheting?” Dot asked her.
“Not really.”
“He’s probably just in the class to pick up the ladies,” Michael offered.
“You think so?” Angela asked him.
“Hey, I know how men’s minds work,” he told her.
Yes, she was sure he did.
He had made a good point, however.
“Well, in that case; he’s not a sissy, he’s a scoundrel,” Dot told them.
“I still think you should still give him a chance. I really do,” Angela told her.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Well, think about it hard. It’s not often that love comes around. You owe it to yourself to see if this guy is it.”
“Oh... looks like we have a hopeless romantic in our midst,” Michael teased.
He was making her quite uncomfortable again. And once again, she quickly changed the subject.
“So who’s the architecture aficionado?” she asked, looking at all the architectural pen and ink drawings on the walls.
“That’s me,” Michael offered. “That’s my obsession.” He leaned back in his chair, staring at the wall. “When I was younger, I debated between careers in architecture and computer science.”
“I believe he made the right choice,” Dot added.
“Most likely.” He smiled at his mother.
“He’s not just a little successful. This house is over 20 000 square feet,” she told Angela matter-of-factly. Michael shifted in his chair, uncomfortable. Dot was obviously very proud of her son.
“So you chose architecture?” Angela asked half joking, half guessing.
“No. I chose Computer Science. I designed sophisticated order processing software for on-line transactions for large companies in the 90’s. I was just out of college.”
“Oh yes. The internet just took off in the early 90’s,” she tried to sound knowledgeable.
“Architecture has remained my passion. There are beautiful architectural details all through this house.”
“Nice crown molding,” she offered, looking up and realizing she had no clue what she was talking about. Well, maybe she didn’t know much about architecture, but she certainly appreciated art.
“I was admiring your collection of artwork of doors the first time I came here,” she told him. “They’re beautiful.”
“Didn’t you come here to read to me?” Dot interrupted.
Oh yes, that.
“You’re absolutely right. What book did you choose?”
“You know she is perfectly capable of reading on her own. You’re just spoiling her,” Michael joked.
“It’s ok. I don’t mind,” she told him. Dot handed her the book.
“Well, I guess I’ll be going.” He grabbed another chocolate before getting up.
Dot had chosen Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.
Angela was in no way surprised by her choice; a classic with a lot of drama.
And she knew Dot loved drama. Dot was as miserly as the character of Heathcliff; she probably related to him.
And of course, it was a long book; Angela wouldn’t be getting out of this arrangement any time soon.
Just as they were about to start on Chapter One, Michael came back in. “Angela...” He hesitated. “There are many other collections throughout the house. I could give you a tour later on.” She felt a rush of excitement. She was very much interested in seeing them; tour guide not withstanding.
“Yes. I’d love that.”
“You can come by my office when you’re done. I’m just next door,” he pointed to the right.
“Are we going to start sometime this century?” Dot interrupted again.
“Yes. Sure. Sorry.”
“He’s always going on about his collections to someone or another.”
Michael leaned back in his office chair, feet on his desk, staring at the intricate ceiling, his hands clutched over his forehead.
Why had he just done that? Why had he offered her the tour?
Why hadn’t he just stayed away as he told himself he would?
He just wanted to see her, say a quick hello, he justified to himself.
No harm could come of that right? But the instant he saw her in her sheer red blouse, his pulse quickened and he lost his senses.
She certainly had an effect on him – that, he couldn’t deny.
He had this inexplicable need to be near her.
The phone rang. He didn’t answer – his mind wasn’t in the right place.
No, it wasn’t in the right place; it most certainly was in the wrong place.
Not only did she appear to be engaged, he definitely was in no mood to get involved with someone and get his heart stepped on and his life turned upside down again.
He was completely content with his life as it was; serene and simple.
He considered taking off; maybe a last minute business meeting would call him out of the house.
Angela read the first few chapters to Dot.
On her way out of the study, she mentally calculated that at thirty-four chapters, she would be committed for at least nine or ten weeks.
She debated whether or not to take the art tour.
She didn’t quite feel right about it. If Michael had been any other man, there would be no reason to hesitate.
But he wasn’t any other man. He was the one who had consumed her thoughts night and day for the last week.
She had promised Robert she would be away for no longer than three hours and would be home in time to make him a nice dinner.
Although she didn’t hate cooking, she didn’t love it.
Dot had already kept her a little longer than anticipated.
But on the other hand, how long could it take; this wasn’t the Louvre.