Part II
Matt was like a big brother to me, we’d met at culinary school years ago, but we’d remained firm friends ever since. I was looking forward to catching up with him. I finished changing, pulled off my baseball cap and brushed out my mane of hair. I looked in the mirror as I did and wondered, could this man that filled my thoughts ever come to care for me, the real me. I sighed, time to go meet Matt and try to chill out. I walked through the back of the house and through the swinging door into the front of the house. Mrs Morelli was cashing out the till and organizing the receipts for the day. She looked up when I entered the room, and smiled at me. Good night Bella, be safe, and remember what you have to do dear. And with that she turned her attentions back to the tasks at hand.
I still had some time before I met Matt so I decided to walk, maybe some air would help to clear my head more than anything. I passed by the other little shops in the market place, closing down for the day, vendors taking their wares inside, security gates being pulled across and thick pad locks clicked into place. On I walked my thoughts still filled with that most wonderful man. I had to laugh at myself, I had to wonder how I ever got anything accomplished as I thought of him so often, a miracle I can even tie my own shoes. I liked thinking about him though, it gave me this warm fuzzy feeling, inside, and it was a nice feeling to have. I arrived at the bar and pushed open the heavy oak doors. The music rushed out to greet me as I did so. I glanced around to see if Matt had arrived yet and there he was at a table for two, away from the bar. He waved me over. Hey Cupcake, over here. I grinned at his greeting, he’d called me that ever since our days at the culinary institute.
He got up and gave me a big bear hug. So to what do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu night out on the town and your company? He studied me for a moment, stroked his face a couple of times, leaned into me and said I don’t have to kill anyone do I?” I burst out giggling hysterically , he always knew how to make me laugh. No, no nothing that drastic, I protested still laughing. Okay tell Matt all about it then. Suddenly it came spilling out, rushing like fast running water over rapids. Matt sat back in his chair, as though the force of my words had hit him and were physically knocking him back. He leaned in when I’d finished, simple Cupcake you tell him. I tossed my hands up in exasperation, Do you hang out with Mrs Morelli by any chance? Nope nice lady though, he chuckled. Would you kindly get real? I said rolling my eyes at him for effect. This man probably isn’t even mortal, he is sooooooooo out of my league, I don’t stand a chance, haven’t got a prayer I moaned.
Listen up Cupcake you are always selling yourself short and its one of your less appealing qualities. The thing with you is you are a hopeless romantic, and you aren’t the sort of woman that will settle as so many people do in life. You want Prince Charming, and hearts and flowers in your life, the happy ever after. You’ve never once settled in all the time I’ve known you, so why stop now go out and get him. He punched me lightly in the arm. So I’m supposed to go out and win one for the Gipper am I? I grinned at him, Great analogy if we were going to have a pickup game in the park buddy. Fair enough maybe you’ll like this one better, remember when we first started hanging out and we’d go out to play pool. I nodded affirmatively, not sure where he was going with this. Well you were pretty dismal at it, I’m still not brilliant at it, no you aren’t he smiled, but remember when I told you to put it in terms you’d understand. That you were a smart cookie, and if you thought of it as if it were applied geometry and physics it would make more sense to you? I grinned yep and it I really did get heaps better at it when I thought of it as angles and the force of the connection.
See you just need to put things into a perspective that works for you. So let him see the wonderful things about you. The woman who is loyal to her family and friends almost to a fault, the girl that takes in stray animals and finds homes for them, cries during sappy movies, volunteers for so many things, you’ve got a good heart, kiddo, and if this guy can’t or doesn’t see those things then I’d say he’s a real tool and not worth your affections. Oh Matty, I’m just me, I sighed, exactly my point he countered back. You’re a pretty good you, the best. But he continued sometimes we guys I am sad to say and he leaned in trying to look menacing but the twinkle in them gave him away, are sometimes big dopes when it comes to noticing great girls like you, and if you ever told anyone I told you that, I’m out of the boys club he said drawing his finger across his throat. I’ll keep it under my hat.
Now how about something to nibble on a couple of drinks, and a game of pool? Sure, why not, as long as it doesn’t turn into one of those, one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor nights. You have my word, as a gentleman and a scholar he said gravely, and we both broke into grins at the thoughts of some nights that had turned out exactly that way. By the time we enjoyed some food, I’d had a couple of glasses of wine and was triumphant over my win at the pool table, I was feeling much more mellow and in control. Hanging with Matt was comforting, but it still didn’t have me any further ahead as to how I was going to capture the future father of my childrens heart.
After a thanks for everything and fond farewell with Matt, I hailed a cab and headed home. I paid the driver, dug my key out of my bag, and walked up the front steps of my building. I loved this place I called home. It was a classic older Victorian that had been converted into three apartments. Which meant the rooms were spacious, there was a window seat, perfect for curling up with a good book or to daydream in, and my pride and joy a giant claw footed bathtub.
I slid the key in the lock, turned the door and entered. I picked up my mail off of the table in the entry way where the landlady Mrs. Silverton always left it waiting next to a vase of freshly cut flowers from the back garden. I then mounted the stairs holding on to the polished oak banister as I began to mount the stairs to the third floor. Ah, home sweet home I sighed inserting the key in the door, I could already hear Barclay meowing plaintively, as if to say “you’re late, and I’ve been worried about you, why didn’t you call and let me know you were going to be late?” Sorry Barclay I said as I caught the orange projectile of fur that launched into my arms, demanding some attention, as I opened the door. I cuddled him to me and kissed his fuzzy little head. Now I’ve got to put you down for a bit while I get sorted out. He purred his assent, as I put him down on a wingback chair, covered in a shade of dusty rose. He looked at me as if to say, all right out with it young lady why are you late?? It’s like this Barclay, I said as I put my things down and wandered down the hall to the bathroom. He hopped off the chair and followed me to better hear my explanation. I’m going to take a shower first, get into something comfy then I’ll get you a snack and tell you all about it, deal? He flicked his tail several times, and seemed to be assessing the offer, a simple but direct “meow, seemed to indicate this was acceptable to him.
I pulled back the curtain that encircled the large claw footed tub, and turned on the water for a shower. I slipped out of my clothes and dropped them into the wicker laundry basket. I carefully stepped over the high edge of the tub and pulled the curtain around it. Man oh man I thought as the hot water, cascaded over me, what a day I’ve had. I ran my fingers through my hair, as my mind played back the day’s events as if I were watching it on a movie screen. No matter what had happened and even if I had made a complete fool of myself in front of him, I just knew he was the man for me. The man of my dreams, and somehow I would have to overcome my awkwardness and shyness and let him know, just how much I cared for him. I grabbed the shampoo bottle and squirted a dollop into my hand and began to work it through my hair, my fingers massaging my scalp and making it tingle. I began to wonder what it would be like to do something as intimate as this for him. To massage his scalp with gentle hands, watching the suds forming, wondering if it made him feel relaxed and loved by having this small thing done for him. I rinsed the soap from my hair, and started with the conditioner. I wanted to leave the conditioner in for a bit so I picked up a washcloth and wetted it, before I added a dollop of body wash to it and began to get a good lather going. I stroked my arms, coating them in lather, raising each arm in turn I washed the delicate underside of my arms, and stretched to do my shoulders. Then back to my neck which I stretched out to elongate, as I lathered it too.
The water pulsated down in a steady stream, little droplets of water running in beads over my lightly suntanned flesh. I noticed the tiny freckles from the sun and started to wonder if he would find the freckles endearing or if he would chide me for not taking more care of myself in the sun. I imagined if he were here, he’d take control of the situation, lathering me up and making sure I was squeaky clean, when done. Large, firm hands that would be ever so gentle in their touch. Fingertips that would explore, the soft curves of my flesh, and would deftly probe those intimate spots that yearned for his touch. Expressing all the love and desires, he harbored within him that he had never shared with another, as he would lean into me from behind, nuzzling the nape of my neck and trailing soft delicate kisses down to my shoulders. His strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into him, his hands gliding along the soapy curves of my body. Feeling his arousal for me grow, as he pressed against me. The warmth that spread throughout my entire body began at the crown of my head to the tips of my toes, the tingling in every fibre of my being lighting up my face.
Mrrrrowwwwwwww, and the spell was broken for the moment. Coming Barclay, I haven’t forgotten, you want your treat, and I’ve been a very inconsiderate roommate, coming home so late. I quickly rinsed of and grabbed a towel. I dried off, and ran a brush though my hair then fluffed my still damp hair with my fingers. I couldn’t see into the foggy mirror about the sink anyways, so I just turned and padded out of the bathroom and down the hall to my bedroom. Barclay followed and hopped up on the bed to keep an eye on me, he couldn’t run the risk I would escape and forget his promised snack. I pulled open a drawer in the bureau and pulled out a well loved and faded but very soft and comfortable, oversized baseball jersey, which had been a gift from one of my brothers years ago. I slipped it over my head, and it fell practically to my knees. Okay buddy snack time to the kitchen we go. Barclay leapt off the bed and landed on the carpet, eagerly leading the way to the kitchen. I opened the cupboard and got out his favourite dish a crystal dessert dish I had picked up some time ago at a yard sale. I opened the fridge and removed a container of vanilla yogurt, and ladled a judicious amount into the dish for my feline roommate. He entwined himself around my ankles rubbing against me, purring like a mad man. I carried the bowl into the living and placed it on the coffee table where he promptly hopped up and started to early attack the yogurt with his rough little pink tongue.
I I flicked on the tv with the remote control and channel surfed looking for something to distract me. My legs were curled up beneath me and I snuggled into the cushions on the sofa. Some sexual goddess I am I thought thinking of my current attire. He probably only wants some woman that’s a flawless beauty, who never freckles or has a sunburnt nose perfect figure, would rather go to the gym than eat warm cookies fresh from the oven, someone always in the latest fashion, not someone that was comfy wearing jeans and a rugby shirt, and a real femme fatale with only sexy lingerie with lacy edgings. But I just know he’s not. He’s the sort of man that would accept me as I am, find me sexy as hell in one of his dress shirts, laugh at me for having a smudge of flour on my cheek, and gently wipe it off, he’d think me a beauty whether I was in jeans or dressed up in stockings and a bustier, because he would know it was for his eyes only. My mind went back and forth on the issue so much as to what he would want from me and what I knew he would want from me that I was driving myself mad as a hatter. I finally flicked off the tv in frustration, time to try and get some sleep I decided. Barclay sat still perched on the coffee table daintily washing his hands and face after his treat, and licking his little chops. Oh well, at least I have one man that I know wants to share my bed for certain. I picked up Barclay in my arms and gave him a cuddle, come on old man, bed time. I silently padded barefoot to bed and climbed under the duvet. I opened the drawer of my nightstand and pulled out my journal and a pen that I kept there. I carefully recorded the events of the day and sighed as I tucked them both back into place, switched off the light and snuggled in as I closed my eyes.
I awoke the next morning feeling remarkably refreshed, and slowly stretched my limbs out. Sweet memories of my dreams the previous night, caused a faint smile to spread across my lips, until it became as wide at the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. It seemed as if I had been dream walking and had invaded his inner most thoughts, and connected with him in way that only kindred spirits who are also soul mates could do. Thoughts of tender love making, sweet kisses that became ardent and demanding in their need and desire. The tantalizing thrill of his touch, longing for more never wanting to break that sacred connection we shared. Lying in one another’s arms in the afterglow, our bodies still pink and warmed, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady even beat of his heart and his breath once rapid becoming slow and even. His arms enveloping me in their strength and yet so loving and gentle, as though his sole purpose was to protect me and keep me safe by his side. Drifting off into, brrrrrrr, brrrrrrrr, brrrrrrrrr, rudely interrupted me.
Snapping back to the real world I was confused for a fleeting moment until I realized it was nothing more than a ringing phone which interrupted my thoughts.
I glanced at the alarm clock and winced, only one person would possibly dare to phone at this hour of the day, and I winced slightly, as I picked up the phone and cradled it against my ear. “Good morning Mom”. I wish you wouldn’t do that, I mean how do you know who’s on the other end of the line it’s very rude of you. Yes Mother, so what’s up? Well I was wondering if you were planning on coming home some weekend soon, Mrs. Cummings , boy Jeffery just moved back and you know he’s single dear, and he’s got a job at an investment firm. I rolled my eyes, as she prattled on about the many virtues of Jeffery. I mean I love my Mom but just when would she let me lead my own life? Unlike my brothers I was the rebel in the family. My brothers both married, local girls they had known all their lives, bought homes, settled down, raised families and had nine to five jobs. I on the other had left after finishing high school, moved to the big city, attended the Culinary Institute, did an apprenticeship and often worked freakishly long shifts. I was the one that if told by some stuff shirted corporate bigwig “that you should dress for the job you want, not the job you have young lady”, I would more than likely take that as a personal challenge and show up the next day in a leather suit dressed like Cat Woman and find myself at a disciplinary hearing as a result. Just no pleasing some people in life I suppose, and not unlike a corporate stuff shirt , my Mom was someone I would rear up against and protest having limits placed on me and expectations of what my life should be and who I should share it with. “Mom I’ve got to go, Barclay needs to be fed and I’ve got to get dressed and head into work……yes Mom, I love you too, give Daddy a kiss for me.” And with that I cradled the phone.
Okay Barclay, let’s look alive buddy. He glanced at me through two little slits barely exposing his eyes, as if to say get real you know I’m NOT a morning person, as he snuggled even deeper into the depths of the pillow he had commandeered. Oh well at least I won’t have to make the bed, mustn’t disturb the lord of the manor.
Having showered the night before and running a bit late now thanks to Mom’s phone call, I quickly dressed, stopped long enough to fill a bowl of kitty kibble and put a fresh bowl of water down for Barclay, grabbed by bag and went tearing out the door, with a final call of Love, ya, Barclay be a good boy, and I’ll see you tonight. I thundered down the stairs, as though I were being chased by a pack of wolves and bolted out the door. Oh crumb, I didn’t make coffee this morning, my mind wailed at me as I trotted down the street to the bus stop. I quickly checked my watch, and darted into the Perc on the corner for a cup of magic elixir to start my day, and don’t forget the toasted bagel, with herbed cream cheese and tomato on it grumbled my stomach. Breakfast in hand I made it to the bus stop with only moments to spare, and leapt up the steps , as the bus doors were about to close. Morning I grinned awkwardly, Metropass in my mouth, coffee and bagel balanced in my hands and bag slug over my shoulder. Fortunately I found a seat and settled in to enjoy breakfast and watch the early morning entertainment, provided compliments of my co commuters.
I quickly polished off breakfast and tucked the wrapper from the bagel in my coffee cup and tucked it into my backpack to toss out later. My mind soon drifting, to thoughts of the magnificent man that I would one day make mine. Suddenly I was struck almost dumb by the realization that I’d have to face him in a few short minutes time. I felt my body begin to tremble as my heart rate quickened. My eyes started to dart about, for a single seat on the bus, as I’d plunked myself down in a double seat this morning, not a single one as I normally did so I could day dream to my hearts’ content and not have to engage anyone in polite early morning banter.Nearly at St. Clair and totally at a loss as to what I should do. We pulled up to the stop and I was in the process of trying to decide if I should bolt off the bus and catch the next one, or should I, and never finished the thought as I looked up and it was already his stop.
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