The quote said quite enough.
“A self is not something static, tied up in a pretty parcel and handed to the child, finished and complete. A self is always becoming.”
― Madeleine L'Engle, A Circle of Quiet
Thank you for reminding me of this…
She breathed in to bring in the scent of the blood red roses. They were beautiful and romantic. And he’d once again quoted L’Engle to her. She shook her head. Why was he spending so much time on her?
When you do things you really do them over the top.
Once again she heard the woman’s voice. Only, she was at work, and she didn’t have time to be crazy right now. She sat back down at her computer. The roses were lovely and they seemed like they belonged to someone other than her. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly why she had that ridiculous thought.
Once was okay. Twice was a theme. And she wasn’t a roses girl.
Maybe he didn’t realize that. They’d had a very expensive dinner the night before. Perhaps he’d come to think that was the kind of thing she needed all the time. But, she didn’t and, at this point, she had no idea how to even process two dozen roses in two days.
She stared at her computer screen. The words seemed to blend together like she didn’t know how to read. Who cared about property law when there was Alec and his grand gestures? She stared down at her phone. Lunch seemed like a really good idea or at least a walk around the block.
The problem was, she decided as she exited the building, she could easily be swept away by him. She could close her eyes, and he could be a perfect kind of prince. Even though such a thing didn’t exist in real life.
Blood and sex.
Where had that thought come from?
*
Alec paced the length of his home. He’d been up for hours before the sun sank. The phone rang, which startled him, and he jolted over to where it sat attached to the wall. Essence had one of those cell phones, he’d seen it in her bag. She hardly had a place to live, but she had a phone that didn’t need wires. He should have gotten out of the house more in the last fifteen years.
“Hello?” He cleared his throat.
“Oh, hi. Alec?” It was Essence’s voice, and it stopped his discomfort immediately. How could she do that? Soothe his ache with just three words?
He needed to answer her. “Essence. Hello.”
“I hope it’s okay that I got your phone number out of your file. I know you don’t email. This is okay, right?” She was rambling. He couldn’t smell her fear, but he knew enough to hear it now. She was nervous to have called.
“Let me set you at ease. I am happy you called.” He actually was. Since he was awake, the problem with the sun seemed less aggravating. “Everything okay with tonight?”
He really hoped she wasn’t cancelling. He’d been looking forward to it, which was really surprising considering he’d not looked forward to anything in so long he couldn’t remember when he last had.
“Yes, I mean, if you still want to take me out after what I have to say.”
Alec sat down on the stairs. “That sounds ominous.”
“I loved the flowers. Thank you for them. But, you don’t need to do large things like that for me. I have the feeling you’re sending them for either the wrong reasons or like they’re for someone else. I’m not really a roses person. I don’t know how to do fancy. That black dress you saw me in last night? It’s the only thing I can wear to a place like that other than work clothes.” She took an audible deep breath. “I’m not really a two dozen roses girl. If that’s okay, I’d like to see you again.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Of course it’s okay.”
The sad part was she was exactly right. He’d had no idea what to do after their date and so he left instructions with what to send and what to put on the card. But, she wasn’t a roses girl. He could tell last night. Constantia had loved them. Their homes had been decorated from floor to ceiling in them all the time. It was what he knew how to do.
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m not grateful. I am. But, I don’t want you to think you have to send me flowers. You don’t.”
Essence kept throwing him off his game. “Purple carnations. I bet you’d like them.”
She laughed. “Actually, I would. Purple carnations. I love them.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t send you a dozen tomorrow. See you at nine?”
“Yes, I’ll be ready. In my jeans. I hope that’s okay. I have to get to a laundromat.”
He was going to rethink the whole evening.
They got off the phone, and he started brainstorming. What should he do with her in jeans on Halloween night at nine o’clock in Manhattan? Did he even own jeans?
The phone rang again. She must have forgotten something. He grinned. Phone calls. He could get used to this. Maybe she could start calling around two in the afternoon. It would almost be like he could leave the house.