A Chance for Sunny Skies (18 page)

That worked out fine until she called me over a while later. She waved, smiled sweetly, and gave out a little "yooo-hooo” as she flapped her eyelash extensions my way. I turned around, no one. Side to side, no one. She pointed at me and nodded like a toddler picking out a candy from the store.

I flinched and walked forward, clipboard up and shielding (officially loving whoever came up with the whole clipboard idea). "Yes?" I asked, while turning my head away slightly to lessen the blow of whatever was about to happen.

"Hey, you." There was a bit of a sneer in her face as she addressed me, but she held it together and continued. "Would you mind getting me a hot tea?" Her voice was so sweet I got an immediate stomach ache.

I narrowed my eyes at her. She'd called me "you" instead of "it" this time. What did that mean?

She pointed her super-long French manicured fingernails at her throat. "It helps my voice before I get on camera."

My shoulders relaxed a little and I started to nod. Maybe she wasn't so bad, maybe she'd been cranky when we met before.

"Oh, and make sure it's extra hot, K?"

I nodded and walked away, looking over my shoulder every few steps to make sure she wasn't coming at me with a knife or one of her pointed nails, but she didn't and I felt like everything was going to be okay by the time I came back with the hot mug. Okay except for the extra hot water was seriously trying to burn through the KMPO 4 mug and my skin as I walked onto the floor.

Either Burt turned on her overhead lighting as she saw me or I was right, she really was warming up to me, because she lit up, smiled, and walked toward me, hands outstretched. I followed suit, smiling, stretching her drink toward her. What great friends we'd become in just a short time. I imagined how we'd laugh and tell the story of how rude she had been before she'd gotten to know me.

The gap between us closed and I started to slow down, you know, to make the hand-off, but Jeannette didn't slow. Not one sweet bit. She came at me, hands still outstretched and I realized what she was going to do. My eyes flicked up to meet hers, but all that I saw was evil, flaming, pools of mean under a thin veil of pink eye shadow and glitter.

Those well-manicured hands knocked that steaming mug out of my hands, all down the front of me, down my arms, and onto the floor.

"Just stood there?" Rainy asked, her words following one long, you've-got-to-be-kidding gasp through the phone.

"Yep, and she managed the whole thing without getting a hot drop on her." I scowled. She would definitely
not
get my shiny dog collar now.

"Oh, Sun. I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?"

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, at my third-date-with-Brian outfit of jeans and a cute, flowing, green top, and at the splash of still-red-after-a-day skin poking out the top of my shirt. "I'm fine. I was lucky. My shirt saved me from the worst of it. I pulled it away from me so the heat didn't stay close to my skin for long."

"Now I get why you couldn't be at yoga today. We missed you, though."

I sighed, still not the happiest about missing my yoga class, but the day after the burn had been too painful to move and stretch, no matter what I had told Rainy about how
fine
I was.

"How was the rest of your second day with the Hair-sprayed Horribles?"

I flopped face first down on my bed. "Ugh. Pretty sure I should be filing a formal grievance or sexual harassment suit for the things Ken said to me today. Even though he seems tame now compared to The Devil Wears Pink. I had to wear a lower cut shirt 'cause my ladies got the worst of the hot water and having anything on them stings like the dickens. Well, that tiny blond hose beast giggled every time she saw my red skin."

"Giggled? Shit, that's like pure evil." I heard Rainy shudder through the phone.

All I could do was nod. The evil was palpable in the air in the morning with Ken, but I felt damn-near suffocated by it when Jeannette showed up.

There was a knock on my door, I stole a look at the clock, and messed with my hair one last time.

"Hey, Rain. I gotta go. Brian's here." Just saying those last two words twisted my frowning, I-had-a-shit-day-at-work mouth into an excited grin that made my reflection positively glow.

Rainy let out an excited squeal and said a quick "have fun" before she hung up.

I tossed my phone into my purse and opened the door. My knees felt slightly weak as I saw him standing there, smiling, waiting for me. My stomach flipped and my lungs pulled tight in nervous anticipation.

He wore a dark blue and green plaid button up short-sleeve collared shirt, not tucked in, but still really classy with a nice pair of jeans. His hair was slightly messy in that wonderful can-I-run-my-fingers-through-it? way. His best feature was still his smile. It traveled up to his eyes as they landed on me.

Until he looked down (because, come on).

"Holy hell, Sunny. What happened?" He stepped forward and his hand shot out to my red, burnt, chest before realizing where he touched me, turning red himself, and pulling his hand back with a tight smile.

I looked to the ground and gave a small wave. "Oh, nothing. I had a little accident with hot tea at work yesterday. I'll tell you all about it later." I smiled, trying desperately to make him stop looking at me like I was damaged.

This man was not one to be waved off. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked quietly. His eyes tightened and, before I knew it, he had pulled me into a hug.

At first, I chuckled and said, "Seriously, Brian. Yes, I'm fine," my words muffled into his shirt. But he was warm and solid and smelled like a sun kissed forest of cinnamon sticks and I melted into him. My eyes fluttered closed. Then he pulled away.

"Sorry, I --." He ran hand through his hair and looked at the ceiling.

I smiled and (after taking a super deep breath) reached out and grabbed his fingers. His eyes shot down to our hands and up to my face. Red embarrassment still colored his cheeks, but he returned my smile.

"Thanks for being worried," I said, my words coming out softer and tighter than I expected because I meant it.

Only weeks before I had almost drowned and hadn't anyone to tell, to care. Now, after a burn from hot water, I had people ready to cart me off to the hospital. I let my fingers fall away from his and rubbed my hands up and down my arms, smoothing out the goose-bumps of disbelief.

"So," I said, recovering back into excited-for-our-date mode. "Where are we headed tonight?"

"My favorite restaurant." His face was still flushed, but now it seemed light with anticipation instead of hot and worried.

I grabbed my purse and keys. "I can't wait."

Brian wouldn't tell me where we were going and insisted I tell him all about what happened. So I sat back and talked as he drove, each turn easy, memorized. His listening faces were the best. I almost forgot I was telling a story a few times because I loved watching him scoff, get angry, laugh, and focus too much. Yeah, he still got mad, even though the story was a bit of an abridged version (I didn't quite feel like outlining my whole bullied past for him on only our third date).

He shook his head. "Wow. I sit in a cubicle and talk to people through my headset all day. That sounds amazing."

I shrugged. "Amazing. Eh. I wouldn't go that far." I was about to tell him about the whole idea that this was just a step toward a career in meteorology thing, hoping that if I started saying it aloud it might get easier to believe, stop making me break into cold sweats, and start to feel right. The-universe-wants-me-to-do-this right. That was when we pulled into a gravel parking lot and crunched to a stop.

In front of us sat a small cottage-like house that I had driven past a few times over the last few years, but could never figure out what it was. All of the windows were framed with white lights that mixed with the warm, yellow light of old lamps and chandeliers that radiated in the twilight. It seemed packed with people and the sounds of conversations and utensils clinking on dishes streamed out of the open windows. The atmosphere emanating from the building reminded me of Rainy's place. It was cute, artsy. Not perfect, but warm and handmade.

Brian smiled and nodded. "Welcome to Ruby's." He got out and opened my door just as he'd done on our first date. I wrapped my arm through his and we walked toward the building. We passed a small, handmade sign that read, "Ruby's" in curly cutouts. No wonder I never knew it was a restaurant; they were practically hiding out.

Being early spring, the cold was still clinging to the darker parts of the day, wrapping its goose bump inducing fingers around anything once the sunlight left it to fend for itself. That night, it wasn't just a chill that was settling over the valley as the sun went down, but rain, too. As Brian pulled the front door open, I could hear drops begin to fall on the leaves outside and clatter on the roof as it started to pour. I pulled my sweater tighter around my shoulders as we entered.

A young girl in a black dress greeted us, but all I could seem to pay attention to was the smell. First there was garlic. Oh, heavenly garlic. Then scents of basil and thyme and rosemary and every other amazing herb you can imagine floated around me and were joined by the yeasty perfection of baking bread. Though the best by far was the smell of cheese crisping on the tops of dishes I could picture bubbling in the oven.

My throat let out an involuntary "mmmmmm." My cheeks heated up as I looked to Brian, but he only smiled, put his hand on the small of my back, and let me walk in front of him as the hostess led us over to a cozy table by one of the windows. She leaned over us and started to pull the sash down, since the weather had turned, but I stopped her with an, "Oh. We don't mind it staying open." My eyes flicked over to Brian to check. He smiled, nodded, and the girl left us.

Once we were alone, I couldn't help but look around, the place was so fun and interesting. Every table was different as were most of the chairs, creating a mismatched perfection. There were two booths on one wall and a small, mahogany bar across from us. The whole place couldn't have been more than a thousand square feet.

Where everything else seemed antiqued and second-hand, there were bright spots that you'd think would stand out, seem non-sequitur, but they worked. Like the art. There were stunning pieces hanging all over the room in elaborate frames. There were also three sparkling chandeliers hanging down, one close to our table, that made the whole room seem cozy, warm, and elegant. Instinctually, I closed my eyes and breathed in the sound of rain splattering outside while we were safe and warm inside. The smell of warm earth and rain mixed with the herbed and spiced inside air.

"So you like it?" Brian's eyes watched me expectantly.

I nodded. "It's wonderful." My eyes wandered around the place again, not yet able to take it all in.

Brian handed me a cream-colored menu and said, "You haven't even seen the best part yet."

He was right, everything looked amazing. The food was Italian and that was always good with me. My stomach pulled at my ribs as I read each dish and imagined how delicious it would be, it must be, if it tasted half as good as everything in here smelled.

"I recommend the spinach béchamel lasagna, but I understand if you want to order for yourself," he said, putting his menu down, already decided.

The breath I had been holding while I tried to decide rushed out of me. "Thank you. There's no way I could have decided. It all looks great." I laughed and he smiled.

Our waitress was a bustling, brunette, middle-aged woman named Mimi, who as I learned when she recognized Brian and he introduced us, also owned the restaurant with her sister.

"She cooks, I run the front, mostly." Mimi shrugged and tucked a hand towel into one of the lower pockets on her apron. "What can I get you tonight?" She pulled out a pad of paper, chuckled, and put it away. "Well, I know what you're going to have," she said to Brian and then looked at me.

"Make that two." I handed her my menu and she took Brian's and left.

Brian leaned in close. "Sorry. I may come here from time to time."

He did that half smile and I was tempted to lean even closer and give him another kiss, but then Mimi came back with water and a tall cup with thin, crispy looking breadsticks sticking out of the top. The sound of the ice and water rushing, clinking into our classes, the crisp and crack of Brian breaking a breadstick and handing half to me, the continued pattering of rain outside, it all made me want to sink down in and sit deep in this soundtrack forever.

As we snacked and sipped, we talked more about music and movies, but Brian seemed to want to get deeper because he started asking questions, deliberate queries like the ones I had memorized and asked him on our first date.

"So tell me more about your friends," he said. "I know I've met Rainy, but how did you guys meet? Who else do you hang out with?" He rested his chin in his palm and watched me.

I bit my lip and panic made my nerve endings tingle and jump. Rainy and I met because of my near death visions, the same way I met Brian. How could I tell him that without sounding like a crazy person?

Sure, Rainy hadn't freaked out when I told her, but she was into all of that universe, karma, name-itis, woo woo stuff. Brian was a business man, neat freak and I really didn't think our third date was the time to expose the craziest, most unbelievable thing to happen to me in the last twenty-six years.

"Oh, she owns a tea shop and I went there one day." I smiled, unsure if this was working. "And, you know, we hit it off and started hanging out." I took a sip of water and tipped my head. "That's it, nothing crazy." (Yeah, right.)

He nodded. "Okay."

"Then I met Anna and Lizzy through yoga and they're kind of my main people I hang out with.” (Or only ones.) I shrugged. "You?"

Brian's eyes scrunched together as his face lifted and brightened. "Jack, the guy you met with me on the street, he's been my friend since," he rubbed his hand up and down his neck, "gosh, probably third grade. He's kind of like a brother to me." He smiled and motioned with his hand. "Hence the whole playing football with my shoe incident. He's my roommate, too. Other than Jack," Brian looked up as if a long list of his friends hung on the ceiling, "I hang with a few guys I went to college with and some from work, but my best friends are the two guys I shoot with, Rich and Stewart."

My eyebrows flew up and my head jerked back. I had taken a sip of water at that point and I almost coughed it up. It felt like I'd swallowed a piece of ice and it lodged in my throat. Shoot with? Was Brian some sort of gun enthusiast? I licked my lips and tried to clear the discomfort from my throat. I guess I could be okay with that. I'd just never pictured myself with a gun-ho guy, but this was Brian.

"Shoot." I said, not sure if I wanted it to be a question or a statement.

Brian only laughed. "Archery, Sunny. Not guns. I shoot arrows from bows." He squinted and smiled. "It's kind of my hobby, like yoga is for you."

"Oh!" Relief made me laugh and I'm sure turn red. "Ha! Archery. That's cool." I looked at his arms and realized that's why they were so solid.

Brian shook his head and looked down. "I know it doesn't sound very cool. That's why I didn't say anything about it the other night. It's okay. People think it's nerdy and maybe it is, but --"

"No, Brian. Really." I put my hand on his and he met my pleading gaze. "I think it's great." It was the truth.

His eyes brightened again. "Thanks. I'd really like it if you could --"