Read A Life That Fits Online

Authors: Heather Wardell

Tags: #decisions, #romance canada, #small changes

A Life That Fits (6 page)

Without smiling back, she pulled out her
phone and began punching something into it.

I stared.

She looked up and burst out laughing. "I
wasn't doing that! I keep track of my food in here. And I don't
have a list. I don't even know you."

I smiled, relieved. "So the list will wait
until you do?"

"Yup." She set the phone down. "Nah, I don't
think I'm going to hate you. So, tell me about Anna and Gary. They
seem sort of..." She waved a hand, searching for a word.

I waited. I wasn't going to jump in and maybe
say the opposite of what she'd been thinking. That wasn't the kind
of reversal I had in mind.

More hand-waving, then she said,
"Clueless?"

I tipped my head from side to side, agreeing
without saying the words, then explained how they'd come to hold
their jobs. When I finished, she said, "This is great. I don't know
how to fit into a place if I don't know what's happened in the
past. How long have you been working for them?"

"Four years."

She nodded, then looked uncomfortable. "They
said something about your boyfriend. I guess you'd been together a
while?"

"Fourteen years."

She dropped her fork. "Fourteen years with
one guy? Didn't you get bored? Weren't people saying you'd spent
too long with him? I've never made it to fourteen
months
."

I shrugged, not liking the hint of 'you're
boring enough to spend that long with one guy?' in her tone. "I
didn't plan it, it just happened. And yeah, lots of people said
that, especially since we were fourteen when we got together. But I
didn't care. We were really good together and--"

Tears rushed up and I bit my lip, horrified.
I couldn't cry. Not here. Not with her.

She gave me a smile, sympathetic but somehow
distant. "They say it takes half the time you were with someone to
get over him. No wonder you're not exactly joyful just yet. Let's
talk about something else. Yes?"

I nodded, still fighting back the sudden
emotion. We
had
been good together. I'd thought we'd been
amazing. Then the rest of what she'd said hit me. Seven years? If I
didn't get Alex back, it would take me that long to get over him? I
wouldn't be ready for another relationship until I was thirty-five?
"I have to wait seven years to be over him?"

She grimaced. "Hope not, for your sake, but
it's always been pretty accurate for me. But then, my relationships
don't usually last longer than a pair of cheap summer sandals.
Which reminds me, where'd those shoes come from? I like."

I told her, and we chatted easily as we ate
our lunches. I found myself liking her more than I'd expected.
While I still felt like something of an impostor with my flowing
dress and funky toenails, she didn't know I'd been different
before. I could be myself, my new self, with her. Good thing I'd
forced myself past my initial distrust.

When we were putting our trays on the rack, I
spotted a woman I'd seen many times before but had never had the
nerve to speak to. The tall elegantly curvy brunette always wore
fascinating jewelry, and on multiple occasions I'd wanted to
compliment a piece but had thought she'd think I was weird. This
was a prime reversal opportunity.

I told Tina I'd be back upstairs in a minute
and approached the woman, who was busily sorting through a bin of
chocolate bars, hoping she'd be wearing something worthy of
comment. Sure enough, a gorgeous heavy silver bracelet hugged her
right wrist. "Um, excuse me?"

She turned to me, eyebrows raised. She looked
so polished that I'd always assumed she was older than me, but up
close I could tell we were about the same age.

"I, um... I love your bracelet. You have the
best jewelry."

She grinned. "Thank you, I try. This one's
hiding a secret."

"Oh, yeah?"

She eased the strips of metal apart and
showed me a tattoo of vines around her wrist. "My boss frowns on
ink. I've had it a year and she has no idea. Long sleeves or
bracelets every day."

I laughed with her then said, "Well, it's
gorgeous and camouflaging. Double duty."

"I do love my jewelry. I'm Wendy, by the
way."

"Andrea."

She held out that bracelet-adorned arm and we
shook hands.

"Nice to meet you."

"You too." Though it terrified me, I added,
"Would you have coffee with me sometime this week? It'd be nice to
have another friend at work."

She gave a startled laugh. "I love that
you've got the guts to come right out and ask like that. If you'll
teach me how to do it, then sure."

First, have your boyfriend of fourteen years
dump you...

*****

Thrilled with my success at chatting with
Wendy, I decided to take an even bigger step.

On the subway home, I would talk to a
man.

I'd never looked at anyone but Alex in a
romantic way, but without him I was in the land of 'every man is a
possibility'. I didn't want to be there. But so far there'd been no
sign that I'd ever get Alex back, or even speak to him again, so I
would force myself to speak to a strange man now when it didn't
matter so I could do it someday if it did. I'd panicked when faced
with the cute man at the nail polish display, but maybe if I made
the move myself it wouldn't be as awkward.

Wrong.

It was a trillion times more awkward.

I surveyed the people standing around me in
my subway car and found a suitable target just a few feet away,
reasonably good-looking and not wearing a wedding ring. The last
thing I wanted was to interfere in someone else's relationship.

As we lurched along, I devised my plan. I
would ask him for the time, and then I would compliment his watch
or phone or whatever I noticed about him. If that was the end of
the conversation, no problem. Getting one started would be enough
for now.

The subway train paused at the next station,
and when it began to move again I made my move too. "Excuse me, do
you have the time?"

He glanced at me then at his watch. "Five
forty-five."

"Thanks. Hey, that's a nice watch. I like how
it... um..." Tells time? I couldn't think of anything to say about
his plain stainless steel watch.

He looked into my eyes. "Don't bother."

"Don't bother what?"

"Don't bother
me
. I've spent all day
listening to women beg and whine for crap, and I'm not going to
spend my trip home listening to you do the same thing."

"I'm not asking for anything! Except the
time. I just wanted to be friendly."

"Well, don't." He turned his back on me.

I stood stunned, then realized a pack of
teenage girls across the subway car were snickering to themselves.
The people nearest me were silent, but the air seemed to ring with
their thoughts of, "Oh, the poor girl. How humiliating. She must
feel awful."

They were right: I'd never felt so stupid. My
cheeks burning with embarrassment, I clung to the pole in the
middle of the car and stared at my feet, trying to ignore the
girls' laughter and mentally begging the train to hurry up and
reach the next station. It finally did, and though it was nowhere
near where I wanted to be I bolted in horror.

 

Chapter Seven

I sat on a bench on the subway platform long
after the train had gone, feeling sick and shaky, trying to talk
myself out of my embarrassment. I hadn't done anything wrong, or
even anything pushy. The guy's weird response was his problem not
mine, and those kids shouldn't have been laughing at me.

It was all true, but I still felt awful. I
wished I hadn't fled the car. I should have stared those girls down
until they felt as uncomfortable as I had.

I shut my eyes and sighed. How, exactly,
would that have helped? They'd still have thought I was
pathetic.

Which I wasn't. I opened my eyes, took a few
deep breaths, and told myself I wouldn't let that jerk's behavior
control me any more. I'd made a big step. Sure, it hadn't exactly
gone well, but I had made myself speak to a complete stranger. A
man. I'd done it once, and I could do it again. I
would
do
it again.

Though I totally didn't want to, I vowed that
I would do it that night. I would spend the evening out and about
Toronto striking up conversations with ten strangers, five men and
five women.

Ten felt like an enormous number, but on the
bright side it would keep me from going home. Alex and I had always
had dinner at home after work then watched television and snuggled
on the couch until bed time or until we decided to go to bed very
early and
not
sleep, although now that I thought about it we
hadn't spent a work night that way for quite a while.

Sadness at that flooded me, but I took deep
breaths until it passed. Yes, maybe I should have noticed our sex
life going south, but we'd still slept together once a week or so,
even right before I left for my trip, and I'd known we were both
busy so I hadn't thought much of it. Regardless, he shouldn't have
cheated. He should have told me what he wanted from me.

I knew what
I
wanted from me at the
moment, or at least what I wanted
for
me. Going home to the
empty apartment tonight would be the toughest alone time I'd had
since he left since it was such a break to the routine, and I
wanted to protect myself from that. I'd do it tomorrow, but for
tonight I didn't want to face it. Chatting with ten strangers would
be far less painful
and
good for me.

So I took myself out for dinner, to a
restaurant I'd never tried before, and afterward scanned the street
for possible strangers to talk to. When I spotted the adorable fat
black cat on a leash, I knew I'd found a great place to start.

"Your cat's gorgeous."

"Thanks," the man said, and the woman added,
"His name's Buckingham, but we call him Big Buck."

"I can see why." I squatted. "Hey, Big Buck.
How're you doing?"

He studied me with inscrutable green eyes
then yawned.

I looked up at his people. "Can I pat
him?"

They nodded, and I ran my hand over the thick
plushy fur, trying to smooth it where the purple harness around his
neck and chest had ruffled it. As a kid I'd been desperate to get a
cat but my parents hadn't believed my fervent statements that I'd
clean the litter box every day. Probably smart of them, given the
disastrous state of my bedroom most of the time. Alex didn't like
animals in the house so we'd never had a cat either. Now I found
myself wondering what my lease said about pets.

I said over the cat's purring, "I didn't know
you could leash-train a cat."

The woman smiled. "He thinks it's his idea.
That's the only reason it works."

We talked for a few more minutes, and the
woman offered me her card in case I decided to get a cat and wanted
help training it. I accepted, we all smiled at each other, and I
mentally marked one of each off my 'talk to strangers' list. A nice
easy start.

After my experience on the subway I wasn't
sure about approaching single men, but as I wandered I offered my
assistance to two men with matching 'I love Toronto' t-shirts and
French accents who were studying a map and muttering to each other.
They were so delighted when I helped them find their hotel that
they insisted I take a coupon they'd been given for a free slice of
cake at a nearby bakery.

While eating said delicious cake, I started a
conversation with three women at a nearby table who were also
indulging. When they mentioned they could burn it off at their
bellydance class I stretched myself a little further, refusing to
worry if they thought me pushy, and asked when and where. Theirs
was the advanced class, but they cheerfully gave me the information
about Friday's beginners class and I promised I'd go. I'd never
been a dancer, though people assumed I was because of my thin body
and small build, and the sexy nature of bellydance made it seem
like the scariest possible place to begin. So I would begin
there.

They left, and I finished my cake then
waddled out into the street, stuffed solid. Moving slower than
before, I was passing a jewelry stand when I saw a man with
earrings in both hands and a confused expression. I cleared my
throat, pushing away the memories of my awkwardness with the nail
polish guy and the jerk on the subway, and said, "Trying to make a
decision?"

He looked up. "Trying and failing."

I smiled. "Who are they for?"

"My girlfriend."

He didn't hesitate to say it, and I liked it.
This one wouldn't assume I was after him, or be after me. "Just for
a present, or is there an occasion?"

He sighed. "Her grandmother died last night.
I know earrings can't fix that but she's always liked the jewelry
here so I thought..." He shrugged helplessly.

The back of my throat tightened. So sweet.
"I'm sure it'll help. And it's nice of you. So, why these
pairs?"

She'd apparently said one was pretty the last
time they'd been by, and the other was a perfect match to a
necklace he pointed out, which she'd bought from the stand a few
weeks back and wore often.

"Then I say the second pair."

"Really? But I know she likes the other
one."

"True. But you also know she likes the
necklace, and this way she'll know you
noticed
the
necklace."

He considered this then said, "I get it. And
I'll get them. Thanks."

I smiled. "No problem. I hope she loves
them."

"Me too. Hey, thanks for the help."

I smiled again. "My pleasure."

Moving on, feeling proud of myself for
helping and for stretching my wings, I realized I only needed one
more of each gender to complete the task I'd set. To my surprise, I
didn't want to stop yet. With every successful contact, the memory
of the subway guy became less painful.

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