* * *
Later, after dressing and downing a bagel with cream cheese, I got Hugo ready for his walk. We'd just started down the steps when the door was flung open. G came charging in. I jumped in panic wondering if someone was chasing him, then I saw his grin.
Before I could get a word out, he swooped me up into a bear hug, spinning me around. Hugo was jumping and knocking us both sideways in his confusion at G's uncharacteristic exuberance, but G just kept bouncing us and whooping.
Rosa stepped into the hall to see what all the commotion was about.
"G! Put me down!" I was breathless from him squeezing me, but I was laughing. His joy was infectious.
"I got it, Lady C!" he leapt and like an NBA player going in for a basket, tapped the Exit sign hanging from the ceiling. "I got it!" he fist-pumped the air on his landing.
"Got what, mijo?" Rosa said through laughter as G treated her to a bear hug of her own. She was barefoot and covered in an apron. The aroma's wafting from her open door were testament to her domestic capabilities.
G grinned and said, "You're looking at the new DJ for Club CC which just opened in Georgetown." He bowed as he finished and both Rosa and I clapped and offered our congratulations. "You made it possible, Charlotte." He hugged me again and dropped a chaste kiss on my cheek.
I flushed as unexpected pride swirled in my chest. Something painful, like a cramp, locked around my heart and tears burned in my eyes. He'd done it. Hugo spared me from the need to say anything by nudging G for some attention.
Laughing, G dropped down and began scratching Hugo around the ears as he continued. "The owner was at The 9:30 Club the night I did my set. He liked that I was so diverse and tracked down my contact info. I just left a meeting with him." He met my gaze. His eyes were damp. "If you hadn't convinced Lou to back off about school, I wouldn't have been able to say yes. I owe you."
Normally, I collected IOUs the way some people collect stamps. The only thing more powerful than information is someone indebted to you. Yet, I felt none of my usual pulls. I even surprised myself by saying, "Nope, we're square. I was happy to do it."
Most shocking of all? It was true. Good thing I had another appointment with Dr. Scribens that week.
"Come on you two," Rosa gestured for us to follow her. "This calls for a celebration and I was just putting the finishing touches on some rice pudding. I even have something special for Hugo."
We followed her without question. No one turned down Rosa's food.
* * *
Two hours later, I was still smiling as I walked to Kona. My belly was full. She'd insisted on feeding us some delectable empanadas and aqua fresca. Rosa had described it as a light fruit drink she'd made with watermelon.
I couldn't get over how different my life had become. In just a few short months, I'd gone from being an outsider in my own life, to having friends, and a dog to whom I had grown attached.
It wasn't that I'd had a personality transplant or anything. The usual opportunistic soundtrack was still there. But it was as if the fact that I was knocked so far out of my comfort zone when Adam left had also dissolved my filters.
As a result, there wasn't a single person in my life now that I'd had to lie to in order to get something from them. I was just being me and they accepted me. The depth of emotion that punched into me at that realization almost brought me to tears. Thankfully, I'd reached my destination. So as not to embarrass myself, I ducked into the bathroom and spent a few minutes pulling myself together.
All these emotional shocks were so draining. I almost longed for my former solitude just so I would know what to expect. Even as the thought formed, I knew it wasn't true. I may still be alone, but I was no longer lonely.
I splashed water on my face, touched up my makeup, and took some deep breaths. Henry was too perceptive and these feeling were too new. I wanted to let them germinate and grow more comfortable to bear before discussing them.
I halted mid-stride at that thought. Was I seriously considering proactively discussing my emotions with Henry? What in the world was happening to me?
When had I come to trust him so much? What did I know about him? How could I be certain he wasn't just storing up information like I'd always done and was merely waiting for the right moment to pounce?
Paranoia clawed at me, making my stomach roil and perspiration bloom across my flesh. I had to calm down. Locking myself into a stall, I tried to clear my mind and just breathe.
My mind didn't clear. Instead, a series of memories flashed through my brain. Henry calling me out for lying. Henry being blunt about Adam, telling me sex was not his goal, keeping his word again and again and again.
My lungs unlocked and my shoulders relaxed. The truth: it had always been easier for me to assume the worst than to trust. For the first time in my life, I was going to let the evidence speak for itself.
I was going to trust Henry.
4. Evidence Schmevidence
I LEFT THE BATHROOM AND got in line. The familiar hiss of the espresso machines and the rattle of plates and silverware was balming to my stretched nerves. I ordered an affogato knowing the espresso over vanilla gelato would give me exactly the boost I was looking for. Moving over to the pickup bar as I waited, I scanned the café.
It was packed now that the universities were back in session. A group of students occupied my favorite table. They were studying much more than the textbooks littering the table top. Leaving them to their business, I continued surveying the crowd, wondering if I'd missed Henry.
I saw no sign of him. All lightness fled and my chest grew tight. I missed seeing him. Email was cool, but it was nothing like talking with him face-to-face.
"Affogato!"
I jumped as the barista hollered out my order for pick up. Shoving some bills in the tip jar, I turned for one more look at the crowd. Sectioning off the café in a grid, I scanned every quarter scrutinizing each face. I'd have made a marine proud.
In the far corner, partially obscured by a large wooden pillar sat Henry. I grinned and began navigating the crowd. He wore a Suzanne Vega concert T-shirt with jeans. I think I'll buy him a tweed jacket just to mess with him.
My grin dissolved as I neared, stopping midway. Henry was engaged in conversation with a young woman that was pretty in a geek-girl-meets-exotic kind of way. She was ethnically vague with almond eyes, glossy raven hair shot through with bright blue locks. She wore cat style glasses and a baggy t-shirt adorned by a diagram of some molecule that did nothing to hide her voluptuous shape.
They leaned in towards each other, their heads close. They were looking at something on the table between them. She spoke and Henry laughed. At the sound of his laughter directed at someone else, my brain short circuited. Jealousy jack-knifed through me. I wanted to leap across that table and cover her ears so she couldn't hear those notes I felt so possessive of.
As stupid as it was, I'd always thought that particular laugh, so joyous and light, was just for me. To hear it shared with another woman felt like getting kicked in the stomach.
All my ingrained habits flared. Thoughts of barbed words and malicious comments crawled from the tar pit in my brain to which they had receded. I didn't want this painful feeling. I began to twist and shape it the way a blacksmith forged metal into a verbal weapon. I wanted the act of destruction to immolate the pain I was feeling.
Just as I began to move in for the kill, Henry noticed me. The transformation in his face was stunning. His grin deepened. His eyes shone. He stood and said something to the woman as he gestured toward me. My brain sought to reconcile this alongside the noticeable lack of fear, embarrassment, or shame. I ignored the question of why I thought he should have felt any of those things to begin with.
A question I had no answer for began pin-balling around my brain: where did that reaction come from and what did it say about my feelings for Henry?
I was distracted from my thoughts as Henry held a chair for me and introduced me to his companion.
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"Charlotte, I'd like you to meet Renée, my second in command."
Renée was gracious as we shook hands, though her gaze was speculative. Up close, she was older than she appeared from a distance. Her hair and clothing lent her a youthful appearance, but she was likely in her late twenties.
"Renée and I were just—" Henry broke off as a coughing fit wracked him. "Bloody hell!" he said when he finally caught his breath. "I've picked up a nasty cold. As I was saying, Renée and I were strategizing some last minute projects before I leave."
"Leave? Where are you going?" I didn't hide my confusion. He'd said nothing about leaving. Panic flared again as I tried to assimilate what he was saying.
He smiled, "My eldest is graduating from Uni and I'm going to spend a few weeks visiting family and friends while I'm there."
"Eldest? I didn't know you had children," despite myself, it came out as an accusation.
He blushed and began to respond except Renée interjected. "Typical Henry. He'll get you to talk your head off, but say nothing about himself." To Henry she said, "What's Judith planning to do with herself after?"
She knew his daughter's name. She had intimate knowledge of Henry that I didn't. What else didn't I know? My resolution to trust Henry splintered like safety glass in an auto accident.
"Paris," he grimaced as the spoke. "She's determined to make a go of it in the city of lights."
I said nothing, feeling out of place as they discussed Henry's trip. Or, should I say, Renée prodded Henry for details and he responded. In a short time, I learned Henry had another child who was still in school, an ex-wife, and no siblings.
His fidgeted as he spoke and I began to wonder how much he'd been hiding things or if he were truly uncomfortable discussing himself. It also shamed me to realize, I'd never even asked him any of these questions.
Before long, Renée checked her watch and left to go check on progress at a client site. Left alone, Henry and I were silent for a while. Honestly, I had no idea what to say. My extreme reaction to seeing him with another woman combined with my discomfort at realizing how one-sided our friendship was had left me unsettled.
Henry broke the silence, "I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. I made these plans when you'd disappeared and didn't think of it again until it was time to pack." He nodded over his shoulder and I noticed the rolling suitcase next to the wall.
Surprise speared me all over again, "You're leaving today?" I heard the tremble in my voice. "How long will you be gone?" Now, it was growing shrill. I ruthlessly locked that down.
He placed a warm hand over mine. I was tempted to snatch it away, but it felt too good. Truth be told, I liked it.
"Charlotte, I'll be back. It's only a few weeks."
I shrugged, "I'm just surprised. I don't like surprises." I don't. You can't plan for them or ensure an outcome. But, I didn't say any of that.
Giving me a knowing look, Henry said, "Maybe, you should give them a try."
I shrugged again saying, "I'll think about it."
He smiled that soul deep smile, stealing my breath before he said, "I have to go. My plane is in a few hours and security at Reagan National is ridiculous."
I nodded and stood with him. He pulled up the handle on his suitcase. I also noticed he had a carry on duffel.
"I—" what I was about to say was lost as Henry released the handle and enveloped me in a hug. He was warm and his soapy scent filled in the empty spaces. All thought disintegrated as I felt the soft, sweet kiss he pressed to my forehead.
"You'll survive without me," his voice was as warm as the heat coming off his skin.
If all surprises were like this, I just might grow to like them after all.
* * *
Text Message Exchange Between Renée and Henry
Renée: You've been holding out on me, Henry.
Henry: I have no idea of what you speak, madam.
Renée: Okay, we'll play it that way if you want.
Henry: I play at nothing!
Renée: Sure, sure. Whatever you say, boss. She's pretty.
Henry: She's also young enough to be my child.
Renée: Your children are actually much, much younger than she is. Quit being a stuffed shirt.
Henry: Have you noticed how I stuff my shirt lately? Young women like toned men with hard bodies. Not grey-haired blokes gone snuggly in their later years.
Renée: From the way she wanted to rip my hair out, I'd say she likes 'grey-haired blokes' … just sayin.
Henry: Get to work, you little minx! What do I pay you for?
Renée: My expertise, boss. My expertise, so you might want to listen.
Henry: Plane to catch. Talk later.
Renée: Safe travels.
5. Step Nine: Making Amends
I WAS ABLE TO DISTRACT myself with work for a few hours after Henry left. Things had taken a decided upturn for me and I'd secured a few new contracts. Between Henry's unexpected physicality--which was notably more satisfying than random sex--and my company's growing revenue, I was floating on a feeling somewhere between satisfaction and euphoria.
I liked this feeling. Most especially what I liked was how independent it was. Did I lose you there? You see, more often than not, my emotions are reflections of circumstance or driven by an imperative for gain. For example, "I'm lonely" leads to "I need a man" which leads to yearning for and then acquiring a suitable target.
My desire is wholly situational and not based on the individual in question. You could even say, to some extent, it's manufactured. Another example: I launched my company only after Adam made it clear I had to do something to contribute when I was laid off. I had never wanted to be a business owner. I didn't want the responsibility. As a result, I did the bare minimum. I did what it took because the situation called for it and being in charge fed my ego, not because I cared about the success of the company.
What is so radical about my current situation is that I derive no tangible gain from Henry and yet, I find I want to know him. The same goes for G, Rosa, and even Louis who has been coming around more often now that he and his brother had worked things out.
I'd been my true self with each of these people and they hadn't rejected me. Instead, they accepted me. But—and here was the amazing part—it wasn't unconditional like I'd always thought it had to be. None of them were afraid to call me out if they felt it was warranted. But, they never made me feel accused and shameful the way my parents and all the men in my life had. Instead, they made me search inside myself and question my personal assumptions. These new and unexpected relationships made me want to be a better human being!
I couldn't tell you why now, why these people, but it didn't matter.
My alarm dinged and I began packing up. Hugo and I had a date with Gloria for obedience class. Our first few lessons had been private, but she felt Hugo (that's what she said, but I'd clued in that she meant me) was ready to mix with the other dogs.
It was an all bully-breed class since they come with their own special challenges. I was nervous. I'm always so embarrassed when I have to do something unfamiliar in front of strangers. The only thing worse was doing it in front of people I knew.
It was worth it for Hugo. My relationship with him had changed during our classes. Glo had taught me to read his body language. I was growing fluent in ear placement and tail twitches. And, with that knowledge, I'd found a rhythm with Hugo.
Weirdly, if it weren't for Henry, I think I would have stopped going to Kona. Home was no longer a cage and Hugo filled the spaces. All my unconditional, I got from him. Even more bizarre, I found myself wanting to be worthy of his love.
When I arrived home, it was to find Hugo napping on his bed. I suspected he still snuck in some unauthorized naps on my bed, but I had never confirmed that. He had also stopped destroying things. In return, I'd bought him several chew toys.
By the time I shut the door, he had done his signature pit bull waggle over to me. The one where his tail whipped bac
k and forth so hard, his whole body shook. I knelt down and gave him a vigorous scratch all over and he gave me a single, gentle lick along the shell of my ear.
That was one trait that I'd grown to adore in him. He was not indiscriminate with his kisses the way so many dogs were. When Hugo licked you, you had earned it. Gloria hadn't even gotten a lick from him yet!
Did it qualify as odd that one lick from my dog meant more than all the flowers, presents and orgasms from previous boyfriends?
When we got to the shelter, the back parking lot had been transformed with cones and a make-shift obstacle course. We were joined by a handful of pit bulls along with a German shepherd, a rottweiler, and an enormous Neapolitan mastiff which seemed much closer to a slobbering horse than a dog.
We had only just assumed our place between the rottie and the mastiff when Gloria called the class to order. For the next forty-five minutes, she put us and our dogs through our paces. Hugo excelled at sit and down, but he still liked to sniff and loiter on walking. The obstacle course proved too interesting for him to contain himself. We still had some work to do, but overall I was one proud mama.
Hell! That thought actually went through my head. I was two seconds away from showing strangers the photo collection of my dog!
I looked at Hugo in a perfect down next to me. His eyes were shining and his jaw was split in a grin, his tongue lolling out. He was the picture of canine pride.
My heart swelled and I couldn't resist burying my face in his ruff to hide my damp eyes. Screw it. Pulling out my phone, I snapped a picture of my grinning boy.
"You guys looked good out there." It was a voice I never thought to hear again.
Oh, hell.
I froze, cursing, as every hair on my body went ramrod straight in the wake of Adam's voice sounding over my shoulder. Hugo, sensing my tension, stiffened and began scrutinizing Adam, but made no move to rise. I gave him a treat to reward his discipline and forced myself to relax.