Very optimistic of him. I hope he’s right.
peony
I spend the whole next day of work wondering when I’m going to run into Rupert. I make a nice lunch for us, but when Kellen arrives in the kitchen, he informs me that Mr. Edgewood’s gone out for the day.
“Gone out?” Where does someone go when they look like he does? I didn’t think he could leave the house. “Where?”
“To visit Giancarlo. A very old friend of his. If you want to clean his quarters, this would be a good time.”
I suppose it’s been a few weeks now, so I abandon my current project and haul my vacuum up the stairs and downthe hall of the east wing. Rupert’s kept the curtains open since the last time I was here, which I’m happy to see. It can’t be good for him to live in the darkness. We all need some sunshine now and then, even if just for our health.
The carpets are less clogged with fur this time, and so are the drains. Now the hole in the chair makes sense, as does the long hair I find all over the bathroom. I make a note to buy him some fresh candles next time I’m in town.
I’m strangely sad that day, though, knowing Rupert is gone. I wonder if he’ll be back for dinner, or if I should throw together something simple for Kellen and me.
When I finally hear his big SUV roll down the driveway, I head right to the garage to wait for him. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with how eager I am to see Rupert again, and my heart’s already thrumming faster. I clasp my hands behind me as the garage door opens, then I hear the roar of the engine before it’s cut off.
The moment Rupert’s inside, I want to hug him. Instead, I patiently wait until he hangs up his key and notices me, my smile growing. He answers with one of his own.
“Peony! I’m surprised to see you.”
I’m itching to be closer, but after the way he ended our kiss yesterday, I don’t want to push him.
“I was surprised you went out today.”
Rupert arches a brow, then hangs up his coat. When he turns to face me again, he tentatively holds out one hand.
I’m not sure what he’s asking, but I place my palm in his anyway. He clasps it, then gently, uses it to pull me toward him.
Finally, I get that hug I wanted. I bury my face in his chest, marveling at how soft and warm and comforting he is. I can hear his chuckle rumble under my cheek.
“I’m happy to see you, too,” Rupert murmurs into my hair.
Then we disengage, and I hastily change my dinner plans to something a little more exciting.
Rupert seems to be in a marvelous mood at the table, gesturing with surprising vehemence. I wait for him to tell me about Giancarlo, but he doesn’t, asking me instead about my ingredient choices and cooking techniques.
I wonder if it’s part of his story, the one he’s not ready to tell me yet. When will he be ready?
rupert
It is, of course, incredibly lovely to come home to find Peony waiting eagerly for me. There’s nothing quite so endearing as the way she springs at me when I welcome her into my arms, as if we’re married and I just got home from work.
What a wonderful and normal life that would be, to always be welcomed home in such a manner.
I keep her under my arm as we walk into the house, then to the kitchen, where Peony naturally gravitates. She doesn’t seem to mind the prolonged contact—she even leans into me, rubbing my hand in hers before she dances away to start cooking some shrimp scampi.
It’s a pleasure to watch her in the kitchen. She is a sorceress, whipping together lovely delights for us with lightning-fast movements. It’s clear that she spent time in a professional kitchen, not simply in cooking classes like me.
Kellen and I chat at the counter in a way that feels both painfully normal and painfully strange. I don’t interact muchwith others, and after most of a day with Giancarlo, I am nearly spent.
But it’s worth it to give what little I have left to Peony.
After dinner, I want an excuse to spend more time with her without Kellen around. I want to know if what I’m feeling, if what I’m imagining between us, is real—and if it is, how I proceed. Does she find me attractive? Does she want to pursue more? Perhaps it’s blunt of me to ask, but I want to be certain of where we stand.
“Would you like to sit in the garden?” I finally ask Peony as we carry dishes to the sink. I gently push her out of the way, taking over the faucet.
She glares at me for interrupting. “Well, I suppose so, after you’re done manhandling me.”
