Meet Me at Taylor Park (2 page)

Steven still had his head buried in the magazine.

“Steven?” Katie said.

He looked up. “Hhhmmmm?”

She let out a breath. “Never mind.”

He returned to his reading.

After a while, he looked up again. Katie looked at him with anticipation. He pointed to her TV dinner. “Are you going to eat that apple cobbler?”

Katie’s face returned to blank. “No, go ahead. I’ve lost my appetite.” She got up and left the table. She turned back once, and saw Steven help himself to her dessert.

*

Later that night, Katie was lying in bed with her new fiancé. She stared at the ceiling, and then tossed and turned.

She turned around and looked at her future husband’s back. She put a hand to his back, and he shifted away from her.

She put a hand to his back again. “Sweetie, I want to be close.”

“Sorry, I need to sleep. I got work tomorrow,” he said in a muffled voice.

“But it’s our engagement night.”

“I need to work to provide for us. When we’re married, I want us to live more comfortably than this, and be in a financial situation to have kids.”

“I’m just asking for a little hug,” she protested.

He rolled over and she could see his gentle face in the moonlight. He reached over and stroked her cheek.

“You look so beautiful in moonlight,” he said. He hugged her quickly, but she felt no warmth.

After a while, he rolled back over.

She tried to spoon him by latching onto the curve of his back, but it was very awkward, as though she were forcing a piece of jigsaw puzzle onto the wrong piece.

Before long, she could hear snoring on his side. Giving up, she rolled over and stretched out on her side of the bed.

Katie tried to imagine sleeping like this every night, but was unable to.

“Brandon would have given me a better hug,” she mumbled.

She expected her fiancé to say something, but he simply muttered sleepily, and then shifted in his position.

A cold draft drifted in from the open window. She wrapped her own arms around herself. Then she shivered.

*

Chapter 2

Earlier that evening, Brandon Morrissey was at the florist in Toronto in preparation for his blind date.

“Give me three red roses, please,” he said to the florist, pointing to the roses behind the counter.

The florist, a tiny old Asian lady, smiled, and turned around, her back to him. “Three? You got hot date tonight?”

Brandon smiled. “Yeah, my friend set me up.”

“Roses, huh?” she asked, turning around and wrapping them in fancy paper. “She must be really special.”

“Oh yeah. A girl this fine I have to romance. You know, she’s a pediatric nurse.”

“A nurse, huh? Then you know she’s the caring type. Maybe even the marriage type.” Brandon leaned in a little closer. “Well, I don’t want to jinx it, but just between you and me, I’m 24. I’m ready to get married soon.”

The Asian lady’s smile broadened, revealing barely any teeth. “You a family man! That’s so nice to hear. Not a lot of young men these days are family men. $7.99, please.” The old lady handed the flowers to Brandon in exchange for a ten-dollar bill.

Brandon took the flowers and inhaled their scent. The pleasant fragrance made him relaxed. “These smell so good.”

“Your lady friend will love them. All girls like flowers.” The lady grinned, and handed him his change.

“I hope so. I haven’t had much luck with the ladies lately,” he admitted.

The grin disappeared from the shop owner’s face. “No luck? But you so tall, dark and handsome. How tall are you?”

“No luck,” Brandon replied, his face reddening. He hated compliments like this. “I’m 6’1.”

“Wow, the world has changed,” said the old lady, her eyes and mouth opened wide.

“Good luck on your date,” she said, waving her bony arms.

“Thanks,” he said, turning around. Then, under his breath, “Luck will help a lot.”

*

At 6:45 that evening, Brandon sat in the dark restaurant in his Levi jeans and an ironed dress shirt. He put the bouquet of roses on the table, next to the candle. He had chosen to meet at Maxi’s, a trendy restaurant that specialized in east coast dining. With the candlelight and live music, it was also the most romantic restaurant that Patrick, a Torontonian and the friend who had set him up, could find.

Brandon looked into the mirror next to him, making sure he was presentable. His short brown hair was worn in a casual-style, a faux hawk that could never quite be tamed. His deep Irish green eyes were relaxed, but he hoped that they also conveyed interest. He didn’t want his date to think he was boring.

Then, he sniffed his shirt.

I smell fine, he noted with relief. Thank God for Calvin Klein cologne.

He looked around the dim restaurant. The other guests, families, elderly couples, and twenty-something couples, were all chatting. He snuck a look at the couple at the next table.

They were twenty-somethings, and were looking deeply into each other’s eyes. He saw the girl rubbing the guy’s knees under the table.

Brandon looked away and glanced at his watch. Anita was supposed to meet him at 7pm. It was now 7:15pm.

She’s just a little late, he told himself.

But when 7:15pm dragged into 7:30pm, she became a lot late.

Maybe she can’t find the restaurant, he thought. He went outside and stood under Maxi’s neon sign. He looked in both directions of the sidewalk, but there was no beautifully dressed girl in sight. All he saw was the wind battering the leaves of the trees, making them all flutter down in an array of green, red and orange.

He went back inside, and decided to leave.

The waitress came over to his table. “Will the rest of your party be joining you soon?”
 

He shook his head, hoping she couldn’t see his red cheeks in the semidarkness. “I don’t think so….”

“Would you like to order anything?” She offered a menu, but he didn’t take it.

He looked at the empty plate across from him. “No, I’m gonna go.”

The waitress came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

He tried to shake her hand off, but it was glued to his shoulder. “That’s OK,” he murmured. “It’s OK.”

The waitress finally went away, and Brandon got up. He looked at the bouquet of red roses on his table, picked it up, and chucked it in the trash.

Then, he looked at the bouquet. He was sad to see a fresh, gorgeous bouquet just sitting there in the trash. He retrieved it, and looked around. He noticed that the twenty-something couple had no flowers.

Brandon approached them and put the bouquet on their table.

“Here,” he said to them. “I won’t need these anyway.”

The girl looked at him. “I’m sorry you were stood up.”

He said nothing, and turned around.

He was about to leave the restaurant when he realized that he had left his wallet on the table.

Brandon returned to the table, and picked up his wallet.

He paused when he saw the candle on his table. The flame had eaten the wick and melted the wax. It was now a very ugly piece of art work.

*

He returned to the Tipton Hotel in downtown Toronto. His friend Patrick was waiting for him in the lounge on ground level. Patrick, a guy with wavy blond hair, waved.

Brandon headed toward him and noticed that he was not alone. On both sides were two girls, a thin Asian girl and an even thinner brunette girl.

Patrick stood up from the bar stool, glancing at his watch. “Uh oh. It’s only 9 o’clock. Did your date suck?”

Brandon crossed his arms. “In order for me to rate it, she has to show up.”

Patrick tugged at the collar of his casual lounge shirt. “Yikes, I’m so sorry, man. I don’t know what happened. She’s usually not flaky. Let me call her and see what’s up.” He took out his cell phone.

Brandon put up one hand. “No, don’t bother.” He sighed. “I don’t really care. I just want a good night’s sleep before I fly back to Vancouver tomorrow.”

The brunette girl, who had hair so dark it looked black, got up from her stool, and went over to Brandon. He saw that she reached up only to his chest. “You’re going to turn in so early? It’s only 9 o’clock. I was hoping we’d get to have some fun.” The girl moved in closer, and Brandon could catch a whiff of cherries.

She smells good, he thought.

Then he looked at Patrick, who was mouthing something to him. He pointed to the brunette and smiled.

Brandon thought he saw Patrick mouth
For you
, as he pointed to the brunette.

Brandon frowned and shook his head.

Then, he looked at the girl in front of him. Her long brown hair was shiny in the dim lights of the lounge. Her face and mouth were signaling liveliness.

She was wearing mascara and eyeliner. A little too much eyeliner, Brandon thought. He then noticed her long eyelashes. They looked glued on.

He paused, then finally said, “Nah, I’m gonna hit the hotel gym, then turn in. I got a fundraiser in the morning.”

He saw the girl’s eyes light up. “That’s no fun. I was hoping that we could get to know each other. I’m Maggie.” She twirled a strand of hair in one hair as though it were spaghetti.

Brandon was well acquainted with the classic signs of flirting. “I’m Brandon, but I’m really tired. Maybe another time.”

Patrick looked sympathetically at his friend. “Look, you were stood up. I’m sorry. Anita normally doesn’t do that unless there’s a very good reason. But there’s no reason you can’t enjoy some time with Maggie here. She’s a friend of mine who really wanted to meet you after I told her about you.”

Maggie looked at Brandon with big dark brown eyes. “Too bad you were stood up.That sucks.”

Brandon was about to turn around when Maggie grabbed his shoulders. A rhythmic beat came on.

“Oh, I love this song,” Maggie squealed. She ran her hand down his arm until it rested on his bare forearm. She gave it a little graze with a finger.

Brandon almost shivered.

Maggie smiled a cute little smile. “Let’s dance. I’ll make you forget all about Anita.”

Brandon looked at Patrick, who only shrugged, then turned his attention to the brunette next to him.

Brandon looked at Maggie and nodded. “Sure, why not?”

He held the girl’s hand and led her out onto the dance floor. They danced for a while, and at one point, Brandon felt Maggie’s hands on his ass. In response, he put his arms tighter around her waist, and pulled her in. He tried to remember the last time he had a beautiful girl in his arms, but could not recall when.

She leaned into him, and the pleasant cherry smell filled his nostrils.

“Having fun?” she asked.

Brandon was about to answer when he noticed something on her breath. Alcohol.

“Yeah. How much have you had to drink?”

“Not a lot. Couple tequila shots.”

They continued to dance for the next little while, but then, Maggie began to slow down.

Brandon looked down and noticed that she was starting to get sluggish. “Are you OK?” he asked.

When she did not reply, he held her at arm’s length. Her eyes were half closed, her cheeks were a deep scarlet, and she had a goofy smile on her face. A drunk smile.

With the music still blaring, Brandon led the girl off the dance floor and back to Patrick and the Asian girl.

“Patrick,” he began, then stopped he saw that his friend was making out heavily with the Asian girl.

“Patrick,” he said again, louder this time. “I think Maggie is a little tipsy.”

Patrick pried his face away from the brunette’s long enough to say, “Then take her back to her room.” He then smiled, and pointed to the Asian girl. “This is why I work in fashion.”

Brandon started to protest, but it was too late. Patrick had already returned to his make-out session.

Brandon turned to Maggie, and saw her with her eyes closed. “I’m so sleepy,” she moaned.

He held her in his arms. “You OK?” The smell of alcohol on her was stronger now.

Maybe she had on a lot of perfume to cover it up, he thought.

When she did not answer, he said, “I’m going to take you back to your room.”

He thought he saw her nod, but he was not sure. “Where are your keys?”

“Pocket,” she mumbled.

He rummaged around in her pocket and touched plastic. He held the object up to the flashing lights. Room 1132.

Brandon steadied the girl, and led her to the elevator. They got inside, and Brandon pressed the button for the 11th floor.

The doors closed, and there they were, all alone. She buried herself into his body, and Brandon shifted uncomfortably. He would have separated himself from her if she hadn’t needed him to steady herself.

“I think you’re ssssssoooooo shot,” she slurred.