Second Chances (14 page)

“Are you coming?”

“Yeah, yeah sure. It’s late anyway, you’re probably tired. I’ll go.”

Maya glanced at the clock then back at him. It was barely ten-thirty. She switched off the lights in the kitchen and Arthur had no choice but to follow. She nestled on the couch comfortably, her legs under her.

The soft glow of the lamps on her cheek was distracting.

“What did you and Tristan talk about earlier?”

The chair facing her seemed safer. Arthur sat on its arm, ready to flee at the first sign of too much contentment.

“I told you; just cousin to boyfriend’s warning.”

“Arthur, Tristan knows this is just a set-up. You’re not my boyfriend.”

“How come you don’t have one?”

He hadn’t intended to ask that. He just wanted to divert the conversation. She was refusing his explanation of Tristan’s admonishing him to keep his hands off her. He wanted to know. Why was she single? Maya was beautiful, brilliant, caring…What sort of idiots did she date who let her escape?

He hated himself for asking when sadness surfaced in her voice.

“Men are not interested in me.”

“Ridiculous.”

She lifted curious eyes (too clear, too bright) to him and Arthur shifted on his seat uncomfortably. Maya focused on her remote control again.

“Will you stay for a movie?”

It was easy to picture himself settled on the couch with her watching some grade-Z motion picture. Somewhere in the middle of the flick, she would snuggle against him and fall asleep. He would carry her to bed and she would not let go of him so he would lie down with her. And maybe in the morning, she would decide she wanted more than chaste kisses and false caresses. Arthur pushed onto his feet.

“Maybe some other time, Edana. Sweet dreams.”

He kissed her forehead and took his leave.

Maya grabbed a cushion and curled up on the couch, going through the programs on TV, uninterested. She couldn’t force him to stay if he didn’t want to. The apartment seemed empty without him. She would have liked it if he had stayed and watched TV with her; she would probably have leaned on him at some point, and fallen asleep surrounded by his warmth. And maybe he would have stayed the night and she would have woken up with him in the morning…

All the movies were Christmas soapy romances she knew by heart. Maya switched off the TV.

Chapter 21

Going shopping on a Sunday afternoon two days before Christmas was the craziest idea she had ever had, Maya decided.

The bus was crowded; the sidewalks were slippery with slush; and customers had apparently left their “goodwill” spirit at home. A bony woman with an acid-green hat hit her in the chest with an umbrella, and when Maya squealed in pain, the woman only glared and haughtily proceeded to the door.

The young woman had had enough. She paid for the cookery book she intended to give Colin and Gavin and exited the store. Reaching the central coffee shop, she ordered some hot chocolate and reviewed her list. She had Tristan’s music papers and some earrings for Isobel. She had bought Moira’s and Cedric’s presents at the Market the previous week.

The only ones left were Matthew’s and Arthur’s…Both were a problem, thought a different one. She had tons of ideas for Matthew’s present: pyjamas, books, collector cards, toys, and could not settle on only one thing. As for Arthur…

The truth was for Arthur she had no clue. Nothing. Zilch. Zero. Nada.

Her beverage arrived and she turned to check the store map in case an idea struck. She categorically refused a gift-card; it was too impersonal. A tie was also out of the question…even if she could just see his face if she presented him with the one with little Snoopy which she had spotted earlier. Priceless.

He didn’t read or favor one particular kind of music, so books and CDs were not an option. The chocolate was deliciously creamy. Maya sampled more and continued with the list of stores: no DVDs (did he even own one?), no jewelry, no gadget for sushi making; he apparently liked sushi, but she was allergic to seafood so it was not an option either. Though her allergies had nothing to do with it, of course; she simply didn’t feel he would like home devices. Aftershave was interesting but so easy…And she liked his. Thus to change it was absurd.

Maya was nearly at the end of the list, and still completely uninspired. One store specialized in sweaters for men. She could buy him a pullover. She knew he favored blue and basic colors, and she had a pretty good idea of his size…Go for a sweater.

She wrapped her fingers around the cup. A pullover was completely boring. A piece of clothing could be interpreted as intimate and territorial. She could not buy him that.

Maya sighed. Matthew was easier; she was going for Matthew’s present first and prayed a merciful muse would attack her in the meantime.

The toy store was so full Maya nearly gave up and turned tail without even entering. Only the anticipation of the child’s pleasure when opening his present pushed her forward.

Thankfully, only the cashiers were overloaded (which promised hours of waiting for later) and the aisles were (relatively) accessible. Inside, the clerks were disguised as elves and answered parents while the children ran all around the place. The kids had so many stars in their eyes her spirit lifted instantly. She had the impression of having entered Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, just waiting for a cube to fly by her.

Maya reached the aisle she was looking for and began inspecting the stuffed animal-shaped slippers on display. The horses looked a bit like cows, and she frowned, unconvinced.

“Can I help you? How old is your little one?”

“Eight years old. But he is not…”

“I suggest you get a nine-year-old size. They grow up quick at this age.”

The elf pressed a pair in her hands with an encouraging smile. A little girl behind Maya started crying, to the despair of an already stressed mom. The clerk excused herself and went to offer help with the capricious girl. Maya looked down at the horse-cow-like pair of slippers in her hand, and at the teary girl and her heart shrunk.

Matthew was eight years old and she had no idea if he’d ever be nine. He was a loving kid, without a mother to sing a lullaby to him or make him cookies for school. He didn’t have a father to play with or read him a story. Suddenly, the pouting of the girl seemed unbearable. The heaviness in her chest was so painful…

A ring stopped the upcoming tears, but her voice choked a bit when she answered her cell phone.

“Hi. Are you at the hospital? I hear crying.”

“No, I’m shopping for Christmas presents.”

“You don’t sound like your usual self. Are you alright?”

The question surprised her a little. Then she remembered that behind the cold mask, Arthur had a heart, a golden heart if one could come by it. The tightness in her throat eased a little.

“And how do I usually sound?”

“With me? Annoyed and bossy. Will you buy me a present?”

Maya nearly laughed. She could picture him behind his desk, with that cocky grin he favored when he teased her and his eyes a soft blue.

“Do you deserve one?”

“Probably not.”

The banter disintegrated the earlier spleen completely and she grinned frankly.

“I’ll see what I can do then. Did you have a reason for calling?”

“Yes. I was wondering…”

The hesitation sobered her instantly; she felt uneasy when her heart fluttered. Arthur was nothing more than her fake boyfriend. He…No. She didn’t want anything else…

“What are we going to do for Christmas Eve? I am to have dinner with my father, and you with your family…We can hardly put my father and Moira in the same room…”

“Unless you’re up for remodelling afterward. Not to mention the thermo-nuclear overcooking for the turkey, of course…”

Arthur laughed out loud and the sound jingled joyfully in her ear. Then he became serious again. She cupped the phone, as if it could bring him closer.

He cleared his throat. It was strange to refer to them as a “we”; they were talking about keeping up the pretence, only making sure their arrangement stayed a secret; yet the pronoun came up naturally. The images crossing his mind were absurd, the two of them at her place or his, sharing dinner and enjoying each other’s…company. Enjoying each other’s company. He pushed the ludicrous fantasies away and sealed his fate.

“I will call you during the evening, so it’ll look like I miss you, and we’ll see each other at the Christmas Tree event.”

She kept silent on the other side of the line; Arthur realized how hard and cold the statement was. The idea her eyes were flooding with tears was unbearable. His grasp on the phone tightened.

“Maya?”

“Yes, yes that’s fine. I think I will buy Matthew horse-shaped slippers.”

Her voice almost sounded normal. He had hurt her. His conversation with Tristan the previous evening rushed back to his mind. He could only hurt her. Arthur accepted the change of subject, downcast.

“I bought him a hard-hat for his riding lessons.”

“You did?”

The genuine pleasure in her question wiped out whatever was weighing on his stomach. Arthur beamed and found he was unable to erase the smile from his face. He had to stop that now.

“He’ll need it. I’ll call you on Tuesday evening.”

“Okay. Would you…”

He didn’t wait for the rest of her question and hung up. Emotions were surfacing too easily: feelings he was not supposed to have and should not harbour.

Maya looked at her phone, her eyes narrowing in surprise, and hurt giving way to annoyance. Arthur could really act like a jerk. This side of him she was definitely not attracted to.

Chapter 22

The waiter walked away with their empty plates and Arthur looked around. As usual, Robert had chosen to have their Christmas Eve dinner in one of the fanciest restaurants in town. The atmosphere was quiet and the food, of course, delicious. However, it was the last way Arthur would have chosen to celebrate if he had had a choice. Flashes of messy tables and his mother’s patient demeanor with his childhood exuberance haunted him briefly.

The memories were bittersweet and scattered, so Arthur dismissed them shifting in his chair to settle more comfortably, while his father went on about his current obsession, the Mercia negotiations.

The phone carefully stored in his jacket bumped against his side when he moved. Arthur slipped his hand into his pocket to touch it and his father’s voice faded once more. The contact awoke anticipation, tainted with guilt. He ended his conversation with Maya without a goodbye and didn’t call back. She was probably going to lash him when he interrupted her own party. Maybe she would not even answer the call, making him sweat for his bad behavior.

Or maybe she would simply throw a dagger or two so he felt bad, before stating he was lucky it was Christmas. And the truth would be she already knew he hated himself and her generous heart had already forgiven him. His thumb played along the plastic case, caressing the screen slowly.

She was probably laughing, her vivid eyes sparkling with pleasure as she played house and helped everybody with food or drinks, just as she had the previous Saturday. He should have called earlier. On Sunday, when he wanted to apologize; on Monday when he was already dying to do so. Earlier today, when he wanted to tell her…to offer wishes for the coming celebration. If he called now, he would disturb her and by the time he went home, it would be too late…

“…I’m flying to Mercia on Thursday morning, so I need you to revise the contract tom…”

“I’m sorry father, I’m busy tomorrow.”

Robert narrowed glacial grey eyes on his son and they entered another glare contest. Those were becoming more and more frequent, Arthur realized, but his “seeing” Maya had only enhanced the process. It’d been a while since he refused to blindly obey his father’s orders; until Maya, the resistance had been more passive. Like keeping his mother’s coat of arms on his official communication, or doing things his own way despite Robert’s instructions.

“Are you jeopardizing our work for a woman, Arthur? I do hope you have more sense than that.”

“I am not risking anything, father. Your experience will more than compensate for the revision, and given that our client is as crafty as you are, I don’t doubt I’ll have some more to do anyway. What’s the point in doing things twice? You taught me better than wasting time and effort for nothing.”

The sharp intake of air from his father told Arthur he had hit a nerve. Robert could not retort without going against his own lectures. However, hoping the hard man would settle at that was wishful thinking.

“So I thought. But given you’re still pursuing some idle girl, I’m not so sure you have learned that lesson.”

The insult sank in and his hand fisted around the phone. Somehow, Arthur managed to keep his voice low, and relatively calm.

“I would greatly appreciate it if you’d stop disregarding Maya. She makes me happier than I’ve been in years; if that in itself is not enough; do remember she is your ward and that you once considered her as a daughter. Please excuse me.”

He felt so angry his legs wobbled when he pushed up on his feet; Arthur straightened up proudly, unwilling to show how much the argument weakened him and he walked to the lodge.

The young man gestured to the barman for a double bourbon. When he forgot for a moment he couldn’t have her and let her aura surround him, Maya did make him happy; peaceful. Maybe when this whole affair ended, if she didn’t hate him, they would find their way into some neutral territory and try to understand each other.

Arthur took the phone out of his pocket to put it near the glass in front of him. The alcohol warmed his stomach, helping him to regain some of his composure. He had no desire to worry her, as she surely would if he didn’t wait a little to call. Whatever happened in the future, he would not tolerate his father hurting her further. It hurt him as well.

***

The ring made Maya jump. Tristan got up with an apologetic smile, quickly erased by a brilliant beam when he read the name on the screen. The young man greeted Isobel and moved away for some privacy.