17
Nathaniel
The longer I stand here, the more I realize this was a stupid idea. I especially start to worry about the peace offering in my hands. I had intended it as a sweet gesture, an apology. Now it feels more like an insult and me showing up here feels sort of creepy. I spent most of the night worrying about how I handled the week at work and more specifically, how I handled myself with Julia in the testing area. I got too excited about the potential and forgot about the person. I keep waffling between guilt and regret. After she was dressed down in the meeting by Ken and we had to run to the lab, I never had a chance to talk to her, not really.
So that’s why I’m here. Standing on her doorstep. Secretly hoping she doesn’t answer so I can drop this and run. I’m just about to set down my gift when the door opens.
She’s scans me, her eyes starting at my feet and moving up. They widen.
“Oh. Hi,” she says. She tugs the tie of her robe tight but not before I glimpse her muscular legs under tight cotton shorts. “I thought you were a package.” She rubs her eyes. “Had a package. Wait, what? Sorry, I just woke up.”
She is lovely with sleep, slightly disheveled and off-guard. Her hair is down and the curls are wild all around her except for a small area near her face where they’ve gone sort of flat. She has a pillow line on her cheek and I long to reach out my finger and trace down it.
The cool morning air causes her to shiver. My gaze sweeps her body before I can tell it to stop and when I look back to her face she’s slightly flushed.
“Sorry,” I say and then quickly add, “for waking you. I didn’t even think … Did I wake you?” I wince.
“No. No, I was getting up,” she lies.
“I did bring a package of sorts.” I cringe internally because her saying the word package to me and me repeating it has laced the word with innuendo that I can’t shake from the perverted, teenage part of my brain that also just happens to notice her hard nipples. I take a breath and look around her tidy front yard. It’s xeriscaped with clay red rocks and steppingstones.
“Is that for me?” she asks.
“Yes. Here ya go.” I thrust it forward.
Her foot holds the door as she grabs the fertilizer and watering can.
She blinks down in confusion. This is a terrible idea. I should go. I’m just standing here like a doofus. Of course she already has gardening supplies. My attempt to apologize now feels like a cruel slap in the face.
“What is it?” The heavy bag starts to slip and she uses her hip to hoist it back up, causing the silk robe to fall open. The action also pushes her shirt up to reveal a tan stomach, firm with muscles. I blow out a breath and study the trim of her door. Her nose crinkles. “It sort of smells like a bag of sh—”
“It’s a fertilizer. Sort of. The team has been working on it. As a surprise. It’s only the first batch. I thought maybe for Ferngully,” I explain with the awkwardness of a tween asking a girl to an eighth-grade dance. “But now that—”
“The team?”
“We thought it might help your plant. We’re not chemists, but we figured we’d give it a shot.”
“When did you even have time?” She shakes her head. “I love it. Thank you.” She tenderly squeezes the bag almost like a hug with a sad look of awe. “Really. It’s the best gift.” She leans to set the heavy bag down inside the door and I jump to assist her.
My hand brushes hers and a little shock raises the hairs on my arms. I shudder at the unexpected heat. She pulls back so fast, the bag drops the rest of the way to the ground. She places the old-fashioned tin watering can next to the bag with a gentle reverence that makes me feel better.
When she stands up, she’s wearing a genuine smile. Her hair is so beautiful, lush and wild all around her. She always keeps herself looking professional at work. She looks so different now. I can’t stop staring at her round face haloed by curls.
We stand awkwardly in the doorway. Well, I’m awkward. She’s like freshly tumbled laundry, clean and a little disheveled and warm smelling. How can anyone be this beautiful upon waking? Also, when did my feelings become this all-consuming?
“Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to drop this off.” I start to walk backward, stumble over the small step and stop. Real smooth. “Oh, and to apologize for what happened at the meeting. Ken was being an ass and I should have said something.”
Her eyes widen. I guess I never really talk like that at work. I try to keep the morale up because once negativity starts it’s hard to stop it from spreading like a plague. I’ve seen projects destroyed by bad attitudes.
I add, “He shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry if it caused a … if it upset you.”
“I’ve handled worse. It wasn’t even that. It was how he talked about your design. It frustrated me.” Next door an older woman is working in her garden. Julia waves to her before turning to me and asking quietly, “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make some tea.”
When she makes her way inside, I quickly scrub my hands through my hair. “Sure. That would be good. Just for a minute. I won’t waste your day off.”
“Yeah, I was super busy making plans to sleep and wallow so we’ll have to keep it short…” She looks over her shoulder to grin at me.
Oh, weekend Julia has a little bite to her. I like it.
