AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You thought I left you? On opening night?” He looks hurt.
“Jane said—”
“Is she always this high strung? I took a quick trip back to my place to take a shower. And, since we’re exchanging opening night gifts, to get this.” He hands me the egg.
“It’s beautiful.”
“One of a kind, like you.”
My heart melts.
9
ERIC
I can’t believeshe thought I’d bail on her. Maybe I laid on the pity party a bit too thick. I realized while I was showering—and thinking about her—that I’m angrier with myself than I am with Catherine. It’s not even about losing the bet or the forty-three days I’ll be spending in that fishbowl of a nest, it’s that I thought that by agreeing to do this, she’d change her mind about going out with me. But she held true to her position of not getting involved, not even for one night to let off some steam.
That’s what really pisses me off—that for the first time I can remember, I haven’t been able to negotiate exactly what I want. I didn’t like losing the bet, but I hated losing the post-bet negotiation even more. I respect that Catherine isn’t interested in a relationship. But why turn down friends with benefits when there’s clearly chemistry between us?
I don’t understand it.
I don’t like it.
I got mad. But I’m over it.
Catherine is turning the egg, round and round in her hands,oohingandaahing, sighing and repeating, “beautiful.”
She hasn’t opened it yet but once she does she’ll realize that I had it custom-made for her and for this installation.
“This is too much, Eric.”
“Not at all. Do you know the artist?”
She finds the maker mark and shakes her head then looks to me and smiles.
“She’s Ukrainian. Arrived in Canada with her two children and mother this past year. She’s well-known in Eastern Europe. Trying to establish herself here. Well, trying to survive, really. Thought you’d appreciate the double meaning.”
Catherine’s expression changes from awestruck to heartsick.
“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.”
“I yam, what I yam,” I say, doing my best Popeye impression.
“Way to ruin a moment.” She chuckles and turns her attention back to the egg.
“I wasn’t going to give it to you until after the opening, but I’ve never done one of these before so didn’t realize the gifts of gratitude are done before you break a leg.”
She puts the egg down and drops into one of two wingback chairs. I sit in the other. Neither of us speak. It’s not uncomfortable, but it doesn’t feel like a natural pause in conversation. It feels more like a “What the hell do I say now?” kind of quiet.
“So, the thing is—”
“I was thinking that—”
We speak at the same time. Stop at the same time. Motion for the other to continue.
“The thing is,” Catherine says, “I didn’t buy you an opening night gift, Eric. It’s not something I’ve ever done.”
“All the better. Something made by your hand,” I say, tone light, but I have to admit—I’m disappointed. I’d looked forward to what her idea of a good gift for me might be. Not that I’d expected anything until an hour ago. But in this last hour, I’d created a picture of possibility based on whatever she had to give me right now.
