My feet started moving again when Adam looked up.
“Phil let me win at poker last night.”
“Good thing. Maureen believes men should bring gifts often.”
“Yeah, hello? Boss here. What do you remember about these?” She sounded affronted, but her twitching lips spoiled the effect. And as I neared, the blinding color of the dress got her attention. “Wow!” she exclaimed, “You look fantastic!”
I flushed from hairline to chest. More color.
“You do.” For some reason, Adam’s quiet agreement didn’t embarrass me, and his hundreds of little angels came into focus. They were still exuberant, swirling around him just as they’d been yesterday.
“Maureen gifted me. Wasn’t that sweet?”
Her delighted smile prompted one of my own. I needed to do some serious soul-searching on this whole interaction-with-people-thing.
“So, you were wondering about Sarah Jane’s work..?” I asked. “She uses reclaimed materials like plastic shopping bags and drink cans, and melts layers together to create this stained glass effect.” I reached in the case and pulled out a particularly unique pendant. “See how the white bags must have had red lettering? And here, you can still see the gold and blue of a Pab can in the hammered metal.”
Adam studied the pendant. “So . . . trash is beautiful. Now I know.” His little-boy grin made me laugh, and I laid the piece back in the case.
“Fine then. What do you think she’d like?”
Maureen patted him on the arm and moved off to refold some t-shirts while I waited. He scanned all the jewelry twice before finally shaking his head.
“I really don’t know.” A dark rose tint washed under his tan, and even the tips of his ears turned red against his silver-salted black hair.
“Hey, no worries. Men aren’t supposed to know what a woman likes. It’s in our handbook. Big secret. Very hush-hush.” Poor guy. Newlywed and a kid on the way . . . probably worried about making a bad choice and hurting her feelings. God knows how hormonal I’d been when I was expecting Eileen. Her father hadn’t had a chance—assuming he’d even wanted one. “Just answer the questions, sir, and you’ll have the perfect gift in no time.”
Seven questions later, Adam had confidently selected the perfect pair of earrings; and, I suspected, was comforted by realizing he knew more about his wife’s tastes than he’d thought. All he’d had to do was consider the way she showed him her preferences every day. Did she like to dress up or was she a jeans-and-t-shirt kind of girl? Did she decorate the house in antiques? Collect shells at the beach? Things like that. The dainty, frosted sea glass dangles looked so tiny in his hand. I wondered if Cara was the girlish brunette I’d pictured.
Maureen approved his choice. “Those will look so pretty with the way her hair frames her face! Give them to me. I’m sure you’d rather me wrap them, right?” Scooping them from his hand, she disappeared behind the curtains. “Give him our discount!” she called.
“That’s your cue.” I steered him to the counter. “Time to pay up.”
“Gladly! You seem to have a knack for . . . ” he frowned as he pulled out his wallet, “ . . . reading into things?”
I turned to gather tissue paper and a shopping bag.
“I’ve said it wrong. I meant it as a compliment.”
I shrugged as I tucked two creamy sheets in a bag. “Comes in handy if someone needs help picking a gift.” After fluffing the tissue, I wrote out his receipt and jabbed the pegs on the antique cash register without meeting his eyes again. It was this dress. It made me vulnerable. Exposed. I tried to concentrate on the bills I was counting, but couldn’t wait to put on my clothes again.
“Are you wearing that on Friday?”
Shocked at his timing as much as at his words, I looked up to find him waiting for my response. “Too fancy!” I was relieved that my voice sounded appropriately off-handed, but why did he care?
“I figured . . . since Maureen is determined to set you up . . . ” He was clearly regretting having said anything, and I was sure my expression wasn’t making him feel any better about it.
“You know him?”
“No. I’ve met him, but I don’t know him.” He was suddenly busy with putting his change back in his wallet, and I shifted my gaze to focus on the empty space around him. As expected, the vivacious swirl still encircled him, but I was surprised to see that there were more angels now, spilling across the counter between us, connecting us like two giant planets in a miniature galaxy of stars. Their individual movements synchronized and became a slow tidal dance, pulling and pushing between us.
“What do you see?” By now he was looking at me, of course.
He knows, Lila.
And for the strangest second, I actually believed he did. But the second passed, as seconds tend to do. “Eyelash. Everything’s blurry.” I batted my lashes against a fingertip.
“All wrapped up!” Maureen reappeared with her palm extended like a serving platter. The little box was perfection in white tulle and a raffia bow, and I plucked it from her hand and nestled it in the shopping bag as quickly as I could.
“Here you go! Hope she loves them! Be right back, Maureen.” Too abrupt, I knew, but I swooshed through the curtains without waiting for Adam to leave. Once again, the angels followed me, and I struggled to ignore them as the blue silk rustled to the floor.
✽✽✽
His frustration increased every time he witnessed her studying nothing. Something in the space between her and the male was completely engrossing—so much so that even the other human had noticed—and yet his own superior vision was unable to detect anything noteworthy.
Admittedly, from this position it was a challenge even for his eyes. But when she had been in close proximity yesterday morning, he had also witnessed nothing. Today, he watched from a window seat in the cafe across the street. With sunlight refracting in the imperfections
