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Chapter seven

Silas

Not the time, Mom!

It’s been exactly fifty-seven minutes since I dropped off the baked goods at Cecilia’s door, and I know for a fact she retrieved it five minutes later. Yes, I had Stanley notify me the minute she walked through the door.

Which means she’s had the package in hand for fifty-two minutes, and yet she still hasn’t reached out. Doubt has slowly started creeping through my veins.

What if she doesn’t like it? What if I misread our encounter? What if she hasn’t thought about me like I’ve thought about her every minute of the day? What if she doesn’t feel the same way I do?

I’m currently perched up at the kitchen island in Clay and Morgan’s home, waiting for dinner while they bicker on about how the chicken Alfredo should be cooked.

I tap my phone, waking the screen every thirty seconds, hoping a new notification came in that I may have missed.

But no, the screen stares blankly back at me.

“She’s going to call, I promise.” Morgan comes to my side and places her hand on my biceps, peering down at my phone as I light it up once more.

“How can you be so sure? What if the gift was too much and I messed this whole thing up?” I ask her dispiritedly.

She grabs me by the chin, pulling my gaze from the screen to her. “Are you kidding me? If a man sent me a gift with so much significance, trust me when I say I’d be leaping into his arms and riding off into the sunset with him,” she says dreamily.

“Um, hello?” Clay waves a hand from the oven in Morgan’s direction. “I’m right here, you know.”

“Yes, yes, baby. I know. We’re talking metaphorically. Don’t worry, you know I love you,” she says, waving a hand dismissively as she rolls her eyes. “Always needing attention, this one. What I’m saying is, she’d be a fool not to call.”

Just as I’m about to answer, my phone comes to life with a call from an UNKNOWN number. Sixty-three minutes. I stare down at the phone, my nerves skyrocketing through the roof, body paralyzed with anxiety.

“Oh God, it’s her! Hurry, answer it!” Morgan shakes me lightly to get me moving.

I wipe my suddenly clammy hands down the front of my jeans before reaching up and taking ahold of my phone. Morgan locks her arm around mine, holding on for dear life and getting as close as possible to me, probably hoping to hear the conversation.

I swipe the green button and clear my throat before speaking. “Cecilia?”

“Cecilia? Who’s Cecilia?”

I internally groan at the sound of my mother’s voice. I love my mom, but this is not the time. “Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t ignore my question, young man. Who’s this so-called Cecilia?” she says with anger and disappointment in her voice, yet there’s also a hint of excitement.

It’s not that I don’t want to tell my mother about the woman of my dreams. It’s just that I know my mom, and she’s like a bloodhound on a quest, hunting for her next bit of information.

She’s relentless. I was hoping to keep her in the dark for a little while longer regarding my love life, but apparently that won’t be happening.

Morgan lets go of my arm and wanders over to Clay, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek, then goes on to plating our meal. I focus my attention back on my mother, who is going on and on with her demands, question after question.

“Mom, why are you calling me from an unknown number?” I ask when the realization hits me.

“Oh, your brother showed me how to block my number so that I could call Suzie Thompson and hang up if her mother picked up the phone instead. Like she wouldn’t know it was me. You know how I feel about that woman. That miserable old lady doesn’t know how to shut up,” she tells me, clearly annoyed.

I don’t blame her. I’ve met that woman twice, and I won’t make the same mistake a third time. Once she has you in her claws, it’s impossible to get out.

“Jesus, Mom. Don’t need to be so rude.”

“Oh shush, you know I’m right. Now stop changing the topic! Answer me,” she demands with force.

My phone beeps in my ear, indicating another call is coming in. “Mom, I gotta go. There’s someone on the other line.”

“NO! No, wait, Silas, don’t you dare hang up on me! Tell me who she is!” She rushes out the words as I end her call and accept the new one, this time with more precautions.

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence before her sultry voice filters through the speaker. “ Hi.”

That’s all it takes, a simple ‘hi’, and I’m done for. My heart hammers violently against my rib cage. The married couple looks my way, Clay inclining his chin in my direction and mouthing, “Is it her?”

I nod my head in response and swallow. Morgan leans back against the kitchen counter with both hands held over her heart, gazing at me like a mother watching her child achieve greatness.

Wanting some privacy, I stand from the stool and head for the patio door and step outside, shutting it behind me.

“Hey,” I say again like I’m incompetent. Damn, does she make me nervous.

Her giggle resonates through the phone, making a smile spread along my face. She then proceeds to repeat herself as well. “Hi.”

“How are you? Did you get my gift?” I ask, clearing my throat beforehand.

“Well, yes. Or else I wouldn’t be calling you.” There goes that seductive laugh again.

“Right, sorry.” I chuckle nervously while shaking my head at myself. Freaking idiot.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry for taking so long to call, I just...” Her voice breaks off at the end, holding back from what she wants to say. But the thing is, everything she has to say, I want to hear.

“You just what?” I ask, hoping it will entice her to go on.

“I just needed a moment to collect myself. The gift, it was very thoughtful. You have no idea how much I needed that, thank you,” she says with a soft voice, a bit of hesitation in her words.

A sigh filled with relief exits my lungs, and my body relaxes.

I hadn’t realized how tense I was. The sun is just setting, giving off splashes of pink and orange throughout the sky.

It’s a bit chilly this late into the evening, but my long sleeve is doing the job just fine.

Besides, I’m used to the cold thanks to all our time on the ice.

I walk over to one of the many lounge chairs by the covered inground pool and settle in. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m curious though, how did you know when I’d be home? They were still warm when I found them.”

I can’t help but laugh at her question. I push the lounge chair into a resting position, going from seated to lying down, and place my free hand behind my head, smiling up at the sky as I decide to go with the truth.

“I may have called your work and asked the lovely receptionist what time you usually finish. Then I found out from Stanley that you usually walk home in the evenings, so I made sure to have them ready and dropped off five minutes before you arrived.”

Once the words leave my mouth, I realize how intense that might seem for someone you just met. But hey, I warned her when I said I always get what I want.

She’s silent for a while, and I fear I may have overstepped, but then she eases my worries with a heartfelt laugh. “Well, if that isn’t dedication right there.”

“Anything for you, Minnie.”

My jaw is sore from how wide my grin has been since I heard her voice through the phone. She affects me in a way no one ever has before, where my stomach is constantly in knots and my chest feels tight with the simple sound of her voice.

“Still rolling with the short jokes, are we, Big Guy?” she says, tittering. I can picture her with a fist against her hip, one eyebrow raised, exasperation written all over her soft feminine features.

“Nah, I just think it suits you.”

“And how is that?” she asks suspiciously.

I remove my hand from behind my head and scratch at my temple, wondering how she’ll truly feel about the reason behind the nickname I’ve given her. Only one way to find out.

“Well, you kind of remind me of Minnie Mouse , short and cute and feminine. Dark hair with pale skin. And the way you scrunch up your nose and wiggle it when something bothers you makes me think of a mouse twitching its nose. It’s adorable.”

A quiet oh travels through the phone. I can practically hear her mind working as she analyzes my words.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it, you’ll get used to it.”

She explodes into a fit of laughter, the sound pure harmony to my ears. I wish I could watch her laugh; see the way her face lights up with joy. I should have taken her picture yesterday. It would have given me something beautiful to look at all night long.

The door to the patio slides open moments before I hear the faint slapping of feet on the pavement. I sit up to look at who has joined me when Morgan stops at my side. She sets a plate down, accompanied by a beer bottle on the small circular table to my left.

“Here, before it gets cold,” she tells me tenderly in a quiet voice.

She bends slightly and presses a light kiss to the top of my head as I thank her, “Thanks, Morg.”

“No problem,” she says while giving my shoulder a little squeeze with her hand before turning back and heading inside, sliding the door shut .

“Am I bothering you?” Cecilia asks in a timid voice.

“What? No, not at all. Sorry about that, my friend’s wife was just bringing me food since I came over to their place for dinner. Although I’m probably not being the greatest guest since I’m sitting outside in their backyard on the phone, alone.”

“Oh! Well then, I should let you go enjoy your time with your fri—"

“No! It’s fine, really. They were happy you called. Morgan, my friend Clay’s wife, was probably as anxious as I was waiting for my phone to ring,” I say with a chuckle before I realize the slip-up I made. Shit! Now Cecilia knows I was stressing about her call.

“She sounds sweet,” she says with genuine kindness seeping through her voice.