"I know what the walk of shame is. And it's not anything like that."
Jill used her chopsticks to pick up the last remaining maki roll. "Maybe not specifically, but I'd be surprised if your emotions weren't seesawing from one extreme to the other, which is what most girls go through during the walk of shame. As in, 'Did that really happen? Was it as good as I remember? What did I do?' Falling in love is terrifying. That's why they say 'falling in love' and not something like 'floating toward love.' Falling is scary. Floating is kind of dreamy." She shook her head sorrowfully at Maria's plate. "I just ate all of our food and I'm going to blame you when I get on the scale."
"In other words, you think that what I'm going through is normal?"
"I'd be way more worried if you weren't questioning everything. Because then, it would mean you're crazy."
"Did this happen with Paul? When you first fell in love with him?"
"Of course. One day, he'd be all I could think about, and the next, I'd wonder whether I was making the biggest mistake of my life. And here's a little secret--sometimes it still happens. I know I love him, but I'm not sure I love him enough to date him forever. I want to get married and have children. Or at least one. And by the way? His parents don't like me that much, and I struggle with that, too."
"Why don't they like you?"
"They think I talk too much. And that I'm too opinionated."
"You're kidding."
"I know, right?"
Maria laughed before growing serious again. "I think it's hard because everything about Colin and me just seems so... foreign. With Luis, it all made sense. We were friends first, and even after we were dating, it must have been six months before I told him that I loved him. My parents liked him, and he came from a good family, and there was nothing about his past to even question."
"If memory serves, I believe you also told me that Serena didn't like Luis at all. And in the end, he turned out to be a selfish jerk."
Oh yeah. That. "But..."
"Luis was your first love. You can't compare what happened then with what's happening now."
"That's what I just said."
"You're missing my point. My point is that first loves always make sense because you don't know any better. Everything is a first and any warning bells are drowned out by the sheer novelty of it all. In the beginning, anyway. Now you're older and wiser, and you need someone in your life who's older and wiser, too. You want someone who doesn't play games, and with Colin, what you see is what you get. You trust him and you enjoy spending time with him. Or at least, that's what you've been telling me."
"And you don't think it's moving too fast?"
"Compared to what? It's your life. My advice is to go with the flow and take it one day at a time. And again, what you're feeling today is perfectly normal."
"I'd rather not feel this way at all."
"Who would? But I have a hunch that you'll feel better as soon as you talk to him again. That's the way it usually works."
Maria pushed her lonely piece of sushi around, finally beginning to feel the first pangs of hunger. "I hope you're right."
"Of course I'm right. Love makes everything complicated, and emotions always go wild in the beginning. But when it's real, you should hold on tight, because we're both old enough to know that true love doesn't come along all that often."
After lunch with Jill, Maria did feel better. Maybe not entirely normal, but at the very least somewhat centered again. The more she thought about it, the more she recognized that Jill had been right about pretty much everything. Falling in love was a little frightening and enough to make anyone a bit screwy in the beginning. It had been so long that she'd forgotten what it was supposed to feel like.
Jill had also been spot-on when she'd assured Maria that talking to Colin would help settle her doubts. He called a little after four while he was on his way to work. Although they didn't chat for long, simply hearing his voice seemed to diminish the tension in her neck and shoulders. And when he asked if she was free the following evening and whether they could spend time together, she realized how much she wanted exactly that.
The thought of spending time with Colin after work made the following day pass more quickly than usual. Even Barney--who either dropped by her office or called a dozen times to get the latest updates on various matters--couldn't shake her good spirits. When the phone rang halfway through the afternoon, she answered automatically, expecting to hear Barney's voice, only to hear Jill on the other end.
"Now he's just showing off," her friend announced.
It took a second to identify the voice. "Jill?"
"So either the two of you got into a fight last night and he's hoping for forgiveness, or he's trying to make other men look bad."
"What are you talking about?"
"Colin. And the bouquet of roses he just sent you."
"He sent roses?"
"What did you think I was talking about? The delivery guy is waiting for you."
Maria glanced at her phone, noting the extension. "Why are you calling from Gwen's phone in the lobby?"
"Because I happened to be talking to Gwen when the delivery guy walked in, and I insisted that I be allowed to call you because this is getting ridiculous. Do you know how often Paul has sent me roses at work? Try never. And if you don't get out here soon, I might take the bouquet and stomp on it because it's making me question my entire relationship again. And believe me--you don't want that on your conscience."
Maria laughed. "No stomping, okay? I'll be right there."
When she entered the lobby, she spotted Jill standing beside a deliveryman in a baseball cap who was, sure enough, holding a bouquet of pink roses. Before she could thank him, the delivery guy handed the bouquet to her and abruptly turned away. A moment later, the lobby door was closing behind him, almost like he'd never been there at all.
"Charming fellow," Jill commented. "He couldn't even make small talk. He just kept saying your name whenever I asked a question. But you have to admit the bouquet is gorgeous."
Maria had to agree. The buds, enveloped in sprigs of baby's breath, were either closed or just barely beginning to wink open, and as she bent to smell them, she realized that the florist had been thoughtful enough to trim the thorns. "I can't believe he would do this," she remarked, inhaling the bouquet's delicate scent.
"It's almost sad," Jill said, shaking her head. "He must have serious self-esteem issues. Since he's always seeking your approval, I mean."
"I don't think Colin has self-esteem issues."
"Then he must be needy. You should probably break up with him before it gets any worse. You need someone like Paul, a guy who thinks first and foremost about himself."
Maria peered up at her friend. "Are you finished?"
"Did you get the sense that I'm envious?"
"Yes."
"Then yes. I'm finished. And I take it that the two of you talked and all is well again?"
"We made plans for tonight, in fact." She held out the bouquet toward Jill. "Would you mind holding this while I open the card?"
"Why not? It's not like you're trying to rub it in."
Maria rolled her eyes as she slid the card out and read it. She blinked before reading it a second time, her brow beginning to crease.
"What is it?" Jill asked.
"I wonder if they attached the wrong card. This one doesn't make sense."
"What does it say?"
Maria held it open to show Jill. "It says," she read, "You will know how it feels."
Jill wrinkled her nose. "Is that a private joke or something?"
"No."
"Then what is it supposed to mean?"
"I have no idea," Maria answered, growing more puzzled by the minute.
Jill handed back the bouquet. "It's a strange thing to write, don't you think?"
"Definitely strange," Maria conceded.
"Maybe you should call him and ask about what he meant."
Maybe, Maria thought. "He's probab
ly at the gym."
"So what? I'll bet he has his phone with him. Or you know what it could be? Maybe the florist made a mistake. He either attached the wrong card or wrote it down wrong."
"I guess that's possible," Maria agreed, and though she tried to convince herself it was true, she wondered whether either of them really believed it.
After putting the roses in the vase from the first bouquet of flowers, Maria continued to examine the card until finally deciding, Oh, what the hell? Pulling her cell phone from her purse, she rang Colin.
"Hey there," he said. "You're not calling to cancel on me tonight, are you?" He was breathing hard, and in the background, Maria could hear music and the sound of people running on the treadmill.
"No. I'm looking forward to it. Did I catch you at a bad time?"
"Not at all. What's up?"
"Just a quick question. I wanted to ask you about your message."
"What message?"
"On the card that came with the roses today. The card said, 'You will know how it feels,' and I'm not sure what you meant by that."
She could hear him breathing on the other end. "It wasn't me. I didn't send you roses today. Or a card."
Maria felt a sudden prickle on the back of her neck. You will know how it feels? It was weird enough if Colin had written it, but if it wasn't from him, that made the note...
Strange. Even creepy.
"What's it supposed to mean?" Colin said into the silence.
"I don't know. I'm still trying to figure it out."
"And you don't know who they came from?"
"There was no name on the card."
Colin said nothing to that, and trying to hide her own feeling of unease, she changed the subject. "I know you've got to get back to your workout--and I should get back to work--but what time will you be coming by tonight?"
"How about six thirty? I was thinking that we head down to the Riverwalk and play it by ear. I'm kind of in the mood to move, not just sit. And we can grab a bite while we're there."
"Sounds perfect. I've been planted in my chair the last couple of days, and a walk is just what I need."
As they hung up, she was picturing the way he looked in the gym... but then she caught sight of the roses again, as well as the card. The card with no name.
You will know how it feels.
She examined the card again, wondering if she'd be able to call the florist and find out who ordered them, only to realize that neither the envelope nor the card bore any markings whatsoever.
"You're distracted," Colin said as they walked hand in hand on the Riverwalk, the popular promenade along the Cape Fear River. Because it was midweek, the streets weren't crowded, and though it was still warm, the northerly breeze hinted at the possibility of cooler temperatures in the weeks ahead. For the first time in months, she was glad she was wearing jeans.
She shook her head. "I'm just trying to figure out who would have sent me the roses."
"Maybe you have a secret admirer."
"Aside from you, I haven't met anyone new lately. It's not as though I go out much, either. I'm either visiting my parents, paddleboarding, or at my place."
"Except when you're at work."
"No one at work would have sent them," she responded, but even as she said the words, Ken's image popped into her head. He wouldn't do that, would he? "Besides, the message doesn't really reflect someone's attempt to make me feel special. It does just the opposite, in fact."
"What about a client?"
"I guess it's possible," she conceded, but she had trouble believing it.
Colin squeezed her hand. "One way or the other, you'll find out who he is."
"You think it's a he?"
"Don't you?"
She nodded, absolutely sure of it, though there was no real indication. "The message... bothers me."
She hoped that he'd say something to make her feel better. Instead, he took a few steps before glancing at her.
"It bothers me, too."
Spending time with Colin somehow lessened her unease. Or at least it prevented her from dwelling on who might have sent the flowers and written the note. She didn't have the faintest clue who it might be, other than Ken, and while there was much to dislike about the man, she couldn't imagine him doing something like that.
As she and Colin walked, the conversation drifted from one topic to another. Eventually they stopped for ice cream cones, Colin surprising her by ordering one as well. They ate them as they stood at the railing that offered a view of the USS North Carolina, a battleship that had engaged in extensive action in World War II and had been formally retired, now docked on the other side of the Cape Fear River. She remembered touring it once on a field trip, recalling how cramped it was belowdecks, the claustrophobic feeling of the narrow corridors and tiny rooms. She wondered how sailors had managed to stay on board for months at a time without losing their minds.
They traversed the length of the Riverwalk while the setting sun slowly turned the river to gold, then leisurely browsed through whatever shops caught their interest. By the time the moon had begun to glow over the horizon, they finally stopped for dinner, and as she sat across the table from Colin, she found herself hoping that her parents would get to know this side of him, the one that made her feel comfortable and at ease. She wanted them to witness how happy she was when she was with him. On their way back to her condo, she invited Colin to brunch again, even if she wasn't sure her parents were ready for another visit.
When they made love that night, it was slow and tender, a deliberate dance as he moved above her, whispering her name and how much she meant to him. She gave herself over to him completely, lost in the moment and lost in him. In the afterglow, she fell asleep with her head on his chest, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She woke up twice--once a little after midnight and the second time an hour before dawn--and in the stillness of those moments she stared at him, still amazed that they'd become a couple and more certain than ever that each of them was exactly what the other needed.
When she entered her office Wednesday morning, her first thought was that she needed to get rid of the card. She tore it into pieces and dropped them into the wastebasket, then pulled up to her office computer. Reviewing her messages, she checked whether any of her clients had mentioned sending the flowers, but found nothing.
Meanwhile, Barney was waiting for her in the conference room, and it wasn't until nearly noon that she finally got back to her office. In her inbox she found yet another file that Barney had e-mailed, accompanied by a message suggesting she get a jump-start on it since he needed a summary by tomorrow. Which meant takeout lunch at her desk again. Glancing over at the roses, she realized she didn't want them in her office. Grabbing the bouquet and her purse, she left the building, rounding the corner toward the garbage bins.
She heaved the bouquet into the Dumpster, and was starting toward her car when she had the sudden sense that someone was watching her. Spotting no one in her vicinity, she dismissed the feeling at first. But it grew stronger, and as she began fishing through her purse for her car keys, she glanced toward the building.
There, standing at his office window, was Ken.
She dropped her gaze toward her purse again, pretending she hadn't noticed him. What was he doing and how long had he been standing there? For all she knew, there was someone else in his office and he was standing near the window with his back to them, but if he had been at the window when she'd walked out, he'd no doubt seen her throwing away the roses. And that wasn't good. If he'd sent them, he was probably going to be angry; if he hadn't, he might assume that she and Colin were on the outs. Either way, she worried that Ken just might feel the urge to drop by her office again for further discussions on whether she was really a team player.
Pulling open her car door, she was hit by a blast of heat from the sun-cooked interior, and as soon as she turned on the engine, she turned on the air conditioner. She decided to drive to the organic market, which had an
amazing salad bar, and as she exited the parking lot, she checked her rearview mirror, assuming Ken would be gone.
But he hadn't left the window. And though he was too far away for her to know for sure, she couldn't escape the feeling that he'd been watching her all along.
Returning from the store, she parked in the same spot she'd vacated, deciding to leave the windows cracked to cool the interior. Ken's car was already gone, and if history was any indication, he wouldn't be back until one thirty or so. Relieved, she tried to settle into work. Between the roses, the message, and now Ken, she felt ready to collect her things and go home. Maybe she could feign a migraine and leave early... but what was the point? Barney would still expect her to complete the work, and even at home, she knew she'd continue to obsess over the day's events.
You will know how it feels.
How what feels?
Because she'd rejected Ken's advances, was he planning to make her work life even more miserable?
If so, what would that mean?
She tried to force the questions away while putting together a time line relating to a customer who'd been injured in a fall and was suing a department store. It would take most of the afternoon, and as she began to jot down notes, she observed that her entire profession was part of a giant game in which the object was to amass billable hours, making attorneys the only guaranteed winners.
It was a cynical view, but how else could she explain how she was always so busy despite the fact that justice was anything but swift? She was still working on cases that had been initially filed years ago, and the case Barney had just assigned her had no chance of reaching the courtroom for at least eighteen months. And that's if things went smoothly, which was virtually impossible, since things never went smoothly. So why did Barney need the time line by tomorrow? What was so urgent?
At the back of her mind, she kept picturing Ken as he'd watched her. She wasn't going to let him blindside her again if he dropped by to supposedly discuss her career. She decided to keep her office door wide open even though the ambient office noise tended to distract her. That way, if Ken did decide to pay her a visit, she'd have a few extra seconds to prepare.