We are missing our friendship. That's what it must mean.
Still... I wonder.
After some debating over what to do with our day, we decide to head over to Museum Mile and hit the Met. Rowan has never been before and I figure on this chilly November day that it's warm and fairly quiet, and we can just hang out.
We take our time as we travel through the various galleries. Neither one of us are the type to seriously study a painting, but we do at least move past each one and give it more than a cursory glance. We could spend months in the Met if we wanted to study everything but I wanted to give her a taste of it all.
We make idle chitchat when we can, but for the most part, we are silently enjoying the art.
As we walk among some Spanish Renaissance pieces, Rowan stops before a painting and studies it a bit longer. I hold up and wait for her but she doesn't move, so I walk the few steps back to stand beside her.
She's gazing at El Greco's View of Toledo. I've never seen it before, or if I have, I've forgotten it, but it's quite beautiful with its dark storm clouds shadowing the lush, green hills, and the medieval city of Toledo, Spain in the distance. The more I look at it, the more I can see why Rowan is taken with it. It's both peaceful and edgy, which is a good way to describe Rowan.
"It's old," she says quietly.
Peering at the placard beside it, I see it was painted over four hundred years ago. But so have many of the paintings we've seen so I don't understand the significance of her statement.
"I can't imagine what it takes to preserve something this... special."
There's something about the tone of her voice that is haunting and I turn my eyes to her. Her profile is so fucking beautiful. Her lashes are long and lay like whispers on her cheeks, and her nose has just the slightest tilt upward that gives her that pixie look.
"I imagine a lot of techniques have been learned over the years," I muse, turning my gaze back to the painting.
"I imagine it takes a lot of hard work. I bet there's painstaking focus on the details."
I nod. "If it wasn't hard, then it wouldn't be so treasured."
She turns her head and I meet her gaze. She looks at me thoughtfully for a moment before she says, "Exactly."
Rowan turns and walks on to the next painting, and I'm not quite sure if we were just talking about art or something else.
We decide to eat a late lunch in the cafeteria at the Met, which has a surprising array of food. I choose a pastrami sandwich and Rowan tries their sushi, which I'm a bit dubious about eating from a cafeteria. She swears it's good after she takes the first bite and offers me some, but I decline. I'm not about to get food poisoning.
Her mood does seem to be lighter though, and after I decline her offer of sushi, she demands I give her a bite of my sandwich. I laugh and willingly hand it over to her, watching as she takes a huge bite.
She only chews twice and then she closes her eyes in rapture and lets out a moan. She clearly thinks the sandwich is amazing but damn if the sound she makes doesn't cause a surge of lust to drive through me. I thought I had made it past these feelings, but apparently not. I watch as she finishes the bite, giving a final swipe of her lips with her tongue, and I realize I am no further removed from my feelings for Rowan than I was right at the moment I first sunk my finger into her while she was pressed up against my door.
The image of that night flashes hot in my brain and I take a deep breath to move past it.
"Is something wrong?" Rowan asks.
I drag my gaze to hers and shake my head. "No. I'm good."
I'm anything but.
I still fucking want a woman that doesn't want me the same way. I decide a change of subject is order.
"So, what are your plans the rest of the weekend?" I ask her. I have four glorious days off and I have no clue what I'm going to do for all of it.
Rowan shrugs her shoulders. "No major plans, but I'm up for hanging out if you want to."
"Sure," I tell her, although I'm sure I'm setting myself up for some serious frustration. "And before I forget, we need to leave for my mom's house around noon on Thursday. I think she wants to eat around 2:00 PM, if that's okay with you?"
I hadn't mentioned Thanksgiving to Rowan lately, and I assume she's still on board with going, but since our friendship had been a little rocky the past few weeks, I'm greatly relieved to see her smiling.
"Sounds great. I'm going to make the pie early that morning but that's plenty of time."
"We won't stay over there too late because I have to be back to work the following morning."
"Not me. Nix gave me that Friday off."
"I thought he was an asshole," I tease.
She smirks. "He is, but he does have some nice moments."
Rowan reaches across the table and sneaks one of my fries. "So you want to rent some movies tonight? Order a pizza?"
Swallowing a bite of my sandwich, I take a quick drink of my soda before replying. "Um... I actually have a date tonight."
This is a bit awkward but no sense in hiding it.
Rowan glances down at her plate for a moment but when she looks back at me, there is a warm smile on her face. "So, when are you going to tell me all about your mad dating life? I mean... aren't friends supposed to share that stuff?"
Her smile looks genuine but I think she may be putting on an act because her voice sounds a little shaky. Could it be that Rowan is having second thoughts? Because if she is... she needs to fucking tell me so we can get on with it.
"Hmmm... let's see. Her name is Jennifer and she lives here in Brooklyn. She's a few years older than I am and works in a bank. She's like this really hardcore fitness nut though... I mean, really intense."
Rowan snorts. "Don't tell me she only drinks spinach shakes?"
I about spew the soda I'm taking a sip of because she's pegged Jennifer. "Sort of. It's actually a bit annoying when we go out to eat and she only nibbles on raw vegetables."
"Oh, God... I was just joking. She really does that?"
I laugh and nod. "But she's really nice and she's gorgeous, and..." I search for other words to nicely describe Jennifer but nothing is coming to mind. "And she's really successful... she's a banker." I throw that last part out because I don't know what else to say and I feel slightly guilty for even telling Rowan something about Jennifer that annoys me.
Rowan's smile slides off her face, and I have no clue what I've just said to make that happen, but she clues me in. "Wow... banker. You really landed yourself someone great."
She's trying to say it to give me a compliment on my new girlfriend, but she's saying it as a backhanded slap to herself, because she isn't an investment banker, which in turn doesn't make her good enough.
I reach across the table to grab her hand and she instantly tries to pull it away. I hold on tight.
When she looks at me, there is moisture in her eyes and my fucking heart cracks. "I didn't mean anything by that, Rowan. I was just struggling with what to say about her to you and that is the only thing that came to mind."
Blinking her eyes rapidly, I watch as the tears dissipate and she gives me a smile. "It's good. I know I'll never be successful like that. I had my shot at that type of life and I fucked it up."
"No," I tell her harshly. "Don't ever talk like that. You didn't miss your shot."
She's quietly staring at me so I continue on. "And who's to say what success is anyway? I look at you and your ability to take care of yourself in a very mean city, and you did it all on your own. How many people do you really think could do that without succumbing to things like crime or homelessness?"
Rowan blinks and then nods her head slightly. "You're right. I hear you."
"I'm serious about this, Rowan," I tell her. "You are amazing."
She smiles at me, and this time it has more light to it. "Thanks. You always know what to say to make me feel good about myself.
The thought that my words make Rowan smile causes happiness to bubble and well inside of me.
It makes me realize that I used to feel this way a lot around her, but that I haven't felt this way in a while.
I squeeze her hand and take a deep breath. "I feel like our friendship's taken a bit of a hit lately."
She sighs and squeezes back. The look on her face is one of deep affection and her smile is as warm as a desert breeze. "Yeah... I feel that way, too."
"Let's rectify that, okay?"
"Absolutely," she says, her smile flashing with joy.
We've completed Phase One of The Caldwell Thanksgiving Day Extravaganza. The food has been eaten and the top buttons on our pants have been undone. Flynn and Nora are in the kitchen, cleaning or miraculously eating another piece of pie, but everyone else has been shooed out to the living room.