She wasn’t sleeping when he came in, although she let him think so. Her feet were up and her eyes were closed, so she didn’t blame him for thinking so – but you can’t really fall asleep with a baby in your arms. Not unless you’re exhausted. She was tired but not that tired. It had been a very intense last six months. This did not concern her. She was used to intense.
She knew he would shower and after he had crept past the nursery she placed her feet on the ground and Rose in her bassinet. He would be full of his own intense energy – one she had always been attracted to ever since they met.
They met in university. Both of them were unconventional students. She had spent her years immediately following high school taking care of her mother. By the time her mother had passed and she decided to go back to school, she had already had a number of bad jobs and boyfriends.
She remembered when she first saw him. He was reading a very large book with very small print in the library late at night. The complete works of Shakespeare. She was there searching for an art history book. As soon as she saw him she could tell he was one of those readers that completely lost themselves in whatever the tome of the day happened to be. He had a habit of idly dragging his thumb along a jawline so sharp she feared he may cut himself.
As a test, she decided to glide past in the way she knew men liked.
Not even the hint of a glance.
This vexed her in a way she didn’t notice at the time.
All these years later, he still vexed her. She knew he was upstairs showering. She wondered what he looked like with his face upturned to the deluge. She smiled at herself. All in good time.
For now, Rose needed attending. She collected the few items they thought important and placed them in the webbing of the car carrier. Her mother had always told her she was gifted. And she had taught her daughter well. So when she felt the twinge of apprehension that presaged the need to consult, she made sure Rose was still sleeping soundly and she went back into the nursery.
Inside one of the closets she had set up a secondary reading space. Prepared according to not just the way her mother had taught her, but in ways that were unique to her and her understanding.
After he had ignored her in the library, she found her art history book. And then took it to the chair right next to him and sat down. She plonked a book the equal of his inches from him and smiled sweetly when he looked up at her – still not quite back from The Rose theater.
It wasn’t like her to be so bold. She should have taken the hint.
She remembered he said something witty but could never remember what. That and he used the word adroit correctly in a sentence. He introduced himself. She thought the last name sounded familiar but decided not to mention it. She would find out later this went a long way towards the friendship they developed after that night.
He went on to study subjects as varied as he was curious, which was more than any other man she had met. She got her dual major in philosophy and art history – and then went overseas and got a Ph.D. in Western Esotericism.
When she got back with her degree she wasn’t surprised at all when she got an email from him offering her a job. He didn’t even ask her what she had been doing in all the years since they had parted ways.
Just asked her if she needed a job.
She immediately agreed and not just because she was unemployed. Somehow she knew François would be a part of her life. Knew it in the way she had known things since she was a child. Knew it in the way her mother had known things since she was a child.
So when apprehension twinged, she listened. She opened the closet in the nursery. She did the quick rite and always called gratitude to mind, even in the face of apprehension. Inside was one of the many tarot decks she had made personally, the rose deck, and pulled according to intuition. Cards leapt from the deck.
Her apprehension deepened but she knew it unwise to probe further, so she collected the cards and placed them back in their place.
By then François was back downstairs. She met him in the kitchen. His skin glowed.
She placed Rose in her carrier and walked him out to the SUV. She put Rose in the passenger seat and kissed her gently. She wasn’t worried about Rose at all. The universe had plans for this one. Big plans.
She was worried about François.
She walked him over to the driver side. She took his arm and gently turned him. She stepped close. He smelled like soap. She slipped her arms up under his and up his back, she placed her head on his chest and breathed him deep. His arms encircled and enfolded. Their hips touched.
She felt the stars move. He lingered for a second too long and then broke contact. He grinned his lopsided grin and got into the SUV and then he drove away.
Gretchen needed more than a few seconds to compose herself, as she could not quite trust her knees.
Then she went back inside and called an uber driver with the ability to accommodate a wheelchair to go get Iggy. He wasn’t going to be happy about having to come right back.
But she was going to need him.
Something was going to happen.
Something bad.
