Page 67 of An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice)

Say Uncle

Amanda

“Keep the change,”I told the cab driver. He flashed a grateful smile, but I was happy to tip him for being completely nonjudgmental. When a woman wearing an evening gown and a messy bun flags you down at 7:00am on a Sunday and you don’t even raise an eyebrow—you are my kind of taxi driver.

I gathered my shawl around me, took a deep breath, and opened the door. My mother was a notoriously early riser, but after running the biggest charity event of the season, she deserved to sleep in. Please, please.

It was quiet when I got inside. I took off my heels and prepared to tiptoe upstairs.

“Good mornin’, Amanda.” Busted. But fortunately not my mom.

I spun around, and Bonita was smiling at me.

“Good morning,” I said. “You’re up kind of early.”

“Your uncle Thomas is coming for dinner. I wanted to bake some dessert before church.”

“Ugh. Tonight? Doesn’t my mother take any time off?” My Sunday plan was to take a long bath, sleep all day, and then eat dinner in my PJs. Now I’d have to endure a grilling about what was going on at work.

Bonita nodded. “That’s exactly what I told her. So, you got Lucky?”

I laughed. Bonita was a hockey fan, and the only one in the house who called Chris by his nickname. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

She smiled. “I like him. You could do a lot worse.”

That was true. In fact, it was tough to imagine doing any better. But I knew better than to live in some fantasy world. Chris was not a commitment type of guy, and even if he were—I shook my head. Last night was the fulfillment of all my fantasies and more. But when I woke up this morning and saw Chris sleeping there, I didn’t want to wreck anything. So I took off. Bock, bock, like a chicken.

I gave Bonita a hug. “I’m going to take a nap.”

She nodded. “You want breakfast?”

“No, thanks.” I was still half-floating. I went to my bedroom, got undressed, and hung up my dress. I ran a hand over the satiny folds. Would I ever wear this again? It would be tough to find another night as momentous as this. This was probably going to be my favourite dress of all time. April was wrong. Therewasa place in my closet for sentimentality.

I went into my bathroom and started up the hot water. I poured in a huge scoopful of lavender bath salts. The pretty scent filled the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. The red welt where Chris had bitten my neck stood out against my pale skin. I was branded with a mark of passion. “Now I am a real woman,” I said to my reflection dramatically. Then I giggled at how utterly ridiculous I was being. I sank happily into the hot scented water of the tub.

After a long bath, I napped until the afternoon and then went out for a long walk. It was drizzling out, but the weather didn’t bother me. For once, I wasn’t thinking or worrying about a thing. There were signs of spring everywhere with tiny purple flowers pushing their heads up in the gardens. And a few cherry blossom trees were already in bloom. I took a deep inhale of the fresh air. A couple walking their dog greeted me and I smiled at them. A golden glow lay over me and everyone I saw.

When I got home, I went up to my room and realized my phone was dead. As I recharged it, messages popped up. Cynthia, naturally, wanting to debrief. What version of the truth was I going to tell her? And Greg reminding me that I was his favourite sister in case I needed someone to use the hockey package I’d bought. And a message from Chris!

Hey Cinderella, where’d you go?

Maybe women fleeing first thing in the morning weren’t what he was used to. I tried to sound casual.

Had to leave before my carriage turned into a pumpkin.

I waited, but there was no answer right away, so I started to get ready for the Sunday family dinner. Now when I opened the closet, I could wear anything instead of having to hunt for something appropriate. I put on a cream cashmere sweater that survived the purge and some new navy dress pants with a faint check pattern. As I was brushing my hair, my phone rang.

It was Chris. I swallowed and took a deep breath. Act natural, normal, and all that good stuff.

“Oh hey, Chris.”

“Mandy.” His voice was like a caress, and I felt instantly turned on. “I missed you this morning.”

“Well, I don’t do breakfast.” What? What was I even saying? Of course, I did breakfast.

“Do you do dinner?”

“Dinner?”

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