Page 3 of The Most Dearest
“Yeah, I’ve got a fair bit on my plate at the moment. I’m going to be working late today and tomorrow and was wondering if you could maybe take Nettie for a walk tonight?”
“Absolutely!” I’d offered to walk Nettie before, but this was the first time he’d taken me up on it.
“Cool, thanks. The gate’s unlocked and I’ll leave her lead on the back table.”
“No worries. Have a great day, I gotta go. I feel like I’m circumnavigating the globe today,” I laughed.
He walked backwards across my lawn, waving. “Bye Cordelia, have a good one.”
He really was very sweet. If I had a sister who was single, I’d try to weave my magic. He was a nice guy.
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Ugh, my feet were killing. Ten hours in high heels was not how a body should be treated. I sat on the sofa, rubbing my feet. Harrison had cooked dinner, and we were now hanging out together before bed.
“Harrison, I seriously think we should get a cat. They aren’t as full on as dogs, and they clean themselves.”
“Not right now. We don’t need the hassle of a pet. And they may clean themselves, but that doesn’t mean they’re clean. It’d leave hair everywhere."
“I’d vacuum regularly,” I insisted. “And you wouldn’t have to do anything.”
He leaned over and put a hand on my leg. “Babe, let’s just wait.” As he ran his hand up and down my leg, he screwed up his face. “Your leg is like a cactus. Going for the wild woman look, are you? Shouldn’t you shave for work?”
I pulled my legs up and tucked my feet under my butt. “I don’t shave; I wax. You know that. I’m waiting a few more days until the hair is a decent enough length. And fuck you. You walked out with Mt Vesuvius on your face this morning.” He hated it when I was “ungroomed,” which pissed me off. What about if we had a baby? There’s no way I’d be perfect and hair-free every day of my life.
He smiled. “Sorry, babe. You know I love you the way you are. And by the way, Mt Vesuvius erupted just before lunch. I had no idea until a customer kept looking at my head. By the time I took my break, it was dripping down between my eyebrows.”
“Ew.”
“At least I’m not going to scar,” he replied, kissing my forehead. He reached out to the coffee table, grabbing the hand sanitizer. We had a million bottles of the stuff stashed away around the house. He’d taken his pharmacy training very seriously and sanitized more than a surgeon would. Squeezing the bottle, he rubbed it into his hands, the smell infiltrating my senses with its sharp alcoholic edge. I sighed, returning to my phone. Oooh, I love that print. It would be perfect in the hall.
Chapter 4: Cordelia - Doubt
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark
Hamlet, William Shakespeare
I was feeling in a basil mood, so pesto pasta was on the menu tonight. Harrison was fussy about ingredients in processed foods, so I was so busy reading the details on the jar that I missed the woman coming up beside me.
“Cordelia? So lovely to see you.” It was Maria Howard, Harrison’s boss’s wife. She was a kind woman and was heavily involved in community organizations.
“Maria, how are you? Is Sarah loving college?” Maria smiled proudly She and Brian were so proud of their daughter, who was studying to become a pharmacists, just like her father.
“She is, but she said it’s such a big jump from high school. She’s coming home this weekend, no doubt for me to do her laundry, but I’ll take any excuse to see her.”
The Howards were a beautiful family. Sarah and her little brother Brendan were good people and hard workers. They had spent many of their childhood hours packing boxes and doing busy work in the pharmacy. Harrison admired their work ethic and was fascinated by Sarah. He was interested in anyone who expressed an interest in his profession, and I think the idea of an admiring teen was highly appealing to his ego.
“Harrison is doing well.” Was she asking me or telling me? I stared at her to try to discern her tone. “Um, thank you.” I chose to identify her tone as a “telling” tone rather than an “asking” tone, though there was no upward inflection at the end.
“Yes, well, I just hope you’re both so happy together.” What was this woman trying to tell me? Was Harrison fucking up at work?
“Is everything okay, Maria?” I asked. I was a polite person, but I also didn’t beat around the bush.
“I’m sure it is. Harrison has just been a little distracted lately, that’s all.” If things were uncomfortable before, they were downright tense now.
“With what?” I asked.
“Oh, I have to go. I’ve got a church meeting in 10 minutes. Maybe just ask him if training our new staff member is causing him stress. He’s a bit preoccupied.” She dashed off, denying me the opportunity to prompt her further. Was this a workplace bullying situation? Harrison was a passive person, but he wasn’t a doormat. Grabbing a different pesto, without reading the label, I wandered over to the checkout area. I’d have to talk to him tonight.
