Page 34 of Like A Daydream
As the day went on, he found himself wondering if even the tourists were regulars, coming back season after season, if only to get a little peace and quiet. He’s sure that some of them were, one family even mentioning it to him as he was checking out their purchase.
The only two people he isn’t quite sure about yet are the twin brothers, who, the first time he’d met them asked for an autograph, and this second time called him a liberal demon-rat. Which, he’s only eighty percent sure is a bad thing, here.
It’s still better than the names he’d been called in the last three weeks.
The door flies open as he finishes straightening up the counter, and Danielle moves past him quickly. He lifts his hand in a greeting, but he doesn’t think she sees him because she doesn’t respond, just heads to the back office.
He watches her disappear, and finishes organizing the bookmarks, waiting for her to come back. Then he moves to the wall calendar section, which he determines is his own personal hell after about five minutes trying to match and organize them.
Calendar people are monsters.
It’sJune. The year is half over, no one should need a calendar right now.
He doesn’t care that they’re on sale. January is the time for new One Direction calendars.
Danielle doesn’t come out from the office, and he finds himself walking the aisles and straightening books that Cara had missed, and wiping down each shelf with a dust-cloth. His eyes flick to the glow of the office light with every swipe of the cloth.
Roscoe stands from where he had been sleeping by the counter, and he stretches before trotting back to where Danielle was hiding.
“Roscoe!” Andrew whisper-shouts. “Come back here!”
The dog doesn’t listen, and he doesn’t come back after he checks on her, like he normally will. Roscoe usually does a check on everyone in his general vicinity once every hour, then he’ll go back to his nap, having the audacity to sigh like his life is hard.
Andrew tugs a hand through his hair, waits another minute, and then follows the dog’s lead back to the office. At least he can get Roscoe out of Danielle’s hair, and let her know that he was going to lock up because Cara left early.
As he gets closer to the office, he hears the unmistakable sound of crying.
He stops dead, unsure of what he should do. If it was anyone else, he would stay out of it. Comforting someone is intimate, and sometimes ill-received. Unless they explicitly ask him, he never makes the first move. But, this is Danielle. Someone he likes, and wants to know. A girl who, according to JT, has been through a lot in the last few weeks.
She seems like she might just need someone, anyone, to be there for her. So, he can do the brave thing and be that person, or he can be a coward and let his dog do it for him.
He takes a breath, releases it. Rocks from his heels to his toes, and shakes out his hands. Bounces up and down on the balls of his feet a couple of times.
This feels like he’s getting ready to go on the ice, not trying to talk to a girl who seems like she needs a person to be on her side right now.
He decides to be brave.
He crosses the threshold of the office, only to see Danielle with her head buried in one arm on her desk, the other stroking Roscoe’s head where it rests in her lap. Her shoulders are shaking, and she’s trying to stay quiet but it’s not working.
Every couple of sniffs, a sob breaks free, and Roscoe scoots closer to her, watching with sad eyes.
Andrew crosses the room, picking up a chair as he does so and setting it a safe distance away from her before sitting down. He faces her, rests his hands on his knees, moves them to his lap, fidgets with his bracelet, scratches the back of his neck.
“I’m going to hug you,” he blurts, “if that’s okay. If not, just hit me.”
A sob rips through Danielle’s throat and she turns into him before he even has his arms up.
She buries her face into his chest and clings to his neck and he feels his heart crack in two. This is a woman who has desperately needed to be held, but no one has been there to offer.
He wraps an arm around her waist, smoothing his hand up and down her back as she cries into his shirt. Her breathing is erratic, but she relaxes at his touch.
Andrew isn’t sure how much time passes as they sit in the quiet of the office, him not even trying to say anything and just holding her.
He’s not sure he’severheld a woman while she’s cried before but he knows without a doubt, he’ll do it for this one over and over. As many times as she asks, and even if she doesn’t.
She pulls away and reaches for the box of tissues on her desk, dabbing at her eyes with one before reaching for another and blowing her nose.
She meets his eyes, then looks away quickly, like she’s embarrassed.
