If she were his student, he would dig into her resistance, find the nugget of fear or negative thinking holding her back, and help her flesh out a business plan. But she wasn’t his student. And he had an idea Bryony Green would not want to be probed or analyzed in any way, shape, or form. She had a strength about her, but also a fragility. He liked both of those qualities. They were real, honest. His desire to know everything about her grew stronger every time he saw her, but he wanted their connection to unfold organically, to not be pushed by artificial timelines like the end of a date, the completion of a school year, a deadline on his tenure in Fieldstone. He considered he might someday soon find himself in some kind of emotional trouble with her, but it was the most appealing trouble he could imagine. Why would he stop now?
They talked through the rest of the meal, Bryony not shy with him anymore. She was funny and kind and interesting.
Maggie brought doggie bags. Bryony insisted on paying. She said she was doing it on behalf of the community, for his service to their young people. Other than the Hendersons, nobody had shown as much appreciation since his move there, not even Mitch when they went out for burgers.
When he pulled into a parking spot in front of the coffee shop, Cal quipped about her being unable to invite him into her house for a drink after he walked her to the door. Instead, he suggested he could accompany her into the coffee shop and make a pot of decaf while she cleaned up.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll work faster on my own. Thanks for dinner.” She climbed out of the car.
“That’s it?” he asked.
She bent down, said, “Goodnight, Cal,” and shut the car door.
He watched her walk across the sidewalk, unlock the door to the shop, turn on the lights, and give a little wave before closing the door behind her.
All he wanted to do was follow her inside, watch as she worked, and spend time with her.
“What an interesting woman!” Cal said. He drove home, chastising himself again for his petty judgement about her choice of dining places, trying to remember word for word everything she had said. Had she really called him an unwelcome surprise right before saying she couldn’t help but say yes to him?
Bailey demanded a walk the minute Cal entered his house. He leashed up his best canine friend and trotted out the door with him.
“Bailey old boy,” Cal said. “I met someone.” Bailey sniffed the telephone pole in the tree lawn.
“Remember the woman you knocked down when you were in pursuit of a cat, right before your stage debut?”
Bailey trotted to the next pole.
“She’s kind of awesome. Not hard to look at, the right age, not married, intelligent, kind, funny.” Gene Kelly singing in the rain came to mind. Cal laughed and clicked his heels once.
Surprising he should have such strong feelings about someone who was practically a stranger. He had never believed in love at first sight, but if he had to name the feelings Bryony inspired, he would have to say the phrase might be apt. Funny this should happen to him for the first time in his fifties.
Bailey finished up with another pole and moved on to a bush.
“The problem, Bailey, is geographic.”
Bailey sniffed a spot, inspected it again, and moved on a foot farther to do his business.
Cal pulled a plastic bag from his pocket and slid it over his hand to pick up the pile.
“What a load of crap,” he said. “Why couldn’t she live closer to Cleveland?”
BRYONY’S WELCOME SURPRISE
Tables gleaming, bread racks clean, BeanHereNow stood ready for the next morning. Bryony finished counting the money and zipped it inside the bank bag. Taking the bag to the drop off slot at the bank so late in the evening involved risk, but leaving it in the shop overnight seemed riskier.
An easy solution to her unease about the deposit would have been to have Cal walk with her to the bank, but she had needed the evening together to end. He would have been a complete distraction from the tasks she completed in less than thirty minutes.
He outtalked any man she knew, which she was starting to like very much. He seemed to appeal to all kinds of people, which she also liked. His imperfections, like his annoying way of not giving up, seemed almost perfect.
She shook her head, smiled, and picked up the money bag. He was too good to be true.
With her shawl draping her shoulders, Bryony carried the deposit bag to the front door. Her cell rang and she put down the bag to fumble in her purse for her phone. Eager anticipation of a call from the man with diamonds in his ears turned to annoyance when she saw Mitch’s name flash on her screen.
“Bry!” Mitch said. “What’s up?”
Her brother never called to chat. Bryony sat in a chair and sighed. “What’s wrong?” Something with their father? He seemed fine the last time she saw him.
“I hear you had dinner with Cal Forster,” Mitch said.
“What?” Bryony looked up. Rain pellets hit the window with vigor, and a car passed by the shop. “Who told you?”
“Does it matter?”
Her heart rate increased, pumping up a sense of being caught in the act. She closed her eyes. Would she ever be able to do what she wanted to do without feeling like she required permission?
“I think I told you before,” Mitch said. “You might want to steer clear. Besides not being a good fit for you, he’ll be gone at the end of the school year. Even if Henderson doesn’t return—I shouldn’t be telling you, so don’t tell anyone—funding for the program will likely be cut.”
“Why?” Bryony sat up straighter in the chair and turned to look at the service counter. “Todd’s working out great for us. He’s a good kid, and I think the experience here has helped him.”
“Not my call,” Mitch said. “It’s all about money, money, money, and the school board has the final say.”
“But you have influence,” Bryony said. “Can’t you talk to them, lobby for Cal, I mean for the program?”
“What’s it to you?” Mitch asked. “Don’t tell me you’re serious about him.” He snorted a laugh. “Have you noticed he has pierced ears? He is so not your type.”
Of course Mitch would have noticed the holes in Cal’s ears. Mitch missed the important facets of a person, and noticed the features he could criticize or ridicule.
