A May-September Wedding (7 page)

They were more
than just friends. She knew that. Cal could do all the yard work
without stopping in after for a cup of coffee and a ten minute chat
that stretched to an hour. She didn't have to do those extras when
she helped over at his house. He was perfectly capable of folding
his own laundry, but it felt good to help. And there were all the
suppers with the five of them that he'd started to cook on a
regular basis. And afterward Tim would retreat to the Xbox or the
television and the girls would head to Lydia's or Felicity's room
for a gossip fest leaving the two of them to tidy and chat.

She shrugged
herself into a new modest black evening dress that reminded her
that she was still supposed to be in mourning and went downstairs
to wait for Cal.

Felicity
looked at her father dressed in his full formal Buchanan Hunting
kilt and black tie and jacket. "A kilt? In October? Dad..."

"Well, it was
that or rent a tux. All of my black suits are getting shabby."

"Well, at
least you're wearing hunting tartan. That Buchanan Ancient kilt
makes my eyes ache."

"You liked it
well enough when we had that arisaid made for you." Cal transferred
his wallet and keys into the sporran.

"Dad...Girls
can wear a tartan that's mostly yellow and red with green and black
highlights. It just looks weird on you."

"I'm tempted
to go change into it." Cal teased.

Felicity
quickly said, "No. Don't. Someone will take a picture that will get
in the papers and I'll have to explain at church or at school on
Monday. At least the Hunting doesn't make you look like you're
wearing a tablecloth from a vegan restaurant."

Elaine stood
in the doorway with Emily. "I think you look handsome, Dad. I hope
you enjoy yourself tonight." Cal gave Elaine and Emily a careful
hug and turned to Felicity. "Okay, fell Beast. It's time for me to
head across the street."

"I need to get
something from Lydia's room." Then Felicity turned her hands into
claws and pretended to attack. "Aren't you afraid that the fell
beast will stalk you and take you prisoner?"

Cal held
Felicity's jacket for her. "I'm shaking in my shoes. Can't you hear
my knobby knees knocking together?"

Felicity
shrugged on her jacket and pretended to stalk her father. "No. But
then fell beasts hunt by sense of smell. And I could find you
anywhere with all that aftershave you used."

Cal barked a
laugh as he folded his topcoat over his arm and opened the door.
Elaine echoed the laugh as she waved goodbye.

Felicity ran
ahead to get into the Schuyler's well before her father.
"Lydia!"

Lydia looked
up from her book to see Felicity beckoning urgently as she ditched
her jacket. "You have got to see this. We have to see Mum's
reaction."

Cal sauntered
behind Felicity to stand in the entrance. Lydia's eyes widened as
she got a good look at Cal. "Mum! Your date's here!"

Phyl tried to
put on a mask of annoyance as she came from the family room holding
a pair of strappy sandals. She stopped dead as she took in Cal's
military bearing enhanced by the elegant purple and blue kilt with
the formal black jacket and bow tie.

Cal scanned
his beautiful blonde neighbour and felt his heart quicken. "Good
evening, Mrs. S. Would you like a few minutes?"

Phyl felt
butterflies doing formation flying in her stomach as Cal's rich
baritone washed over her senses. "No, I just need my coat and a
shoe bag." She looked him over once more. "I don't think I've seen
you in that before."

"I felt that I
needed to wear something formal tonight. I haven't worn the hunting
tartan in years."

"Don't let him
get away with that, Mum. He said all his black suits are looking
shabby cause he wears them so much these days." Felicity stuck out
her tongue at her father.

Phyl said, in
what she hoped was a smooth tone, "Well, it looks very elegant."
Willing her knees to work, she dropped her shoes into a medium
sized cloth bag and put on her boots. As she rose, Cal already had
her coat ready for her to slip into.

"You look
elegant, too" Cal murmured as he assisted her into the coat. Phyl
hoped he hadn't felt the shudder that coursed through her as she
felt his breath on her bare neck.

The girls
moved quickly to the living room window to watch Cal hand Phyl into
the car.

Lydia opened.
"Well, that was interesting."

Felicity said,
"It was, but what did you think was so interesting?"

Lydia watched
the car drive away and moved over to throw herself onto the couch.
"Mum went out today to buy that dress. I heard her muttering about
whether it was modest enough for a widow to wear to her first party
since Dad died."

"She did look
gorgeous. But can you believe Dad? He only wears his Scottish stuff
on Burns Day or when we go the the Highland Games in Maxville. Mom
always thought he looked silly in it, so he didn't wear it
often."

"Well, Mum
didn't think it looked silly, not at all. Did you see the smile she
gave your Dad?"

"They are so
not fooling anyone." Felicity looked smug.

"Yeah. But I
think they both feel guilty about liking each other." Lydia
frowned.

"That isn't just like, Lydia. They look at each other like
Bella and Edward do in
Twilight.
"

Lydia pondered
this for a while. "You're right," she said, wondering, "they do
look at each other like that. But I still bet they won't do
anything about it." Lydia yelled. "Tim! Time to go!"

The main
ballroom of the Westin was packed. Cal and Phyl were seated at a
table with an assistant coach from the Ottawa Senators and his
wife, a city councillor and her husband and two other couples who
knew of Brenda's work as a literacy volunteer. The conversation was
light and it was the coach's wife who had the best stories to
tell.

The keynote
address was by Senator Jacques Demers who had gone public a few
years before with the astonishing news that he'd coached and
managed several professional hockey teams for decades while hiding
the fact that he was illiterate. He told his story quietly and
described all the the hidden problems he'd dealt with over the
years. He encouraged all of the volunteers to keep donating their
time and their passion for reading. He admitted that he had been a
very lucky man to have a great job that he loved for so many years
despite his inability to read or write, but that he knew of too
many people who are now living on the streets of our cities because
they can't master this essential skill.

Cal, who was a
hockey fan, had heard the story of Coach Demers before, but Phyl
hadn't. "What an amazing man," she said. "I don't know which took
more courage – working that hard to stay on top of everything when
he couldn't read or admitting to the world that he couldn't
read."

T
he rest of the table were discussing Phyl's comment
over dessert and coffee when Senator Demers came over to speak with
the Senators' coach, who had played for Demers in Detroit. With
much prompting, Phyl repeated her comment while blushing prettily
and Demers answered in his usual forthright way, "Admitting it was
much tougher. But seeing all these people here raising money to
make sure that people like me can get help once they finally admit
they can't read makes it worth it." He shook Phyl's hand and
thanked her for her support and moved on to another table.

The squawks
and blatts of the horn section tuning up warned everyone that the
dancing was going to start soon. Cal and Phyl took a tour of the
silent auction tables as the wait staff cleared the dinner dishes.
Phyl put in a very high bid for an autographed copy of Coach
Demers' book.

As they
strolled, they met more than two dozen people who'd known Brenda
and stopped to give their condolences or to share memories. A few
people Phyl knew from Harry's work events or the stands at soccer
games did the same. At the reminders of their late spouses, they
realized that they were standing too close to each other to be mere
friends and drifted apart slightly only to move closer later
on.

Then the band
got the dancing going with one of their signature pieces,
Doin'
It Right (On the Wrong Side of Town).
Over the volume, Phyl
said, "This is what I came for, Cal. Let's dance."

Finding a less
crowded corner they did a modified jitterbug to the fast paced
tune. Phyl laughed when she realized that when Cal twirled quickly
the kilt rose to show about five inches of his muscular thighs. The
next tune was almost as fast and they danced a modified Texas swing
to that one. By the time the third dance started, Cal was almost
winded, but it was a slow ballad in four, so they decided to show
everyone how a proper foxtrot worked.

Holding him
close enough to feel his warmth and smell his cologne, Phyl felt a
confusing set of emotions. People had been reminding her all
evening that this was her best friend's husband. How could she
possibly be so attracted to him? Her head was saying that Harry was
only dead eight months and Brenda only five. He was older than her
late father and only five years younger than her father-in-law. But
her heart told her that he was kind and loving and considerate and
her eyes told her that he was handsome and very masculine. She
sighed and leaned closer to him as their movements became more
synchronized.

Cal felt Phyl
press closer as they danced. With all of the reminders of Brenda
tonight, he should be feeling guilty about enjoying this dance. But
Phyl felt right in his arms, almost like she completed him the way
Brenda had. He wanted to look into Phyl's blue eyes, but he was
afraid of what he would see. More importantly, he was afraid that
if he saw what he expected he would want to do something about
it.

So he took a
deep breath and fixed his eyes at a point over her shoulder and
tried not to think about the supple curve of her back under his
right hand or the brush of her legs against his as they turned or
the perfect way that her right hand fit in his or about the
orange-mango and baby powder scent that was driving his thoughts in
a very unchaste direction. With an effort he banished those
impulses firmly back behind the crumbling wall between friendship
and desire.

Phyl felt Cal
stiffen slightly about halfway through the dance and decided that
it was not a good night to try to get closer to him. With a small
sigh of disappointment she refocused on the music and concentrated
on enjoying the dancing. With her best and most handsome
friend.

"Phyl, I need
some help." Cal's voice on the phone sounded exasperated.

"What's up
Cal."

"Felicity has
barricaded herself in her room. I'm sure that something happened at
school today. I'm guessing that her period took her by surprise and
that she got teased or something." Cal still sounded
exasperated.

"What do you
want me to do?"

"Maybe she'll
tell you what happened. She won't talk to me and I don't have time
to wait her out. I'm supposed to go inspect some stonework at the
church tonight. The masons are coming next week to give an estimate
and I want to make sure they're only going to fix what's
broken."

Cal could
almost hear Phyl thinking. "Okay, I'll come over in a couple of
minutes. I'll try to get her to come over to my place and I can
talk to both of the girls at the same time. If Felicity has started
her cycles then Lydia won't be far behind. I've been expecting it
for the past two years."

"Well, they do
most things together."

"See you in a
bit."

Cal said
goodbye and hung up the phone. Saying a quick prayer for patience,
he walked back upstairs to Felicity's bedroom door. "Felicity,
sweetheart, I've asked Phyl to come over. I have to head down to
the church."

A muffled
voice came through the door. "I'm not a kid. I don't need someone
to look after me."

"I know that,
sweetie, but it sounds like you need to talk to someone. If I won't
do, maybe Phyl will. Or you could call Elaine."

"Just go
away."

Cal took two
deep breaths. "Okay, Beast, I'm heading for the church. See you
later."

There was only
a loud humph from behind the closed door.

Cal had his
boots and jacket on when Phyl knocked.

"How is
she?"

"I don't know.
She told me to go away. So I'm going." Cal stood aside while Phyl
took off her boots and coat.

"It's tough
playing to a closed door. This sounds more like a Lydia tactic to
me."

"She doesn't
do it often, but when she does it's pretty impressive. Usually
she's in my face about whatever is bothering her."

Phyl reached
up and patted Cal's cheek in a familiar way. "But if you're right
about it being her first period, old man," she changed her voice to
mimic teenage angst, "you couldn't possibly understand."

Cal forced
himself not to trap Phyl's hand or return the gesture. He laughed
and said, "You sounded just like Elaine did for the last five years
she lived at home."

Phyl turned at
the bottom of the stairs, "But I was a teenage girl once. Can't you
tell?"

Cal shook his
head and said, "See you in a couple of hours. Your place?"

"Try there
first."

Cal was out
the door when Phyl sat down on the stairs listening for the car to
start. She closed her eyes and winced. Had she just been flirting
with
him
? She put her head in her hands.
I was flirting with him. I haven't done that in far too long.
That was fun.
She put on a smile and headed
upstairs.