This Summer Will Be Different(45)

Through Bridget, I learned how Felix’s home had shaken the night of the storm. He was without power for weeks. But he was okay. His house was okay. Salt Cottages were well under construction, and they, too, were unharmed. There were trees down everywhere. One narrowly missed his truck. A neighbor’s roof had been torn off. Felix was lucky.

Summer Wind was less fortunate. The windows on the north side of the building had been shattered; the rooms facing the sea soggy with water damage. Cedar shingles were torn off the side of the building.

Once Felix’s power returned, Bridget told him to get his ass on a plane and come for a visit.



* * *



? ? ?

It was a Wednesday evening in October, and while it wasn’t face masks and Thai, Bridget and I were together. We sat on the pretty back patio of a snack bar in the west end with Miles and Carter, one of the rare occasions when all our schedules aligned. The space was enclosed in glass for the cooler months and full of plants, like a greenhouse that served burrata. A fifth chair sat empty at our table. Felix would be arriving any minute.

This would be his second trip to Toronto. He and Ken had driven Bridget to the city for her first year of university. They’d shlepped her stuff into the residence hall, ate wings at a pub near the campus, spent one night at a hotel in the north end, then hightailed it out of there. Rush-hour traffic, a late-summer garbage day, and the disaster that is frosh—Toronto hadn’t made the best impression.

According to Bridget, Felix was now dating a paramedic named Chloe. The news had surprised me. Felix hadn’t seen anyone seriously since he and Joy broke up four years earlier.

“Bee,” Bridget said. “Leg.”

I apologized. I hadn’t realized I’d been jiggling it. I shouldn’t have been anxious to see Felix again. For the first time since I met him, we were both in relationships. And while the night Felix and I spent together over Thanksgiving last year had felt more than ever before, we were back to normal the next day and parted with a friendly hug at the airport. This time would be different. Good different, I told myself.

“Wolf! You made it,” Bridget said, looking over my shoulder. She got to her feet and squeezed his cheeks. Felix dropped an overnight bag on the floor. I hadn’t seen him in twelve months, and he looked great. More mature. His beard was still short, but his hair was, too, cropped close on the sides, the waves no longer crashing over his forehead. He wore a leather jacket that looked new, a white Henley underneath, and jeans cuffed over his suede boots. He was casual compared to the rest of us—Miles was in a business suit and Carter had a cashmere sweater over his collared shirt—but on someone as attractive as Felix, it read like a power move. We gave each other a polite hug, I introduced Carter, and Felix took the seat next to me.

“How long are you staying?” I asked, doing my best not to stare. It felt like a magic trick. Felix here. In the city. On this patio.

“Just a few days,” he said. “The bathroom tile for the cottages is finally being delivered Saturday. I want to install it soon so we can get a photographer out. We want the website ready when people start booking their summer vacation.”

I needn’t have been nervous. Dinner was easy. Fun. Natural. There weren’t any awkward moments or sex-eyes. Felix described flying into Toronto, how the lights glowed orange and white in the night sky and then he noticed fireworks bursting across the entire GTA. The woman beside him explained they were for Diwali, but it felt like a special welcome. Just once, when Carter had his arm around my shoulder, did I notice Felix watching Carter’s fingers twiddling the ends of my hair.

Carter had an early client presentation the next morning and left while we ordered a last round.

“You should come by In Bloom tomorrow if you have time,” I told Felix as we said our good nights in front of the restaurant. “I’m there all day until we close at six.”

He said, “Sure, maybe I will.” And when we hugged, he held me just a little tighter than he had earlier in the night.

The next day passed with no sign of Felix—not that I was surprised. I had offered him a tepid invitation, and he had given me a noncommittal response. Farah left early to prepare for a spoken-word performance at an upscale essential oil retailer in the Eaton Centre. “It pays,” she explained.

I locked the door at six, closed out the cash, put the till in the safe, and was about to begin sweeping when I heard the knock.

Tap, tap. Pause. Tap.

My hands froze, but I didn’t look up until it sounded again.

I lifted my eyes. Felix was standing on the other side of the door, a toque pulled low over his ears. His breath left his mouth in misty puffs.

Before I met Carter, I had fantasies that started this way, with Felix showing up at the shop after hours. I imagined letting him inside and him kissing me before I had a chance to say hello. I’d bring him to the office and unzip his jeans and use my mouth to show him how much I wanted him.

I raised my hand, and Felix raised his, but I didn’t move. For untold seconds, all I did was stare. I didn’t think he’d come.

“It’s cold out, Lucy,” I heard him say through the glass, and I gave my head a shake.

We didn’t break eye contact as I crossed the store toward him. I’m not sure I even blinked. I unlocked the deadbolt and Felix stepped inside.

“You’re here,” I said.