Snowdrop Kisses Part Thirteen
A Christmas love story featuring a plucky florist and a tall dark and handsome entrepreneur
Previously… in Part 12 Harry, Minna, James and Wendy leave the National Gallery and Wendy invites Isaiah out on a date.
Chapter 25
“It’s not that funny, Vivienne.”
Wendy’s assistant snorted so forcefully that Diet Coke dribbled out of her nose. “Oo, it’s burning.” She clasped her face in pain.
“It serves you right.” Wendy stared at herself in the mirror. “I’m a friend in need, here. You’re supposed to be helping me find something.”
Vivienne dabbed at her nose with a tissue, and started to laugh again. “I can’t help it. You look like Wilma Flintstone. All you need is a bone in your hair.”
Wendy looked down at the dress. Short, white and tight, with one exposed shoulder, its hem was shredded like it had recently been ripped apart by a rampaging T-Rex.
“I give up,” she sighed. “I can’t find anything that I can afford and can wear to that stupid club. I’m going to go home and call Isaiah. I’ll tell him that something’s come up at the store.” She returned to the changing room and began the arduous job of wriggling out of the clingy dress.
Vivienne harangued her from the other side of the curtain. “You’re making the right decision. Participating in the heteronormative mating ritual is an insult to womankind. Much better to stay celibate, the way you have for years.”
“Stop shouting,” hissed Wendy from the changing room. “I don’t need the entire Rideau Centre knowing that I’m experiencing a dry spell.”
“Dry spell?” Now Vivienne’s tone changed, “What you’ve been going through isn’t some Day-Old-Baguette dry spell, it’s not some Itchy-Winter-Skin dry spell, it’s not the I-Forgot-to-Deep-Condition-My-Hair dry spell. No, we’re talking the Saha--“
“Yes, thanks, I get the picture.” Wendy emerged from the changing room. “I thought staying away from men was the key to dismantling the patriarchy.”
Vivienne took the dress from her and hung it on the rack. “I have a libido like anyone else, and men are very useful for satisfying my sexual needs. I just don’t tie my emotional or financial well-being to them.”
Vivienne was incredibly smug, but maybe she had a point. If Wendy could disentangler her messy feelings from her desires, she might be able to handle her insane attraction to Crofton.
The Rideau Centre was brimming with people hurrying to finish their Christmas shopping. Teenagers loitered, harried mothers wheeled babies in strollers and well-dressed office-workers rushed past, all to the relentless sound of Mariah Carey’s Christmas album.
“It’s nearly nine o’clock, and I haven’t found one thing I could wear tomorrow night. I really think it’s a cosmic sign that I’m meant to back out.” Wendy couldn’t hide the hopeful note in her voice, and Vivienne picked up on it.
“Nope. Instead, we’re taking emergency measures. First, we need sugar, fat and calories.” Tugging on Wendy’s arm, Vivienne marched her to the nearby Laura Secord chocolate shop. “We’re going to need two of your biggest gingerbread ice-creams. If you’ve got whipped cream we’re going to need that too. Also, warm caramel sauce. We need everything you’ve got.” The girl blinked at Vivienne’s commanding style, but set to work.
Clutching their enormous sundaes, the women sat at one of the café’s small tables. “I just don’t think I want to experience Chronic Pain.”
Vivienne shook her head. “No, it’s that you don’t want to go with Isaiah. If James Crofton were taking you, you’d be thrilled.”
Wendy glowered, but couldn’t deny it. “I’ve got this weird crush on the man, and I can’t shake it.”
“You should try harder. He’s a sleazy womanizer.”
Wendy bristled. “He’s not sleazy. He’s charming and funny and smart…”
“Come on, he’s one of these alpha males. I’ve seen the bouquets he sends to those women.” Vivienne put down her spoon and shook her finger at Wendy. “From what you told me about your ex, he was a rat-bastard who fooled around with everything on two legs. You have a habit of going for gross male sluts.”
Vivienne’s bluntness was usually refreshing, though now Wendy found it annoying. “He’s nothing like Martin, besides I’m older now and surer of myself. I’m not repeating the pattern.”
“Will you listen to yourself? Of course you don’t think you’re repeating the pattern, that’s how you’re able to repeat it. Don’t be a Khloe Kardashian, Wendy.”
Wendy sighed. “I know, I know. You’re right. You’re always right. I’ve got to forget about Crofton, and give Isaiah a chance.”
“That’s right, honey.” Vivienne waved her spoon. “Cheers to no longer dating assholes”
Wendy smiled, and touched her spoon to Vivienne’s. “Cheers.”
“Alright, so let’s get you looking fabulous for tomorrow night. We’re going to ditch the mall and head back to my place. I’m sure I’ve got something amazing for you in my closet.”
Wendy stood. “Lead the way. I’m in your hands.”
Can you believe we’re at the half way point?
What’s going to happen at Chronic Pain? Will James and Wendy share a moonlit dance at the LCC Christmas Gala? Should the sequel be about Vivienne’s passionate love affair with a strapping Dutch tulip cultivator?
I’ve created a little questionnaire and would be super appreciative if you took the time to tell me how things are going — it’s only five questions!
Chapter 26
The next evening, under the harsh lights of Love's Bouquet’s back room, Wendy was less sure about Vivienne’s judgment.
She was wearing a tight silver tank top that Vivienne had dug out from the back of her closet. “You can keep it,” her friend said. “I could never find a bra that worked. You’re so flat it won’t be an issue.”
“Thanks,” Wendy said sourly.
Vivienne paired the top with a shiny pleather micro-mini. Luckily, Wendy was much shorter so the skirt came down to a more respectable mid thigh on her. To complete the outfit, Wendy wore Vivienne’s knee-high, patent leather boots with four-inch spike heels. When Wendy questioned how Vivienne could own such torture devices and call herself a feminist, Vivienne explained they made her ass look amazing, and feminism could encompass a hot butt.
Standing in the safety of Vivienne’s bedroom, swigging enormous amounts of wine, Wendy was confident she could pull the outfit off. Now, she had serious doubts. She tugged at her short hemline. Already her toes were pinched, and her whole posture pitched forward at an odd angle to try to accommodate the stupid heels.
It was ten to seven. Might as well go out and get Vivienne’s reaction. She tottered out into the store. Thankfully there were no customers. Vivienne was misting the ferns by the window.
“I’m leaving now. You’ve got everything you need to lock up, right?”
Vivienne gave her an appraising stare and then came over to fluff up her hair, making it even bigger. “There,” she said. “You’ll almost fit in at Chronic Pain, although you should really try to hike up the skirt a bit. Show more leg.”
“If I hike up this skirt any more, I’ll be eligible for a pap smear.”
Before Vivienne could respond, Isaiah was at the door.
Wearing jeans riding low over his hips, and a black leather jacket, he looked good. He whistled when he saw her. “You’re smoking.”
“Thanks.” Wendy straightened her shoulders. This date had been a good idea. Just the ego boost she needed. She wobbled forward nearly falling into Isaiah’s arms. He grabbed her hand to steady her.
Just then, Harry pushed the store’s door open. The older man looked better than he had in a while. The greyness was gone from his face and his eyes were alert.
“Sorry, Harry. We’re on our way out. Vivienne can help you, though.”
The affable look vanished from the older man’s face. “Who’s this?” he jutted his chin at Isaiah.
Wendy was surprised by Harry’s aggressive tone, though the older man was not known for his social graces. She performed the introductions. “We’re going out to dinner and then to a club.”
“Where?” Harry asked with an odd note of urgency.
“It’s called Chronic Pain. It’s in the Market.”
Harry furrowed his brow. “I know it. There’s a whiskey bar across the street. I’ve been there before. Do you like whiskey, Wendy?”
She thought whisky tasted like burning cat urine, but before she could articulate a diplomatic answer, Isaiah interjected. “We could check it out after the show, but we’d better leave now or we’ll be late for our dinner reservation.”
With a quick goodbye to Harry and Vivienne, Wendy set out on her date.
Not already a subscriber?