Will Be Yours Ch. 02

"Are you hungry?" she asked, glancing up and down the inviting building, "This is a nice Chinese restaurant. Their Szechuan chicken and pork fried rice is a great platter."

"Now I'm hungry," he smiled, "I love Chinese food. Shall we go in?"

So in they went. Luke was surprised at how big the restaurant was, although it didn't seem so from outside. Luke inhaled and licked his lips at the exotic aromas emanating from the place. When they were seated, a waiter came to take their orders and she confirmed with him again and asked for Szechuan chicken and pork fried rice. It was already late afternoon and the sun was about to set in a while.

"Carrie was saying that you have a number of nieces and nephews," she smiled, folding her arms on the table. "Tell me about them."

Affection washed over his face. "I have six siblings," he said, "Three brothers, three sisters. We have eight children right now. Five nephews and three nieces." He smiled. "We're a big family."

"I like that," she said, "You're the youngest?"

"Yes. And pampered. My eldest brother is 15 years older than me. It helped to have such older brothers. No one in school dared to bully me!"

They laughed, probably the loudest he'd ever seen her laugh yet. She had nice teeth too. And the amazing thing was that she was disarmingly unaware of her beauty. In her simplicity, she was striking. From the little he had seen of her, she seemed an easy person to get along with. She was kind and courteous towards people, helping those around her to relax and be happy with what they had. In her company, he felt warm, as if he'd been bathed in summer rays, regardless of the season.

A delectable aroma filled their sense when the food arrived. The scented rice was heavenly and the chicken looked palatable. Luke noticed she was a small eater because she took just a little more than one-fourth of the rice on the large plate in the middle, leaving the rest for him. Or was she not hungry? Did he make her nervous?

"You look close to Jake and Josh," he said while they enjoyed their meal, "Have they grown more mischievous?"

"Just hang around for a little longer," she chuckled, "You'll know."

He laughed, cutting a piece of chicken with the fork. "When Josh was small," he said, "about a year or two, he had this weird fascination for worms. He used to crawl on the lawn outside their quarters, pick up worms of all kinds, and force Scott to eat them!"

She almost choked on her food. "Seriously? That's disgusting! I didn't know he was such a feral baby."

"Oh, I have more such stories about them. Some of them they wouldn't even remember. Just wait till I take the mickey out of them."

"We've got many kids in the neighbourhood," she laughed, gently moving the empty plate aside, "But these two certainly take the cake."

Her phone rang just then and she excused herself before fishing her cellphone out of her bag.

"Hi Carrie," she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Luke leaned back in the chair and watched her as she talked. But her face gradually turned serious, and then lacklustre.

"I can't do this," she pressed her lips together and breathed through the nose. He watched her hand as she fiercely grabbed a hapless napkin, trying her best to not lose control. Then she closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling faster now.

"Carrie, I'm not going," she insisted, her voice rising. She was now crushing the napkin. Luke sat up straight, worried.

"I said I'm not going!" her voice rose and then fell, like a flash of lightning. She disconnected the call and hung her head low, her breaths coming in short, quick bursts. Luke hesitated to say anything, afraid of troubling her further.

When she looked up, her face looked tired. Finally letting go of the crushed napkin, she apologetically gazed at him.

"Will you excuse me for a minute?" she murmured, her voice trembling, "I think I—"

Before he could even come up with a response, she had left her seat and rushed off in the direction of the washrooms in the far end of the restaurant. Luke remained put in his seat. As worried as he felt, he couldn't follow her into a ladies restroom. So he waited. One minute turned two. Then five. And then ten. Impatient, he called the waiter, paid the bill, and had just risen from the chair, when he found her walking back. Something seemed to collapse inside him when he saw her sad face.

"I'm sorry," she said in a broken voice when she was close enough, "I—"

"Are you okay?" he gently held her and studied her face. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy, her cheeks were dark. She had clearly been crying in the loo.

"I'm fine," she nodded, although she looked far from it, "The bill—"

"I've paid it," he said, giving her some water, "What's wrong? Are you feeling alright?"

"I am." She took two sips and kept the glass back on the table. "Can we go home?"

"You're not fit to drive. Give me the keys."

"Luke—"

"Give me the keys, Cynthia. I'm not letting you drive in this condition."

He had no clue what Carrie had said that made her upset but he knew better than to let her drive when her hands just wouldn't stop trembling.

Without arguing anymore, she looked inside her bag for her car keys and placed them on his open palm. Luke held her hand as they left the restaurant, not because it felt good to hold her but because she looked like she'd break down right there.

"You don't look good to me," he said while he drove her home. It was evening and a slight drizzle had begun. "Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to call Scott?"

"No." She sank back in the seat and closed her eyes. "Why don't you head to your hotel first? I can drive back home."

"I told you I'm not letting you drive like this." He gave her one of his stern looks. "Why don't you try to relax? I promise I'm not going to ruin your car."

She seemed to remember something. She reached for her phone and made a call.

"Becky, have the flowers arrived?" she asked and it made him smile. She never forgot to take care of things that were important. "Alright, listen, I'm going to take the rest of the day off if that's okay with you. I don't feel too good. No, I'll be okay. You don't have to come over." She paused and breathed. "Thanks, hun. See you tomorrow."

When they entered the familiar lane of her neighbourhood, she pointed out her house and asked him to stop. Then he looked at his face and gave a small smile.

"Thank you," she said, "Take the car. You can return it later."

"It's okay, Cyn. I'm going to take a taxi."

It was a slip. He had heard Scott calling her Cindy affectionately, and the others calling her Cyn. But it was really accidental on his part. He didn't know her well enough to call her that. Or did he?

"You have to walk all the way to the main street for a taxi," she shook her head. "Please take the car."

"Relax, okay?" He got out of the car like the seat was on fire. Then he held the door open for her. "I can walk all the way to the hotel if necessary. But I'm more concerned about you."

"I'll be fine." Disappointment shone on her face. "I'm sorry about this. The day wasn't meant to end this way."

"Oh, come on, I had fun," he smiled, "The day was great."

"Take this at least." She grabbed a big umbrella from the backseat and handed it to him. "It's unpredictable here. You never know when the drizzle turns into a downpour. And you've to walk quite a few metres."

He could let her do that much for him. Luke gratefully took the umbrella and saw her to the door of her little cottage-like house. He even gave her a light goodnight kiss on the cheek. Then he started walking, holding the open umbrella above his head. It hadn't been like that with him in years. With Diana gone, he'd closed himself to the world, convinced that there never could be anybody else. All of those nights when he'd returned home from his failed dates, he burned in guilt for days after. Not because the aftermath was still too raw, but because he didn't believe someone else could fill the void in his life. So why was he even trying?

He felt a spark of attraction to Cynthia, reminding him of what he once had. And he hadn't even tried. That night after he returned from Scott's place, he'd waited for the guilt and self-reproach to come back. But they never came. Instead, it felt okay. It felt good. It meant he had finally healed.

He hailed a passing taxi and hopped in, folding the wet umbrella. Giving instructions to the driver, he leaned back in the seat and gazed out of the window. Cynthia was younger than him and more reserved than Diana had been. But it pained him to see her sad, the same way it'd have pained him to see Diana sad. What had Carrie said that made her so upset? He was not going to ask any question, though. He didn't know her well and she was entitled to her privacy. But he also knew that he wanted to know her better.

Luke measured the umbrella in his hand, a jubilant smile breaking out on his face. He knew he had to call his eldest sister to thank her when he reached the lodge. She had convinced him to make this trip. And he already felt it was the best thing he'd done in a long time.

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