Chapter 9

The doorbell rang as Ella finished changing into some loose sweats and a T-shirt. Darn it. She’d been looking forward to a quiet night alone. The new semester had kicked off yesterday, and it always took her a good week to get back into the routine of teaching. When she’d left campus, her plan had been stop at the toy store for Kerry’s birthday gift, and then watch a movie. Company, no matter who it was, put a kink in her agenda.

“Spill it. How’s it going?” Cat asked, walking into the kitchen after Ella opened the door. She didn’t even bother with a hello first.

Well, if she had to have a visitor she was glad it was Cat and not her mom. Cat wouldn’t stay all night. She’d want to get home and see Tony. Her mom, on the other hand, tended to linger whenever she visited, especially when Ella’s dad was away on business. Like he was this week.

“The semester only started yesterday. But it should be like always,” Ella answered as she rifled through the unopened mail she’d left on the table.

Ella’s answer earned her an eye roll. “Not the semester, you goose. How’s it going with my brother? I know he had a big weekend planned for you, but he didn’t say anything when he came to pick up Elvis on Sunday.”

“Who’s Elvis?” Ella asked, putting the mail on the table.

Cat went to the refrigerator and helped herself to a bottle of lemonade. “His dog. Didn’t he tell you? He adopted him in July.” Without pausing she filled a glass with ice and added the lemonade, making it impossible for Ella to answer. “He told Tony he bought tickets for the ballet. Almost died when Tony told me. Striker at the ballet? Never imagined he’d sit through a performance unless he had no other option. I know he loves you, but still I never expected that.”

Was Cat assuming Striker loved her, or had he told her? The last time they’d really spoken, Cat and her brother weren’t on the best of terms. “Did he tell you he loves me?” He’d said he loved her. It should be enough, but insecurities were getting the better of Ella this time around with him.

“Uh, yeah.” Cat’s expression said it all as she put her drink down. She considered Ella’s question a ridiculous one. “I’m starving. I came straight here from work. Do mind if I grab a snack?”

“Like you need to ask. Help yourself. There are some almonds covered with cocoa powder in the cabinet near the microwave. They’re delicious.” Ella waited until Cat returned with the nuts and an unopened bag of pretzels. “When did he tell you?” Pumping his sister, who also happened to be one of her best friends, wasn’t cool. Regardless, tonight the questions kept on slipping out.

“Before Mack’s wedding. You blew him off at the store. Not that I blame you. And he asked for my help.” Cat popped an almond into her mouth. “Mmm, you’re right. These are wicked good.” She took a few more before elaborating further. “I refused at first. He was a total jerk back in the spring. I didn’t want him hurting you again. But when he admitted he loved you, I promised to help.”

Ella thought back to the wedding. When Tony asked her to dance, she hadn’t thought it odd. Now, it seemed a little too convenient. “Tony asking me to dance and then Striker cutting in was planned,” she said, as more of a statement than question.

“Well….” Cat searched the can for the perfect almond rather than meet Ella’s eyes. “Yeah. We thought it’d be a good way to get you and him talking.” She looked up. “I know. It was a little sneaky. Sorry. But it turned out okay, right? You guys have been spending time together and having fun. He even took you to the ballet.”

She couldn’t disagree with Cat’s assessment. “He did plan a perfect weekend.”

“So does that mean the idiot’s managed to redeem himself? Are you back together? Tony said Striker seems happier since Mack’s wedding. Should I start planning a bachelorette party now?”

“Let’s hold off on any parties.” Every day her heart said forget about the past. Let Striker in all the way. This time it’ll last, you’ll see. Ella refused to listen only to her heart. She’d done so before, and Striker had smashed it into pieces. She’d promised him a month. No matter what emotions she felt or how many ballets he took her to, she’d make her final decision when the month ended and not before.

“Then he hasn’t redeemed himself. Why am I not surprised? He’s my brother and I love him, but sometimes he’s such an ass.” Cat sounded fed up.

“It’s not him.” Ella picked up the nuts so she could get a few. “Except for the stupid block party, which wasn’t his fault, he’s been wonderful. He brought me breakfast one morning. Sent me flowers. He calls every night. He took me to the MFA before the show Saturday. Heck, he got us a hotel room with two beds and stayed awake through the whole ballet.” She’d glanced over a few times, expecting to see him nodding off. But he’d been wide awake every time. He hadn’t complained once, either. His only comment was about how much time the dancers must need to put in.

“Two beds? Striker? Maybe we should take him for an MRI or something. What do you think?” Cat asked, smiling.

Ella laughed and nodded. “Maybe.”

“Well, if he’s turned into Mr. Perfect, what’s the problem?”

“Me.”

“You don’t love him?” Cat sounded both surprised and disappointed over the possibility.

“Of course I do. I’m just being more cautious this time.”

Cat stayed silent for a bit and munched on almonds while Ella opened the pretzels. She hadn’t eaten since lunch.

“Fair enough. But you’ve got nothing to worry about. He screwed up, and realizes it. Eventually he’ll do something stupid and upset you. He’s my brother, after all. But he won’t walk away from you again. Unless you kick him to the curb, you’re stuck with him.”

Her smartphone rang, Striker’s name coming up on the screen. She’d expected a call from him tonight.

“I’m leaving practice. Do you want some company?” he asked after she answered.

“Sure.” She’d left the university hoping for a quiet night alone. Right now, though, a night with Striker sounded much better.

“Do you want me to pick up some dinner? I haven’t eaten yet.”

She hadn’t decided on what she’d eat for dinner, and the almonds and pretzels she’d just had wouldn’t hold her over for long. “Sounds good. Surprise me.”

Across the table, Cat threw an I-told-you-so look. In return, Ella stuck her tongue out.

***

Not long after Striker adopted Elvis, he arranged to have his neighbor’s thirteen- year-old daughter, Bell, come by in the afternoon to take him for a walk so he didn’t have to wait for him. Actually, the girl’s mom had approached him a week or so after he brought the dog home, asking if he’d like Bell to walk Elvis after school. While Bell wanted to earn money, she had no interest in babysitting and wasn’t old enough to get a regular part-time job. But she loved dogs and already walked the family dog after getting off the bus. Striker had agreed, and so far the arrangement was working out well. Every day after school Bell let herself in and took his dog, as well as her own, for a walk. Afterward she made sure Elvis had plenty of water, locked his condo back up, and went home. He would’ve called and asked her to go over a second time today rather than go home and feed him before driving to Ella’s, but it was Wednesday, and Bell danced every Wednesday night.

Despite the full dog food bowl, Elvis followed him to the door. The dog enjoyed human companionship more than any other dog he’d ever met. Every night he sat next to him, his head resting on Striker’s thigh as he watched television. When Striker ate dinner, Elvis lay on the floor near Striker’s chair. And when Striker left for work in the morning, he stood at the window and watched him drive away.

“Won’t be long, Elvis,” Striker said, giving the dog a scratch behind the ears. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he regularly spoke to the dog as if he were a human.

Dark rain clouds filled the sky, making it appear much later than it was. The weather channel called for heavy rain throughout the night and not ending until sometime the following afternoon, which meant the football field would be a muddy mess Thursday. Practicing on a soggy field always created its own set of problems. Problems he’d worry about tomorrow. Tonight, he’d concentrate on furthering his progress with Ella.

“Striker!” Kerry, Ella’s young niece, shouted, and he turned. Before her mom could stop her, she took off down the walkway toward him. When she reached him, she lunged and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Sorry about the assault,” Claire, Ella’s sister, said, joining them.

Although they lived only a few condos down from him, he’d managed not to see Ella’s sister, brother-in-law, and niece much over the past several months. After how things had ended in the spring with Ella, he’d considered that a good thing. With Kerry’s little arms wrapped around him, he realized he’d missed her. She was always happy. He’d never seen her with anything but a smile on her face. When you were around her, it was impossible not to smile as well. Before the split, he and Ella had spent a lot of time with Kerry.

Striker ruffled Kerry’s hair. “Who wouldn’t want a hug from this one? She just made my day.” He noticed the pink dance bag she’d dropped during her sprint to him. “Did you have dance tonight?”

“Ballet. But not with Aunt Ella. She only teaches the big girls. Mom says when I get older, Aunt Ella can be my teacher. I can’t wait.” Kerry picked up her bag and slipped the strap onto her shoulder. “Do you wanna see my new ballet slippers? They’re pink like Auntie’s. Not black like my old ones.”

Before he answered she pulled the slippers from her bag and held them up for his inspection. “I bet they look great on you.”

“I’ll show you.” Kerry sat and reached for her right sneaker.

“Let’s not do that outside,” Claire said before her daughter got the sneaker off. “You can show him some other time. Put the ballet slippers away before they get dirty.” While Kerry reluctantly put her dance shoes back in her bag, Claire turned her attention to him. “How’s the arm? I heard what happened at the block party. Unbelievable.”

“Fine. The stiches are out.”

Kerry stood up, her ballet shoes once again safely in her dance bag. “I’m hungry.”

“Me, too. Let’s go see what we can have for a snack before bed.” Claire took her daughter’s hand. “Will I see you and Ella at the wedding Saturday?” she asked.

He thought Ella would’ve already told Claire they planned to go together. They tended to be close. “Yeah. We’ll be there.”

“Good. See you this weekend.”

He watched Claire and Kerry walk toward their condo. As they walked, Claire pulled her smartphone from her purse. Striker suspected she planned on calling her sister.

When he parked in front Ella’s house, Cat was just opening her car door. Rather than leave, as he would’ve preferred, she stood and waited for him.

“Nice job on Saturday. The ballet and a hotel room with two beds, I’m impressed,” she said when he reached her. “Maybe there’s hope for you.”

“Thanks. I’m so glad you approve.”

“Hey, watch it, or the next time you need a dogsitter you’ll need to find someone else.” Cat kissed his cheek. “Really, I mean it. I’m glad things are working out between you guys. See you later.”

Hearing things were going well from Cat was almost as good as hearing it from Ella. He just needed to make sure they stayed that way. The month was slipping away.

Ella greeted him with a brief kiss. “Italian. Perfect.” She took the take-out bags from Tuscany and set them down before giving him another kiss. This one was more intense than the first, but he still wanted more. “I’m glad you called. I missed you.”

Sounded like sitting through the ballet had been worth it. Before she moved away, he pulled her closer. “Missed you, too.” Lowering his head, he kissed her, letting his mouth show her just how much.

She leaned into him, her arms going around his neck. Her tongue met his and his heart hammered against his ribs. Striker slipped his hands over her ass and pulled her against him, groaning at the intimate contact. He wanted her naked and underneath him. If he didn’t stop soon he’d try for it. Despite the way she kissed him now, she wouldn’t appreciate it if he tore off her T-shirt.

It almost killed him, but he pulled his mouth from hers. Slowly, he trailed his hands back up toward her waist, a much safer place for them to be.

“I’ve really missed you,” she said softly, her eyes still closed and her breathing irregular.

He smiled. He’d never heard a better sentence.

Ella opened her eyes. “Have a seat. I’ll get some plates.”

Two stacks of mail sat on the kitchen table. He pushed the unopened stack across the table so he could take his usual seat. Or what had been his usual seat when he’d been a regular visitor. He picked up the opened group, intending to move it as well. The foreign address on the letterhead stopped him. “Université Paris Doophin,” he said, knowing he’d butchered the name. He’d never been good at foreign languages, and hadn’t touched French since high school. Even then he’d struggled through it, earning solid Cs every term.

She put two plates on the table and took the mail from his hand. “Université Paris Dauphine,” she said, correcting his pronunciation. “It’s where I taught over the summer.” She took the opened mail and moved it off to the side before saying, “I’m having some raspberry iced tea. Do you want some?”

“Water’s good for now.” He cut the lasagna and put half on her plate before opening the meatballs. “Looks like a long thank-you letter.” He finished adding a little of everything to her plate and started filling his own. He’d been hungry when he walked in, but the smells from the open containers had him all but drooling. “They must have loved you.”

Ella’s arm brushed against his when she set down his glass. The brief touch fed another hunger. A hunger he couldn’t satisfy tonight. “It’s not really a thank-you letter.”

His hand stopped and the lasagna balanced on his fork plopped onto his plate, sending pasta sauce into the air and onto his hand.

“Can I have some bread?” Ella asked, pointing toward the garlic rolls Tuscany always included in their take-out orders.

He wiped the sauce off his hand then passed the bag and waited for her to fill him in.

“Cat told me you have a dog. What kind is he?”

Despite a loaded plate, he didn’t dig in. “Mixed breed. You’ll love Elvis. He’s easygoing and friendly.” Striker watched her dip the bread in the pasta sauce. Maybe the letter was nothing. A standard form they sent to everyone after they took part in the professor exchange program.

Her tone suggested otherwise.

“Claire called right after we talked to tell me Kerry practically assaulted you in the parking lot.”

Striker cut into a meatball but didn’t eat it. “Yeah, I saw them as I was leaving. Kerry came at me like a missile. After she hugged me, she showed me her new ballet shoes. She was excited because they look like yours.”

“She really wants to be in my class. A few more years and she will be.”

“Is it a survey or something?” he asked, more interested in the letter than her niece.

Ella reached for her drink. “Is what a survey?”

“The letter from Paris.”

“No, but that’s not a bad idea. It’d give us a way to provide feedback to both schools. I’m surprised no one has thought of doing some type of survey or questionnaire. I think I’ll suggest it to Melanie on Monday. She’s the director of the exchange program here.” Ella sipped her tea before reaching for her fork. “Tuscany makes the best meatballs. I would’ve ordered the same things if I’d called them.”

Striker glanced back at the letter and wished he remembered more French. He recognized a few words, but not enough to make sense of it. He should just ask what it said, but technically it wasn’t any of his business. She didn’t read every piece of mail he got. His instincts told him it was something important. Something he wasn’t going to like. If not some standard thank-you letter or survey, what could the school want?

“It’s a letter begging you to come back, isn’t it?” He made the comment as more of a joke than anything, hoping she’d tell him what it said without him having to ask.

Ella stopped cutting her lasagna and left the fork on her plate. “Kind of. They want me to come back in January and teach for the year instead of a single semester.”

A knot formed in his stomach. Gone a year? Damn it. Striker shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth. His appetite was gone, but a mouthful kept him from saying anything stupid. Something he’d regret later.

She didn’t say she planned on going, he reminded himself, loading his fork up again. She might not want to go back. Ella’s family was here. And soon she’d have a new nephew. She wouldn’t want to miss spending time with him and Kerry.

“Are you going to do it?” he asked, when she didn’t offer up more details and he could no longer wait.

Ella picked up the letter and glanced over it as she bit down on her bottom lip. “It’s kind of a big deal. I don’t think anyone who’s taken part in the exchange program has ever gotten invited back like this. At least I’ve never heard anyone mention it happening.”

Big deal or not, he didn’t want her in another country for a year. He knew enough not to share his opinion until she asked. And she hadn’t asked. “Sounds like it. Are you going to do it?”

She exchanged the letter for her fork, but didn’t go back to eating. Instead, she pushed the food around. “I’m not sure.”

Better than a yes, he thought. But still not the answer he wanted.

“A year’s a long time to be away from everyone. And I wouldn’t be able to take over for Maryann at the dance studio.” She looked directly at him. “What do you think? Should I do it?”

He was the last person who should give her advice. “I want you to stay here.” She’d asked and he wouldn’t lie. “But if it’s what you want, do it. I’ll go apply for a passport this week, so I can visit. You’ll need to help me work on my French.”

He waited for Ella to remind him she’d agreed only to a month, and that he was getting ahead of himself. But she didn’t. Instead, she patted the top of his hand. “I’ve got the feeling you’d need more than just my help.” She winked at him and pulled her hand away. “The letter only came yesterday. I still need to think about it.”