Malcolm
The remodeling project takes up much of my time. When I’m not busy hanging out on my porch with Harold, and now sometimes Cordelia, I’m at work moving boxes of books. Harold, Cordelia, and I have started having iced tea as we watch the sun set together. We’re forming some sort of weird little unconventional family, but I won’t complain about that.
I still don’t know why Cordelia came to Perfection. It bothers me a little bit, I realize as I’m carrying boxes of books around. I start shelving a set of mystery novels. It shouldn’t bother me. We all have our secrets, and maybe her reason for moving is hers, but there’s something that makes her nervous. I can tell.
I’ve taken to prowling around her house before I go to sleep each night. It’s creepy and weird, and almost stalkerish, but I don’t see it that way. The way I see it, she’s a shifter and she might be in trouble. Checking her house for intruders is the least I can do.
“Hey,” Marcy interrupts my thoughts. “There’s someone here to see you.” She elbows me with a grin and then points. I look over the balcony, down to the first floor, and see Cordelia standing by the Information Desk. She’s wearing a blue dress with black flats, and her hair is down. She looks lovely and perfect.
“How do you know she’s here for me?” I ask, not ready to admit anything to Marcy. The old woman is too much of a gossip for her own good, but she just chuckles.
“Go on now,” Marcy says. “She won’t wait forever.”
I set the books down and go down the stairs to the first floor. As I approach Cordelia, she turns and looks at me.
“Hey,” she says with a smile. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Really?” I ask, looking up at Marcy, who is peeking over the balcony. Is she trying to be sneaky? She’s failing miserably. “My co-worker told me you were looking for me.”
Cordelia chuckles. “I know. I’m just messing with you. I came to see if you wanted to get lunch with me.”
“Oh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s this coming from? We’ve never met for lunch before.”
“I know,” she says with a shrug. “But you’ve been so helpful with the move and me getting settled and everything, I…” Her voice trails off, and she blushes a little bit. “I kind of just wanted to, you know, thank you. Pay you back a little bit.”
“With lunch?”
“With a delicious, super-amazing lunch at the best burrito place in town,” she clarifies.
“You had me at ‘burrito,’” I tell her honestly. “Hey Marcy,” I look up at my boss just as she ducks behind a pile of books. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Shhh,” an older librarian hisses at me. She points to a sign that says, “Quiet, please.”
“Sorry, Cindy,” I say, just as loudly.
“Sorry, Cindy,” Cordelia echoes me, but doesn’t look as the older woman throws up her hands in frustration. Yeah, my coworkers take their codes of honor as librarian quite seriously. Me, though? I’m too busy looking at Cordelia to even really notice them.
Cordelia looks perfect, and I’m beyond thrilled she hunted me down to invite me to lunch. I’m not one of those guys who doesn’t think a woman can’t be the one to initiate things. No, I love knowing that she’s comfortable enough to ask me out.
We leave the library and she jerks her head toward her car.
“We can drive,” she starts. “But it’s a pretty nice day.”
“I’m happy to walk.”
I hold out my arm dramatically, and she takes it, giggling a little.
The two of us walk arm-in-arm to the most delicious burrito place in town. We order. Then we take our food to a table in the corner and sit down to eat and talk.
“I’m glad you came to see me today,” I tell her honestly.
“Well, you know,” she shrugs. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together on our porches. Seems like it’s as good a time as any to take things to the next step.”
“Lunch is the next step?”
“Lunch,” she agrees. “Sorry if that’s kind of weird. I’m a little slow-moving when it comes to relationships. You know, in case you couldn’t tell.”
“So this is a relationship?”
She blushes, and I smile.
“I…I mean, I thought…”
“I’m teasing you,” I reach for her hand across the table. “I like you, Cordelia. A lot. I think you like me, too.”
“I do.”
“The moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you.”
Mates. She’s our mate.
“I felt the same way,” she cocks her head a little. “Isn’t that funny?”
“Perhaps,” I say, but my voice trails off. I don’t want to say we’re mates. Not just yet. I don’t want to scare her. Cordelia has obviously been through something traumatic or difficult and she’s slowly getting her life back together. She’s reclaiming her life and her future, and if she needs time to do that? I’m fine with that. I’m fine waiting. I can be patient. We have all of eternity.
Her phone beeps and she reaches for it.
“Sorry,” she shakes her head.
“Work?” I say sympathetically. Cordelia got a job as a receptionist. From what I can tell, she loves it a lot. She’s done receptionist work in the past and although a lot of people don’t appreciate it, she enjoys what she does. She gets to meet a lot of new people, learn about new topics, and help people around her.
“No,” she shakes her head. “Just a weird notification. I keep getting them. Guess I have a bug or something. I need to run a cleaner on my phone, you know.”
“I have to do that sometimes, too. It’s crazy how many apps can cause problems, you know?”
“Guess it’s the price we pay for technology.”
“How’s the burrito?” I nod toward her food. It’s almost completely gone.
“Amazing.”
“For a swan shifter, you sure know how to eat.”
“Hey,” she protests. “How do you know I’m a swan?”
Oops.
Confession time, I suppose.
“I may have seen you flying some evenings.”
“And you weren’t going to tell me?” She chuckles. “I don’t even know what type of shifter you are.”
“I’m a goose,” I tell her.
“Is that right?”
“Yep.”
“Wait! I’ve seen a goose on my flights a few times.”
Now it’s my turn to blush.
“Guilty,” I raise my hand. “I couldn’t resist the chance to fly with you, even just a little.”
“I wasn’t sure if that goose was a shifter or not,” she tells me honestly. “But I kind of like knowing we’ve flown together.”
“It’s not weird?”
“Not really. I’ve flown with many other birds before. Why would this be any different?”
Because we’re mates.
Because we’re supposed to be together.
Because I want to pull you in my arms and kiss you again, and I can’t because it’s not time yet.
“I suppose it’s not,” I tell her, taking a sip of my drink.
“Are you ever uncomfortable with what you are?” Cordelia asks suddenly.
“What do you mean?”
“With being a goose, I mean. It’s not very common. Do you ever feel embarrassed or kind of anxious? Like, do you ever wish you were a wolf or a bear?”
“You know, for a long time I did. When I first learned to shift, I was surprised I wasn’t something bigger or more impressive. No one really gets scared of a goose, but then I realize that was kind of a good thing. Nobody gets scared of a goose. This means that it’s easy for me to sneak around and blend in. No one really thinks of geese as possible shifters. I can overhear conversations easily and I can get into small places bigger shifters can’t always go. Besides, I can fly.”
“I like flying,” she admits. “It’s kind of my favorite part about the whole shifter thing.”
“Me too.”
“When I’m flying,” she says wistfully. “The world seems right.”
“I know the feeling. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to shift and change. I wanted to go places and to travel. When I finally learned how to shift, I was able to explore the world a little more, all thanks to the fact that I have wings. If I’d been a different type of shifter, I don’t think I’d have gotten those opportunities.”
“We’re definitely lucky in many ways,” Cordelia agrees.
We chat for awhile longer about Perfection, about work, and about Hector. Soon, though, it’s time for me to get back to work, and we reluctantly leave the restaurant. We walk hand-in-hand back to the library. I try not to think about how perfect her hand feels in mine or how I never want to let her go.
When we reach the library, Cordelia turns to me.
“I had a lovely time,” she tells me.
“Thanks for inviting me.”
“Anytime. Hopefully we can do it again soon.”
“Cordelia, I…”
Then she surprises me.
Cordelia pulls me toward her and kisses me softly, gently. She slides her tongue into my mouth, carefully exploring, and her hands are firmly on my shirt.
I stay as still as possible. I don’t want to ruin this moment. I don’t want anything to happen to make this end. Instead, I just wait and let her touch me as much as she likes. When she pulls away, it feels like it’s too soon. I could kiss Cordelia forever if she’d let me.
“Until next time,” she says, and then she’s gone.