Maggie was right, thought Richard. The weather was keeping people out of their shop. It was the sort of day when people went shopping for essential stuff, like food and petrol. Nice to have stuff, like antique paintings and collectable books. That can wait for a dry day.
Maggie had been gone over an hour to have lunch with Janet. He didn't mind being left alone, to be honest he was glad to have some time to himself to think things through concerning the future between him and Maggie.
He scrolled the internet looking for advice on how long should a man leave before he asked his girlfriend to marry him? To his annoyance there was no manual, no dummies guide to picking the right time.
He came out of Google and stared at his reflection in the screen. He was doing it again, trying to find everything neatly bundled up for him. But as he learnt to his cost with other potential girlfriends, there is no plug ‘n’ play relationship. The is no woman that comes pre-loaded with your history, your likes and dislikes, your expectations. In computing terms every person comes with a clean hard drive.
It's only from the moment you meet, you start to upload your files, your pictures, until eventually you both have a bank of information to call upon to share and talk about. That’s why he always found it awkward, talking on a first date. Neither of them had a point of reference from where to start. Richard wasn't one small talk.
He was feeling angry with himself again. Why didn’t his mother and father give him an older brother or sister. Someone he could watch and learn from, why did he have to find out all this relationship stuff for himself?
Why didn’t he stay behind at school for the after-hours clubs. Why didn’t he go to the youth clubs? Why did have to insist all the time that he was wanted at home, lame excuse after lame excuse only to play with his bloody toy soldiers. At sixteen he was still playing with his soldiers instead of honing his social skills with the opposite sex.
Now at the age of thirty-three he was still, metaphorically speaking, playing with his soldiers instead of building a relationship with Maggie. She was one in a million and deserved a gold medal for sticking with him, waiting for those bloody toy soldiers to go back in their box.
He couldn’t give her a gold medal, but he could give her the next best thing, a gold ring. Richard fumbled in the drawer until his hand touched the small tatty red velvet box. He brought it out and open the lid, Great Aunt Roses wedding ring. He’d get Maggie her own one day, but this was his symbol of commitment towards her and he had every intension of presenting it to her during their week in Florence.
He was so engrossed with his thoughts that he almost missed hearing bell ring above the door. From the other side of the shop he watched Maggie’s umbrella come through the door first. He quickly pushed the ring box back into the draw.
He looked up in time to see her beaming smile and hear her cheerful voice announce,
“Hi honey, I’m home.”
YOU ARE READING
Artful Dream
RomantizmMaggie Harris and Richard Maple are two thirtysomething antique dealers from London, who have been forced by financial problems, to join their two businesses. That was over a year ago and things are now on the up. Maggie is in love with Richard and...
