The Dragon and the Dove

Chapter 4

The entire first week living in the condo I felt at peace and content in a way I had no memory of ever feeling.

Callum and I did go to Ikea together. It was an uneventful and hilarious experience. Callum was fascinated, horrified, and impressed. He had an odd amount of enthusiasm for walking through every room vignette, and the trip took hours.

I came out with a little white desk, some other small office supplies, bedding, towels, and a few other essentials I hadn't taken the time to pack. And a cinnamon bun, because it was fall and they smelt amazing. Callum and I ended up sharing it, sitting at one of the little tables by the cafe, pulling pieces off with a full trolley beside us. Callum left with fake plants, of all things, wooden tiles for the balcony, and a little outdoor bistro set.

I eyed the fake plants while Callum loaded his purchases into the elevator when we get back to the condo.

"Ok, what's with the rubber greenery?"

Callum looked up from where he'd set down a box of his balcony tiles, eyebrows raised and a half smile, half frown playing at one corner of his mouth. Was that a sheepish look?

"I like the feel plants give to a space. But... I have a total brown thumb. Everything I try to grow just gets scorched. Usually the rubber stuff is tacky... but these aren't half bad."

"So, is that what's up with the bouquet of flower by the front door then? It looks like a new bouquet from last week. Do you buy one every week?"

"You noticed that? since I can't keep anything alive I have a weekly order set up with a local florist. Believe it or not, I can't even take care of a bouquet."

I chuckled, but Callum concentrated very intently on the box he was moving. When I caught another glimpse of his face he looked a little sad.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of the plants. I don't have a green thumb, really. But my father always had a vegetable garden in the summer. I can help grow a tomato. Maybe I can keep a few house plants alive."

"It's a deal."

Sunday I spent puttering and settling in. I built my desk, and got my office space organized. Emptying my suitcases, which filled only a part of the palatial closet, took me less than an hour. I washed the sheets and towels I had purchased, and took my first long, hot shower in the spa like bathroom. I went for a walk, found the nearest grocery store, and stocked the fridge and cupboards.Throughout the day Callum seemed to drift between his office and the living room, where I'd find him stretched out on the end of the couch nearest the fire with a book in his hand. There was something about the way he basked in front of the fire that reminded me of a lizard sunning itself on a rock.

We hadn't decided on any plan for meals, though we had decided on a "you finish it, you replace it" policy for groceries. By the evening I was tired out but satisfied. I had the content feeling of knowing a had everything I needed and everything where I needed it to be.

For the first time in a long while I was completely in control. I was happy, and hungry, so I wandered into the kitchen and stood with the cupboard and fridge open for a moment. I gravitated towards familiar and easy comfort food. Pasta, garlic, bacon, parmesan. Callum emerged from his office when he smelt the bacon and garlic frying. l pulled out more spaghetti. He pulled a bottle of white wine out of a wine fridge I hadn't realized we had, and we ended up eating together.

"I have a feeling I'm going to end up taking advantage of your cooking too much. Don't let me. This is delicious."

Callum smiled at me, a fork full of spaghetti half way to his mouth.

"I've never been good at making an effort to cook for myself."

"I don't mind. Food should be about joy. And there's more joy when you have someone to eat with."

"Cheers to that."

We clinked glasses, and chatted while we ate spaghetti, talking about our plans for the week.

~*~

My first Monday in the condo dawned clear and crisp. I got out of bed slowly and made my way to my yoga mat, working through a morning routine in front of the window. My room didn't have a view of the park, but still had a beautiful view of the city. Clouds scuttled by in an inky sky, with a tinge of pink starting to bleed out from behind the city skyline. I breathed it all in, feeling emmense gratitude.

My sleep, for once, had been dreamless and restfull. I had a day of contractor meetings, hard labour, and getting to know my neighbors planned, and I could not have been more excited.

I ate breakfast in the morning quiet, in front the fireplace with my bowl of muesli sitting in my lap, and my eyes glued on the window. I knew not to expect to see Callum before I left for the day. I had discovered over the weekend, and from chatting the night before, that he was an early riser only under great duress. He opened his antique shop an hour later than all the other stores in his area so that he could sleep in. After eating I threw on clean, though paint splotched, work clothes and was out the door just as the sun was starting to rise properly.

My first stop was the coffee shop down the street from the gym. It was located in another old brick building, this one made of faded yellow bricks I hadn't seen very many places. The retail store beside it was boarded up. I pushed open the indigo door, and the earthy aroma of freshly ground coffee enveloped me. There was one other person in the shop: a man about my own age, with black hair, a black collared shirt, pale skin, and an unfortunate mustache. He was reading something on his phone, scowling and shaking his head. He didn't even look up when I walked in. Though I was reveling in appreciation and gratitude for my new found freedom, I was still feeling twitchy and cautious outside the condo. And a few weeks of freedom wasn't going to undo a lifetime of being taught to scan a room as I entered.

A woman was standing behind a sunflower yellow counter with a rich toned, wooden top. She had tight black curls and a big, sweet smile.

"Good morning, welcome to Earth and Water. This your first time here?"

Her voice was lilting and musical, and her words had the slightly elongated vowels of a French accent.

"Hi, I'm Em."

I stuck out my hand, smiling, and the woman behind the counter shook it, but looked a bit confused.

"Its my first time in - I bought the old boxing gym down the street. I wanted to come in and introduce myself... And get coffee."

"Oh! I'm Sita. I own this place. Nice to meet you. What can I get you?"

"Cafe Latte please."

"So, you gonna keep it as a gym?"

Sita stood behind the coffee machine making my latte, and we chatted about my plans for the gym. She seemed friendly, and open, and excited about my plans for the gym, which was gratifying. Latte in hand I promised I would be in most mornings, and left for another meeting with my contractor.

The rest of my week flew by. Every day had a similar pattern to that first morning, except that I took extra time to sit and chat with Sita until her morning rush hit. I spent my days working at the gym, and evenings reading by the fire. Callum and I seemed to keep missing each other, and it made the condo feel a bit lonely. But by the end of the week I had a logo and brand colours for the gym finalized, a plan for the renovations completed and at the city for permitting, and a list of projects I was going to tackle on my own. When Friday night rolled around I was exhausted. After a quick dinner I sat on the floor in the living room with the fire going, stretching and reading a book, with a cup of hot chocolate steaming beside me. Callum was out at some auction function, and everything felt still and silent. Looking out over the park, and watching the rain drip down the windows, I felt absolutely on top of the world.