“Then get out of here. Go relax, and enjoy the sea air. I find it’s a cure-all like no other.”
“You’re the boss, Boss.”
With the GPS on his iPhone to guide him should he get lost, Jerry just let his feet lead him out of the station and take him wherever they wanted. He eventually found himself strolling along Victoria’s Inner Harbour with only a trace of the headache remaining. Seeing all of the Christmas decorations on shop fronts and vessels in port, Jerry decided he’d better make it up to his new staff. He called Manny.
“Jerr! Miss us already? Ready to start work?”
Jerry chuckled. “Yes and almost. There’s one thing I’d like to do first and that’s have everyone over to the loft for a Christmas gathering.”
“Great idea. When?”
“Well, tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Would that be too short of notice? I just want sort of a drop-in gathering so people can do what they want with their families earlier and then swing by for a bite to eat or a cocktail, and chat for a bit.”
“I like it. Want help?”
“That’s why I was calling. How would Carmella feel about being my right-hand-lady on this? She knows the people and the city. I don’t want her doing the work, just being the voice in my ear that says ‘yay’ or ‘nay’.”
“She’d love it! She loves nothing better than planning and executing a party, Jerr, especially on short notice. She just left the office so I’ll text her and have her give you a call.”
“Thanks, Manny. I’ll send out an email telling everyone when and where as soon as we hang up.”
“Then go, do.”
Jerry sent out the email to his list of station staff and ten minutes later Carmella called.
“Jerry, dear, I hear we’re planning a party.”
“Just a casual gathering, Carmella. You don’t mind giving me a hand?”
“Don’t tell Manny this, but I’m tired of shopping for presents and this is the perfect little break I need. Besides, I think it’s a great idea. We had a staff party last week but it was a sit-down dinner and we were missing our handsome new station manager with the voice made for radio. We need a relaxed, mingly-thing to start the Christmas week off.”
“Just a simple thing. You know the staff and you know where to find supplies, so I’m in desperate need of a wing-man, or wing-woman as the case may be.”
“Then I’m your girl.”
In five minutes Jerry sketched out what he needed and in another five the two of them had the simple gathering all planned out.
“Jerry, you go home and finish unpacking and settling in. Get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll be at your door bright and early at nine so we can hit the markets early.”
“Nine it is, Carmella. Thanks.”
THE FRESH SEA air eventually shoved the headache away and Jerry let his iPhone guide him back to the loft. He tossed together a simple salad, then spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening unpacking, replying to emails and texts, tweeting a few words of wit and wisdom, and checking the spelling of his pre-written blog post before letting it go live. He scribbled down a couple ideas for future posts, and then went to bed early.
Between the effects of the sea air and finding renewed hope in this far off place, Jerry slipped into a deep sleep so quickly that at first he didn’t realize he was dreaming when the hazy, see-through girl appeared and sat on the foot of his bed. She didn’t say anything, but while her smile was welcoming, her eyes seemed confused and maybe a little lost. He smiled, waved, and fell deeper into sleep, where the dreams rarely followed.
THE DARKNESS PARTED and she stepped through the gap into her dream. The blurry flat was still and dark but for the light on the small fish tank. The little fish wiggled at her as she drifted around trying to focus on things and not succeeding. It was a small space, but quite well furnished if her eyes were to be trusted. Once again, it was an unusually calm place for a dream. Until recently her dreams involved screams, shouts, gunfire, and blood, but in this dream she could not, in fact, hear anything at all. Was she deaf here? Or was this a dream world of no sound?
She drifted around, exploring the room, and came across a young man in bed behind a lovely ornate dressing screen. She stopped for a closer look, but couldn’t see his face clearly enough to know whether it was the same man from other dreams. The fact that the fish was in this dream as well suggested that this was the same man. The darkness beckoned once again so she let her world draw her back in.
JERRY LOOKED AROUND the loft at the first party he’d hosted in a couple years. The gathering was perfect, and if Carmella were twenty years younger and single, Jerry would have fallen head-over-heels in love with her. She was funny, smart, and made Jerry feel like he’d lived in Victoria his whole life and she, Manny, and he had always been life-long friends. Manny was a lucky SOB, Jerry thought as he watched Carmella blush when one of his new staff complimented her on the pastries she’d whipped up in Jerry’s kitchen that afternoon. He looked around the loft at the smiles and camaraderie and realized that it was about time he surrounded himself with some positive, healthy relationships.
Jerry had sort of expected staff to drop in for a half-hour or so and then drift off to do what they’d first planned for the holy night, but most of them were there by seven and—Jerry checked his watch—at eleven o’clock there were still eighteen people there, all laughing and joking like a functional family who actually enjoyed each other’s company.
Dean Martin’s 1966 Christmas Album played softly in the background, some of Jerry’s new staff chatted next to the Christmas tree, some hung out near the desk where his laptop sat folded next to a lava lamp, Sushi’s hexagonal tank, and a few of Jerry’s photos and sketches of St. Marys. On the mantle sat a framed photo of Isis on which she’d written “To Jerry. Always and Forever, Love Isis” and two of the younger women on the team were laughing kindly and examining the photo and the attached lock of hair taped to the frame. Jerry looked up from the couch and saw them, and for the first time in a long time didn’t feel the need to defend his life to anyone. These people were just curious about their new boss.
Turning back to the conversation, Jerry smiled. He and Manny chatted with three eager staff members about his own age. Jerry was coming to see that the West Coast staffers who believed they were so much more liberal in appearance and thought than people back east were in fact really not so different from the crew he worked with in Stratford, the Pork Congress of Canada. Mika was a tall, attractively bookish, mahogany-brunette with some far eastern, spiritually inspired tattoos, and a peaceful calm about her. Rolf was only twenty-one, and with his short stature and long, shaggy blond hair, was the closest thing Jerry had ever seen in the real world to Cousin Itt of the Addams Family. Andy, like Rolf, was just out of college and seemed to be the most conservative of the bunch with a dull, moneyed, prep school look and attitude.
And then there was Lee-Anne. Jerry had quickly decided that she was far too much like the small-town women back in Stratford. She was a curvy, dark-blonde a couple years older than himself, and, as became quickly apparent to Jerry, she was the married company flirt. She wasn’t participating very much in the conversation, but she leaned over the back of the couch near Jerry, hanging on his every word while she made sure he could see her cleavage out of the corner of his eye. Not staring was taking all the self-control he could muster, because he had to admit to himself that she had really nice cleavage. He’d had a couple drinks and was feeling quite relaxed, so he had to concentrate on the conversation at hand. At the moment, though, Mika had his complete attention, even without flashing her breasts.