“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. I hurt, but she did what she needed to do and has moved on.”
“If you’re sure you’ll be okay, I’d better go.”
“Really?”
“Jerry, you’re hurting from your loss of Ana, and I’m a little sad from my breakup with Danveer so—”
Jerry levered himself up off the couch and dropped the afghan. “Danveer dumped you?”
“No, I broke up with him. When we were here with Uncle Palak on Monday, I finally saw how dissimilar we are. I think I was more attracted to the idea of having Uncle Palak as a mentor than I was of having Danveer as a husband. He really doesn’t have a spiritual bone in his body. I spoke with Uncle Palak about it and he agreed completely. Actually, he wondered why it took me so long to figure it out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Or I’m not, I guess. If you’re not rushing home to him, stay awhile and watch a movie, chat, help me with my chakras.” He just wasn’t ready to be completely alone in the loft.
Mika shook her head and moved toward the door, where her coat hung. “I’ll be honest, Jerry. From the few days we’ve spent working together at the station, I’m more attracted to you than I ever was to Danveer. You and I are on the same wavelength on so many things. You may not think you’re a spiritual person, but the way you talk about music and life and how you find a way to tickle the laughter out of every situation, is straight from the spirit, the soul. And it’s damned sexy… If I don’t leave now, I’m going to take advantage of your heartbreak and mourning for Ana, and take you to bed. Or at least try to.”
“Um…” He didn’t know what to say, but mostly because he knew that under different circumstances she would have been his dream woman—if his dream woman weren’t already a dead Russian Grand Duchess.
“Jerry, I’m going. The roads are a little slippery, so I’ll text you when I get home safely. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. If you feel up to coming into the office, I’ll gladly come by and pick you up.” She shrugged into her coat, not giving him a chance to help her, and perhaps get too close to her.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. You probably think I’m no better than Lee-Anne, flirting with the new boss like he’s fresh meat and I’m starved for attention.” Her smile faltered.
“Not at all.” He put the cup and saucer on the kitchen counter and closed the distance to Mika, where he took her hands. “You’re not like that and really, neither is Lee-Anne. You’re an amazing woman, and I can feel some kind of energy between us, but my heart really and truly belongs to a silly little Russian ghost. You’re right that Danveer is wrong for you. Even this thick-as-brick man could see that. He’s a nice enough guy, but you walk different paths. You have to promise me, though, that you’ll keep walking your own path, confident that the right someone will someday step right up beside you and let their path overlap with yours.”
Mika laughed between tears. “Now you sound like Uncle Palak! That’s practically what he said to me.”
“He’s a wise man. In my case, though, my wisdom comes from listening to too many deep, soulful lyrics, and from a Deepak Chopra book I read last year.”
She moved a half-step closer and her voice softened. “Jerry, I…”
It was Jerry’s turn to kiss Mika gently on the forehead. “I know. Go. I’ll be fine.” He turned her gently around, opened the door for her, and patted her on the butt to scoot her out. “Text me when you get home, and I promise to let you know if I need a ride in tomorrow. Good night, Mika.”
“G’night, Jerry. Namaste.”
“Namaste right back atcha.”
Mika snickered and made her way down the stairs. Jerry closed the door gently behind her and clicked the deadbolt over as quietly as he could.
“It never rains but when it pours.” He looked over at Sushi. “If I’d known this whole I’m-dying-soon shtick worked so well on women, I’d have tried it years ago.” The fish looked at him and tilted his head as if he understood him. Jerry shook his own head. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s unfair. Mika’s better than that, and so was Ana.” He sighed and dropped back onto the couch. “Ana… where the hell did she go? Did that darkness she was so worried about suck up her soul?” The idea made him shiver, and he grabbed the afghan off the floor, wrapped it around himself, brought the television out of nap mode, and let the modern-day Holmes and Watson distract him. Fifteen minutes later Mika’s text came in saying that she was home safe and sound and thinking about him. She also urged him to call any time if he needed to talk. He texted back a quick note that he was glad she was safely home and he would call if he needed anything. He’d have written more, but he could barely read what he typed and the strain on his eyes threatened to bring on another headache. He did close off with a colon-bracket smiley-face, just so she didn’t misinterpret his brusqueness. Holmes himself was sending a text on the screen so Jerry put his phone and dark thoughts aside, and got lost again in the twisting, turning plot.
Chapter Twenty-three
@TheTaoOfJerr: “Jazz isn’t dead. It just smells funny.”
AT EIGHT O’CLOCK, his small travel alarm beeped only twice before Jerry silenced it. He’d been up for ten minutes already, staring fuzzily at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the street outside. There was a single honk and a short-lived distant siren, but generally speaking Victoria just didn’t seem to have the traffic and energy of even the suburbs of Toronto where he grew up. Only St. Marys was quieter than Victoria, though not after a hockey game, when the car and truck horns of either celebration or frustration punctured the night.
Last night had been a quick one. He’d fallen asleep immediately, had no dreams that he could remember, and woke up before the alarm sounded. He felt emotionally pummelled, but surprisingly well-rested. He was also fed up with what he’d called the “pity party” yesterday and was determined to get stuff done today. He still had the most recent quarterly reports to review for Manny, and his overly cautious nature told him he’d better call and confirm his family’s flight and hotel reservations. Online booking from the comfort of his pyjamas allowed him to bypass a travel agent and maybe save a few bucks, but it also meant that he had to do all the calling around himself, to confirm that the ducks were in a row for his mother’s visit.
There was something else he was supposed to do, but that part of his to-do list had fallen through his Swiss-cheese memory and might never reappear. He remembered that he planned to drop by the station later on, but since Mika would already be at work, he would cab it or walk, depending on what shape he was in when the time came. He nuked a couple of eggs, tossed them on toast, and washed them down with black coffee while scrolling through the reports he’d emailed himself. He had to enlarge the spreadsheet immensely so that his failing eyes could make out the numbers, but he quickly saw a couple areas of possible overspending he’d bring to Manny’s attention and highlighted them, just to jog his memory later on. He thought about it for a moment and decided that the highlighting wouldn’t be enough. A few taps of the laptop’s touchpad opened a blank document and he typed a quick note to himself with the dates and entries in question. His new motto was “Leave nothing to chance.” What he remembered today could be gone tomorrow, or even by lunchtime. He squinted at his note, rereading it to make sure he’d got everything down he wanted to remember. He did this with five more points before he finished going through the report. “It’s really not too bad at all. There’s nothing here Manny can’t fix quickly and almost painlessly.