snapped up after Christmas. Vaguely he looked at who was advertising it, before moving on.
The grocery store was a little way down the road, the closer he got the more people hurried past him, piled up with their shopping. Last minute Christmas gifts, food and beer, everything that made Christmas special, along with the people you shared those things with. He couldn’t quite believe he was going to share it with Robin. If she hadn’t come to his gallery, he would be holed up with Carl right now, drinking beer and eating snacks, watching sport on TV.
He knew which scenario he preferred.
Damn. It was Christmas morning tomorrow, and he hadn’t got a single gift for Robin. How could something so important have slipped his mind. Wait. But she wouldn’t have got him one, so what should he do? Would she feel awkward if he gave her a gift if she hadn’t got anything in return. Or perhaps she had.
He was so busy thinking about it he walked right past the store. When he turned around he looked straight at a picture of the shop that was for lease. Raymond & Sons, this was the realtor who were handling it. Coincidence, or fate.
For several minutes he stood outside like and idiot, trying to reason what it was best to do. In the end he went in. This had to be one of the craziest ideas he had ever had.
Chapter Eleven - Robin
She had given the apartment a quick clean. Switching the lights on she dimmed them low so the room looked more romantic in the late afternoon gloom, and pulled the curtains to. With her hair still smelling faintly of baking, she was tempted to shower again, but the smell always comforted her, so she didn’t. The last thing Greg would be thinking about was the smell of her hair when she had told him her story.
A knock at the door brought her back to the present, and she went to answer it, butterflies filling her stomach.
“You were qu ... oh ... Helen, it’s you ... and the girls.” She looked at them for a few seconds and then remembered herself. “Sorry, come in.”
“Hi Robin,” Helen said, kissing Robin on the cheek. “Max asked us to pop in and persuade you to come to us for the day tomorrow. She said if I phoned you would fob me off.”
“Did she? Well, thanks Helen, but there’s no need.”
“So I can see.” Helen grinned. “You were expecting someone else.”
“I smell cakes,” Jess said, and peered around Robin, eyeing up the kitchen door.
“So do I, can we have one? Please, we’re starving.”
Robin looked down at the two excited faces. “Of course, come in. Where have you been?”
“We went to see Santa. Mummy’s been too busy working for us to go before, but now she’s at home for a whole five days.”
“Lucky Mommy,” Robin said, thinking how incredibly excited the two girls were, they would run poor Helen ragged. “You’ll need to go back to work for a rest,” she added quietly to Helen.
“Don’t knock it, Robin. I would love to stay at home with them all day every day. But I’ve had to do what extra shifts I can over Christmas to buy presents.”
“And has their daddy turned up bearing gifts?” She asked when the girls had disappeared into the kitchen.
“You must be joking, he’s more likely to turn up when he wants something, not because it would be nice for the girls to see him. They’ll forget what he looks like if he leaves it much longer. Men.”
“Mmm, men.”
Helen looked at her slyly. “So are you going to spill? Don’t try to tell me that you weren’t expecting someone else at the door. And you’ve been baking, and you look glowing.”
Robin put her hands up to her cheeks, they felt warm, Helen was right. “It’s from the baking. Hot ovens, you know.”
“That is not the kind of flush you get from baking. I might not have seen my husband for six months but ... well ... I know. Did you pick someone up last night? I tried to ring but got your machine.”
“Oh, I never checked my messages when I got in.”
“No. Other things on
The grocery store was a little way down the road, the closer he got the more people hurried past him, piled up with their shopping. Last minute Christmas gifts, food and beer, everything that made Christmas special, along with the people you shared those things with. He couldn’t quite believe he was going to share it with Robin. If she hadn’t come to his gallery, he would be holed up with Carl right now, drinking beer and eating snacks, watching sport on TV.
He knew which scenario he preferred.
Damn. It was Christmas morning tomorrow, and he hadn’t got a single gift for Robin. How could something so important have slipped his mind. Wait. But she wouldn’t have got him one, so what should he do? Would she feel awkward if he gave her a gift if she hadn’t got anything in return. Or perhaps she had.
He was so busy thinking about it he walked right past the store. When he turned around he looked straight at a picture of the shop that was for lease. Raymond & Sons, this was the realtor who were handling it. Coincidence, or fate.
For several minutes he stood outside like and idiot, trying to reason what it was best to do. In the end he went in. This had to be one of the craziest ideas he had ever had.
Chapter Eleven - Robin
She had given the apartment a quick clean. Switching the lights on she dimmed them low so the room looked more romantic in the late afternoon gloom, and pulled the curtains to. With her hair still smelling faintly of baking, she was tempted to shower again, but the smell always comforted her, so she didn’t. The last thing Greg would be thinking about was the smell of her hair when she had told him her story.
A knock at the door brought her back to the present, and she went to answer it, butterflies filling her stomach.
“You were qu ... oh ... Helen, it’s you ... and the girls.” She looked at them for a few seconds and then remembered herself. “Sorry, come in.”
“Hi Robin,” Helen said, kissing Robin on the cheek. “Max asked us to pop in and persuade you to come to us for the day tomorrow. She said if I phoned you would fob me off.”
“Did she? Well, thanks Helen, but there’s no need.”
“So I can see.” Helen grinned. “You were expecting someone else.”
“I smell cakes,” Jess said, and peered around Robin, eyeing up the kitchen door.
“So do I, can we have one? Please, we’re starving.”
Robin looked down at the two excited faces. “Of course, come in. Where have you been?”
“We went to see Santa. Mummy’s been too busy working for us to go before, but now she’s at home for a whole five days.”
“Lucky Mommy,” Robin said, thinking how incredibly excited the two girls were, they would run poor Helen ragged. “You’ll need to go back to work for a rest,” she added quietly to Helen.
“Don’t knock it, Robin. I would love to stay at home with them all day every day. But I’ve had to do what extra shifts I can over Christmas to buy presents.”
“And has their daddy turned up bearing gifts?” She asked when the girls had disappeared into the kitchen.
“You must be joking, he’s more likely to turn up when he wants something, not because it would be nice for the girls to see him. They’ll forget what he looks like if he leaves it much longer. Men.”
“Mmm, men.”
Helen looked at her slyly. “So are you going to spill? Don’t try to tell me that you weren’t expecting someone else at the door. And you’ve been baking, and you look glowing.”
Robin put her hands up to her cheeks, they felt warm, Helen was right. “It’s from the baking. Hot ovens, you know.”
“That is not the kind of flush you get from baking. I might not have seen my husband for six months but ... well ... I know. Did you pick someone up last night? I tried to ring but got your machine.”
“Oh, I never checked my messages when I got in.”
“No. Other things on
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