Page 8 of Waiting for Gilbert

“You’re in my home, Cordelia, and I insist. You’re loved and accepted here.”

On her way out she taps a CD player on the bathroom counter and soft piano mixed with ambient sounds fills the air. Then she pauses, looking at me expectantly. I wait, eyebrows raised, until a cello joins the piano and her face splits into a knowing smile.

“There,” she says. “You just try not to relax with that flowing through your veins.”

I could try. But have you ever tried to relax with the knowledge flowing through your veins that a certain cello man named Gilbert, with a smile that melts chocolate, is on the other side of the house?

4

GILBERT

AVICII—WAKE ME UP

“There’s a pretty new girl in town, Gilbert.” Aunt Jewels fairly bursts with the secret she’s about to share when I finally spot her exiting the hallway from her bedroom. We must have missed each other, and she’s already helped the girl from the kitchen.

“She’s pretty new? Or new and pretty?” I offer my elbow and escort her toward the living room.

“Both.” She absently adjusts her ridiculous nativity necklace. I’m glad I didn’t carve the figurines any bigger. Should’ve known she’d turn them into jewelry. “She’s delightful. You will simply love her.” My aunt’s commentary is spot on, although I would have added that the girl is also overwhelmed and tired. Delightfully snippy.

“Should I schedule the proposal for next weekend?” I smile when she continues to fiddle with Mary and Joseph. She never makes eye contact when she’s scheming. “Remember what we talked about last week? I have deadlines. Goals. Plans. I don’t need you to set me up. Just because I’m single doesn’t mean I’m lonely.” I could leave it at that, but it’s so much fun to poke the bear. “I’ve sworn off women forever.”

She shoots me a glance over her red-rimmed glasses. “That’s a lie from the pit, and you know it, son. Kinsey wasn’t for you. Try again.”

“Kinsey? Are we still on that?” Kinsey and I broke up months ago. We were barely an item in the first place. “Fine.” I gently remove the manger with baby Jesus from her grasp and arrange the figures to hang in a proper line. “Give me two years. Can I do this my own way? I need a couple more years to focus on the big house. You’ve seen it, Aunt J. You know it’s going to be worth a fortune, but I have to do the work. The full-time, overcommitted work. I don’t have time to date until I’ve sold it and have my feet under me when I tackle the next.”

“Honey, you’re all alone out there?—”

“Don’t.” I run both hands through my hair. “How can you possibly say that? John and I are hired out at least once a month. I’m here right now! I’m at your party every Thursday. I’m at church on Sunday, I rub shoulders with people at the hardware store, and you wouldn’t believe how often I’m hauling a trailer from Omaha. Home Depot, Menards, Lowes? I know all the managers by name. Carl, Katie, Sam. We’re practically water cooler buddies. Not alone.” I laugh with a huff. “No one gets lonely with you for an Aunt.”

“Now, hon.” She guides me to a quiet corner away from the card tables being set up on the other end. “You don’t have to be lonely to enjoy the company of a wife.”

“You’re meddling again.” It’s our broken record conversation again.

“What if your forever girl is here, and you miss her because you’re wearing blinders?”

There is no arguing with Aunt Jewels. “Woe is me.”

“I worry about you.”

“I’m great, and I don’t have time for a girl with my workload.”

“You will always have work!” She tosses her hands to the side. “You’ll finish this house and sell it, and you’ll find another. What difference does it make?”

“I can’t afford to date. It’s not worth my—Bah.” I don’t need to defend myself to her again. She’s heard me explain how this process works. She’s the one who’s blind to my logic. My hands come together under my nose, chin resting on my thumbs while I contemplate our circulatory conversation. Aunt Jewels wants me to meet the cute girl I’ve already met. I have no qualms with this, but I refuse to be shoved into a relationship. Especially when it’s not what I want.

Considering our kitchen interaction, I’m sure that chick isn’t looking for a relationship with me either. I admit she’s intriguing. She’s fiery and exciting. My attention riveted to her the moment she walked into the house. Goodness, she’s the first chord I’ve missed mid-show in years. That’s something. I draw in a breath and refocus.

I will not have an extra minute or penny until I sell the house I’m flipping. Dating is a distraction. Dating is expensive. This property took all of my savings. The construction loan is a heavy burden, and what I scrape in for my part-time music is barely enough to eat. My time is too valuable to waste it showering some girl with time and money I simply don’t have. I won’t bring a girlfriend, much less a wife, into that mess.

Aunt Jewels meets my stare.

She opens her mouth, but after a stern shake of my head, she shuts it. Kinsey and I drifted apart for this very reason. I could never afford to go to the places she wanted to go. She needed more time than I could give her to make it work. Why spin that record again?

Once my pulse decrescendos, I lower my hands with a slow exhale. “Even you wouldn’t want me to acquire a girlfriend and not treat her how she deserves.”

“But, Gil?—”

“I love you, but stop.”

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