A Long and Lonely Mile

Chapter 13

Had he not seen the sign in the Main Street jeweler's window on the way to the cafe, it would have been just another morning. Maybe it was power of suggestion, maybe it was destiny, but before he even made it through the front door, Tavington and the ring chose one another. It wasn't ornate or regal by any standards. The dazzling effect that the morning sun had on the single marquise-cut diamond and the glint on its dainty silver band weren't nearly as important as the image that Tavington had in his mind of the ring on his Marigold's slender finger. It would complement her sweetness, her simplicity and her undeniable beauty that had always seemed akin to a diamond in the sunlight.

He was initially concerned about having to explain the payment plan to Marigold, but the jeweler was more than accommodating. No mail would be sent to "their" home unless he was overdue; it was a good as a secret. After all, now was not the best time to ask Marigold to be his wife. But the day would surely come. They had a few events coming up in the future and the forecast for mid-October looked favorable for walks. There were so many options, they had plenty of time and the future couldn't look brighter.

Halfway through work, something changed. The sweet weight of his most important purchase of the 21st century in his breast pocket included, everything seemed to be going his way. Tavington had jumped through all the right hoops, kept his work station pristine and running like a switch, he'd even received news of a small raise that would be included in his next paycheck. So, why the sudden shift in his demeanor?

For one, Marigold had not been herself all weekend and starting the week off by digging out the dress that she had worn to her parents' funeral only worsened her mood. Although seeing his beloved in such a state of emotional distress and knowing that he would have to work through Tristan's memorial service and Baako's court hearing made him feel like a failure as a boyfriend, there was something else that was eating away at him. Something entirely separate from engagements and timing and guilt.
Louie was the first to notice the difference in Tavington's presentation. He was scrubbing just as aggressively and stacking plates just as quickly as ever, but he was only able to do so while leaning against the wall for support. His eyes, usually widened and ready for any incoming trays, were weary and distant. Tess took one look at him at Louie's request and demanded that he take however long a break he required.

"Have a glass of water, a cup of tea or coffee, anything you need is on the house. You should also try walking it off," she pushed a chair beneath him, catching his slow slide down the wall. "Or sit it off. Do whatever you have to do."

When he was finally able to move again, he went to the men's room and splashed some cold water on his face. His fingers felt numb first and then the numbness moved through all his extremities. Poor circulation would have been any modern man's first guess, but his anatomical knowledge was limited to the most effective places to shoot or stab the enemy in battle. Sitting still made it worse, so he took Tess' advice, filled a paper cup with water and headed for the front door.

It was darker and colder outside than he expected it would be. A combination of the shortening of days and yet, another blustery evening was likely the cause. Most of the café's patrons were seated inside. In his awkwardness, Tavington brushed past the only customer on the patio, a young girl, while weaving through the maze of umbrella'd tables and black iron chairs.

"Watch yourself," she demanded. He had barely touched her, but it seemed to have set her off nonetheless. As she pulled her chair inwards and away from him, it scraped loudly against the concrete and produced a sound far worse than nails on a chalkboard.

Tavington would have apologized and moved along, but there was something attention-grabbing about this girl. Something familiar. As he turned to get a better look, his head stopped spinning. His heart, which had been pounding in his ears, seemed to steady out.