One More Night

Bree spent the rest of the weekend the way she usually did. She did up some laundry, did the dishes, tidied up the apartment and even did some baking. It was late Saturday afternoon before she had decided it was safe to give Anna a call.

As suspected, Anna had a pretty decent headache. And had drunk called Mike, which meant they were going to meet up for dinner tonight and talk, once again. Bree couldn’t understand how either of them could deal with such a difficult situation. It was obvious Anna and Mike loved each other, and loved being with each other, so she couldn’t understand why they had so much drama about splitting up and getting back together. In her eyes, when you loved someone you fought to make it work, and if it didn’t – even if it hurt – you had to let it go.

After wishing Anna good luck, Bree felt exhausted, and bored. There was nothing for her to do for the rest of the day; nowhere to be, no articles to write… and she hated it. There was nothing she hated more than feeling useless, and having tons of spare time always made her feel useless. That was the way the rest of her Saturday had gone, as well as most of her Sunday. There was only so much cleaning, tidying and baking a person could do in a weekend.

It wasn’t until four o’clock that she received a text message that made her heart jump up and into her throat, making her struggle for breath. She quickly tried to get a hold of herself before picking up her phone and opening the message.

‘Hey, wondering what you’re up to – M’

She forced herself to wait a minute or two before thinking about what she would say. She didn’t want to seem desperate or like she’d been waiting by the phone for him to text or call. Because she hadn’t, and because she felt silly enough about him turning her into a giggling school girl – she didn’t want to feel like she was depending on him too.

‘Just some cleaning… boring stuff. You?’

‘Bored… only so much of my brothers I can handle per day, lol. –M’

She had to chuckle at that, able to picture Marc’s bright smile and his hazel eyes lighting up, his chuckle making his baritone voice a little lighter and softer.

‘No doubt’ she didn’t know what else to say, and so left it at that, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

Their conversation only lasted a few more minutes before dwindling down and finally ending. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to put Bree in a much brighter mood for the rest of her day. She had to head into the office tomorrow morning, and undoubtedly she’d end up editing a few of the other journalist’s articles. They were notorious for bad grammar and sometimes even bad spelling – it confounded her that they’d managed to get jobs in this field making the kind of mistakes she’d seen.

Just as Bree had feared, she spent the entire morning sitting behind a desk and proof reading most of the articles that would go out in the paper tomorrow. It was long and tedious, but she got an insight into everything going on in the world and in Thunder Bay. Bree didn’t usually watch the news, so it was nice to feel like she had a sniff of what was going on outside the small confines of her every day life.

Lunch was a quick run down to Subway to get a salad and chocolate milk, indulging in a couple of cookies, then returning to the office to eat and finish up the last article that her boss had asked her to look over. With that finished she picked up some folders for upcoming stories she would be covering and was given leave. Bree was grateful for that; she needed to buy some groceries in a desperate way, and after putting her long hair up in a ponytail she made her way out to her car. She drove down to the grocery store, wishing she’d brought something other than her heels to wear – she always felt ridiculous doing everyday things dressed for the office. In Toronto it hadn’t been a big deal; there were business people everywhere, but Thunder Bay was a lot more relaxed. It was part of what she loved so much about the place.

Right now she hated it, knowing she stuck out like a sore thumb with her high heels clicking against the tile of the grocery store and turning heads in her direction. She kept her eyes down, hoping to get the things she needed as quickly as possible so she could get home and into some normal clothes. Maybe even some workout clothes if she was feeling particularly ambitious.

“Hey, imagine seeing you here,” she whipped around at the deep voice, feeling her face heat up as she saw Marc standing in front of her. In a fitted t-shirt and a pair of shorts, with flip flops on and a ball cap pulled low over his eyes, he looked every bit like a college student ready to go partying for the weekend. And she wasn’t complaining about the fact Marc looked incredible no matter what he did.

“Same goes to you,” the smile was on Bree’s face before she could help herself, and she welcomed the friendly hug he gave her.

“So, just get off work?” he asked, falling into step beside her as she continued working her way through her list. He had a basket in his hand, with what looked like barbecue snacks – chips, pretzels, those sort of things. Bree nodded, stopping to debate on what kind of pasta sauce to pick up.

Marc reached out and snagged a jar from the shelf, putting it in her basket. She raised an eyebrow at him before pulling it out and reading the label, wondering what it was.

“It’s the best – my mom used it all the time,” he informed her, before promptly turning an adorable shade of crimson when he realized exactly what he’d just told her. She giggled at him before putting it back in the basket and getting a second jar.

“I’m taking your word on it – if I don’t like it you owe me,” she shot back. He nodded as he laughed, the two of them resuming their trek throughout the store.

“Deal. If you don’t like it I’ll take you out for dinner to make it up to you,” he agreed. The decision had Bree’s face heating up and her heart beating erratically, as much as she hated to admit it. They each paid for their own things, the girl at the till giving them a scrutinizing look as they continued talking even going through check out. Marc also insisted on helping her carry her groceries to her car, and lingered once they were in.

“So, um, would you happen to be free for the rest of the afternoon?” he finally asked, and the tension that had been slowly building as they stood outside of her car immediately dissipated. Bree smiled at him before nodding.

“I would be; did you have anything in mind?” she asked, and saw relief all over Marc’s face.

“Not really,” he admitted with a deep chuckle. “I was just hoping that we could hang out or something.”

“That would be great; I actually cleaned this weekend,” she told him, and he laughed before nodding.

“That sounds awesome, actually,” he agreed with her, and they’d soon agreed to meet at her apartment. Bree got there as quickly as she could, having lost track of Marc’s truck right off the get go. Not that she was worried; he knew where her apartment was, and if he managed to get himself lost he could call or text. She was hoping she could get changed into something normal before he got there.

Bree was hardly out of her skirt and blouse when Marc knocked at the front door. She quickly hollered that she’d only be a minute as she hopped into a pair of cut-off shorts and was pulling a T-shirt over her head as she stumbled her way to the front door. After making sure it was pulled down properly she unlocked and opened the door, letting Marc in. He brought with him a couple bags of chips and two bottles of pop, handing her one on his way to put the other snacks he’d purchased on the counter.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she blushed a little as she moved to put away her own groceries. Marc shrugged, and in companionable silence he helped her to put everything away. With that task finished they retired to the living room, and even though it was a hot summer’s day Marc sat down next to her; a moment’s hesitation before putting his arm around her.

“So, what do you want to do?” she asked an hour later. Marc shrugged, looking around her living room as she made a few suggestions.

“We could play the Wii,” he suggested, giving her a coy grin. She raised an eyebrow before she got up to set it up.

“We can… I’m going to warn you that I get competitive,” his eyes lit up at her challenge, and he nodded, getting up as well.

“Same here,” was his response as she handed him a controller. After flipping a coin for who got to pick the first game Bree put in Just Dance, even though Marc complained good naturedly.