Daniel closed his eyes, hiding from me the quick flicker of emotion I thought I glimpsed within them. I tried not to be hurt as I watched his handsome face become stoically composed once more. I pushed back the dark wave of hair which slipped over his forehead, tugging playfully at the grey strands woven throughout.
"Are you okay?" I asked after his silence stretched on for a little too long. Daniel opened his eyes, and the intensity of his silver gaze made me gasp. And then Daniel "the Dragon" Sutcliffe opened his attractive mouth and said five words I never thought I'd ever hear in my life.
"Clara, will you marry me?"
I jumped up from the floor and pulled on my panties and jeans in one quick motion, leaving Daniel lying open-mouthed in disbelief beneath me.
"That's not funny," I cried, trying to recapture my curls into some semblance of order. "You can't joke about things like that." I pulled my abandoned bra off with a frustrated growl and let it drop to the floor.
"I wasn't joking," Daniel snapped, sitting upright and sending me a cold glare. "I was being perfectly serious. I want you to be my wife, Clara."
"Why?" I blurted out as I stepped away from Daniel's outstretched hand.
He shook his dark head, his expression fierce: the Dragon was ready to do battle. "Because I'm in love with you and want to spend the rest of my life with you - why the hell else?" Daniel rose gracefully to his feet before righting himself and zipping up his fly; the intimate moment between us was lost.
"Were you ever going to tell me that?" I cried as I stepped around a pile of boxes, desperate to put some distance between the two of us and give my still-whirling mind a moment to comprehend what was happening. "Or were you just going to assume I'd figure it out on my own?"
"What's your problem, Clara? I just proposed to you for Chrissake, and you're fighting with me? This is supposed to be the happiest moment of your life!"
"Was it the happiest moment of your other wives lives too?" I shot back, instantly regretting the words as Daniel's steely eyes narrowed dangerously. I clamped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late to take the words back.
The Dragon loomed large over me, his mouth twisted into an ugly grimace. "Maybe I've made a mistake then, in thinking that you loved me back. Pardon me if I've gotten that impression over the past few weeks. I must be an idiot."
It was my turn to reach for him, but Daniel moved away from my straining fingers as easily as I had evaded his moments earlier. "I'm sorry," I said quickly, feeling the prick of tears spring up behind my eyes. "You just surprised me - that's all. You have to admit this is all moving a little quickly."
Daniel regarded me coldly for a moment before his grim expression melted into an awkward, lopsided smile. "I guess that was a little out of left field, I'm sorry."
"This is not how I pictured being proposed to," I admitted, blushing hotly as a tear escaped to trickle down my cheek. I ducked my head, allowing the curtain of my hair to hide my face from Daniel's questing gaze. "I think I just ruined the whole thing."
"No, it's my fault." Daniel moved towards me and cupped my chin in his large hand, tilting my head until I looked him in the eye. "You deserve better than a cold, bare floor in an empty room. Next time I'll do better, I promise Sweetheart."
Six months earlier I wouldn't have been able to imagine the Dragon apologizing to me in my wildest dreams. Now he stood before me with a boyish, self-conscious expression and rueful eyes. I smiled encouragingly at him. "That sounds fair. And the next time I'll react a little bit better, I promise."
Daniel's answered smile was so beautiful my heart ached. "I know you think I'm a fuck-up Clara, and I have the ex-wives to prove it. But I never felt for them what I feel for you. You say you trust me - please trust me in that too."
I nodded as Daniel's hand slid from my chin to the crook of my neck, pulling me close. His kiss was sweet and honest and said more to me than he probably realized.
"I love you too," I whispered as we parted. The flicker in his silver eyes made me smile.
-------
My feet were cold in my slippers and my neck ached from being hunched over my drafting table for so long, but I didn't feel compelled to stop. The quiet slide of the straight-edge and the scratch of my pencil over the vellum were the remedy for my frantic mind. I threw myself entirely into the Kendall plans, finding comfort in the ability of my work to chase almost all else from my brain.
Life with Daniel had settled quickly into a routine. We worked together all day, in silence mostly, until something needed to be said. Then we retired upstairs to cook and eat dinner before curling up on our perspective ends of the couch with our books, our feet entwined comfortably, our new cat asleep between us. When we went to bed we usually made love, sometimes with the frantic, roof-raising passion of old, other times with the slow, secret intimacy I treasured beyond words. We never spoke of Daniel's proposal or the future; it just seemed safer that way. We couldn't argue about it if we didn't talk about it.
It was nice to have work to throw myself into. Since starting his own firm three months ago, Daniel's client roster had grown steadily, and the newly christened Sutcliffe and Associates had expanded quickly to include an Administrative Assistant and two co-op students from the university in addition to Daniel and myself. During the day the fire hall could be a busy place, but I preferred the dusky, coolness of early evening when everyone had gone home and Daniel had slipped upstairs to the apartment to cook dinner.
The Kendall project had hit the wall, with the city refusing us a building permit and Mrs. Kendall refusing to sell. The land developers were starting to realize the old lady wasn't going to back down, and had switched instead to putting pressure on City Hall themselves to declare the building unsafe so it could be demolished. All-in-all it had turned quite nasty, but I couldn't quit my obsession with the project, and even though we had no need for any more plans, I couldn't stop drawing and redrawing every little detail of the house.
I sketched out the now-familiar foundations, not even needing my notes to remember the measurements or the photos to picture the shape of the simple structure. It was all imprinted in my head and probably always would be. My pencil flew, creating the familiar shape of the building yet again, finding a strange sort of comfort in the unchanging, stable foundation of the house I inexplicably loved.
"Clara?" Daniel's voice was husky and surprised me from my work. My head snapped up to see him standing beside my drafting table, two mugs of tea in hand. I hadn't heard him come downstairs.
He passed me my tea and studied the drawing tacked to my table. He shook his dark head. "The foundations again? I don't know why you're torturing yourself, Sweetheart. You know as well as I that this project is going nowhere."
I took a sip of the scalding Earl Grey, letting it warm my cold insides. Around the hot mug my fingers ached and tingled as they came back to life.
"I know," I conceded with a sigh. "But for some reason I can't let it go. I dream about it at night, think about it all day. It haunts me."
Daniel leaned over me and traced the foundation line I'd just drawn, inadvertently smudging the pencil. "You draw it so well; it seems a crime these plans will never be used. It's just the foundation, but you breathe life into every line; it's held this house up for more than a hundred years but even that isn't going to be enough to save it."
My mind whirled, making me gasp for breath as my tea trembled in my mug. Alarmed, Daniel crouched beside my chair and took the hot vessel from my hands. "Clara? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," I said slowly, feeling the possibilities open up before me in an endless vista. "The foundation..."