Menagerie

Chapter 7 - Simon

The door closed behind Anita and I was left alone. We were going to need to get our own place, I thought. No way was I living with my mate under my parents' roof. That was a problem that could wait until May, though. For now, I was living in a little studio apartment just off-campus. It would be cozy, but surely Charlotte wouldn't mind it for a few months while I finished my master's degree.

I was getting ahead of myself. I didn't even know where she lived. They were on a road trip, Anita had said. How far were they going? How far had they come? If she lived far away and had a job or lease that tied her to that place, we might hardly see each other until I graduated in May. The anecdotes I'd heard from newly-mated couples made me think that would be either impossible or excruciating.

Even if I wanted to put off talking to Charlotte, I couldn't. We had to figure this out, and the sooner, the better.

Text or call? Texting would be a more delicate approach, but if I called I could actually speak with her. I let myself pretend for a minute that it was really a debate. Then I called her.

"Hello?" she answered. Her voice was lower than I'd been expecting, and it was tentative.

"Charlotte? It's Simon, Anita's brother." My voice came out steady and, I hoped, casual.

"Oh, hi! Anita said she'd give you my phone number. I'm sorry about the inconvenience. What did I leave there?"

Anita must not have gotten back to her. "'The Hobbit,''' I answered.

She groaned. "Shoot. But I guess it could have been worse. I don't think we'll be coming back toward Calgary, but if you mail the book to my parents' house for me, I'll pay you back."

I had no intention of doing that, but I had just learned a promising piece of information: she lived with her parents. That meant she was more likely to be able to move in with me. Of course, we had to get to that point first.

"Actually, the book isn't the only reason I called," I said.

"It isn't?" She sounded wary.

"No." I struggled and failed to put in words what needed said.

"Simon?" she asked hesitantly.

"Sorry, I'm here. I'm just... trying to get this right."

"You're making me nervous," she said. "What is it?"

Enough, I told myself. Just say it. "I want to meet you," I said. There, that was a good start.

"But... we aren't coming back that way. We're in already in Saskatoon. It's much easier to just mail the book." She sounded confused and I couldn't blame her.

She had clearly misunderstood me. I grimaced. This conversation was fraught. "Where do you live?"

"Montana," she said. Her tone was cautious. I was probably coming across like a crazy person.

She was American, then. That would make things a little harder, since one of us was going to need to get legal permission to live in the other country. Yet if she had to be American, at least Montana was relatively close.

"Saskatoon," I muttered to myself. I could get to Saskatoon by tonight if need be. But I wasn't going to chase after her without her knowledge or permission.

"Simon?"

"Charlotte, I really need to see you. Could I bring your book to Saskatoon? Maybe we can meet somewhere tomorrow morning?" Because requesting tonight seemed creepy.