in Italian. Did Taran really see them in the for ever?
Taran seemed to read her mind. He put his hand on her shoulder and drew her against him, pressing his chin to her head. ‘At our age there’s no point playing games,’ he said softly. ‘I know what I want.’
In the days that followed, Taran took the time off to show her the sights of Toronto, which he must have seen a thousand times. They went jogging in the park, dined in the most fashionable restaurants and wandered around the city’s famous Royal Ontario Museum. They went to the top of the CN Tower and visited Ripley’s Aquarium, which boasted sixteen thousand aquatic animals. Taran insisted they buy tickets for a boat tour, which Daisy thought hilarious. That was one thing Taran had never done either and the two of them sat on the deck while tourists took photographs and a woman with a microphone pointed out all the sights in a twangy, nasal voice which Taran spent the rest of the day imitating.
Daisy imagined living there, in Taran’s apartment. There was certainly enough space for her to draw, for the condo was big with high ceilings and lots of light, not unlike the Sherwoods’ barn back at home. She could picture her easel and see herself drawing there, pausing every now and then to look out over the Victorian building with the fire escape that stood on the opposite side of the street. Perhaps she’d try and draw people as well as animals, she mused, expand her range. She no longer doubted she could.
It was easy to envisage herself making a home in his. Her clothes in the cupboards, her toiletries in the bathroom. She could see herself pottering about the kitchen, chopping vegetables on the island, boiling pasta on the hob. She would add a feminine touch to the apartment: long-stemmed roses by the sink, scented candles in the bathroom, geraniums on the windowsill, perhaps some brightly coloured cushions on the sofa. It wasn’t hard to imagine herself in Taran’s condo. It wasn’t hard at all.
One morning, while Taran was busy on the telephone, sorting out a sudden problem that had arisen in the office, Daisy went out on her own to explore the neighbourhood. She wandered up the streets, browsing in shop windows, venturing into the deli, which was her favourite type of shop, and pausing to enjoy the flowers in the flower shop. Eventually, she sat on a bench and watched this foreign world saunter by. It was vibrant and colourful with everything one could possibly need, and it had charm, lots of charm. She had made a home for herself in a foreign city once already, she knew she could do it again. Besides, she realized that there was something envigorating about starting over in a new city. She thought of her parents who had lived in the same village all their lives and considered herself lucky to have the opportunity to experience different cultures, to gain a wider perspective of the world. She had learned Italian in Milan, at least here in Toronto she wouldn’t have to learn a new language.
Daisy was curious to meet Taran’s friends and cousins, and was pleasantly surprised at how welcome they made her feel when they met for dinner one night towards the end of her stay. But the moments she treasured most were the ones when it was just the two of them, in his sumptuous and airy apartment, lying entwined on the bed and talking about nothing, or making love long into the night, to the distant roar of the city that Taran called home. Being together was the most precious thing of all.
On the last morning, Daisy awoke to the murmur of Taran’s voice in the room next door, talking on the phone. She got up and stretched, then went to brush her teeth and have a quick shower. She put on his dressing gown and padded into the kitchen to help herself to some orange juice from the fridge. The room was open-plan with tall windows letting in the light. The rumble of a truck in the street below drowned out his voice for a moment. Daisy poured herself a glass of juice. Besides orange juice and cheese there was little in the fridge. Daisy wanted to fill it with salad and vegetables and fresh meat and cook a delicious dinner. She longed to make herself at home. But that wouldn’t be possible. As