Chapter 3

It was late afternoon when Jo stopped the car in my driveway. When I moved back home, I simply took over one of my vacant, small rental houses as my own residence. I paid rent to my own company, and I was my own landlord. Being single, my needs were simple, and I let Jo into the house ahead of me.

“Oh, my,” Jo said with a laugh as she took in my battered chair and its matching side table. “At least it’s clean,” she said as she took in my spartan living arrangements.

“So I’m not an interior decorator,” I laughed as I carried my bag into my bedroom. While I cared nothing for decorating, I abhorred a messy house. My home was clean, my bed was made, and everything was in its place. “Okay, I’ll take you home, if you’re ready.” I stepped out to discover that Jo had gone to the bathroom.

“I had to pee,” she called through the door.

“Take your time.” I heard her giggle, and I sat in my chair to wait for her. She stepped out, and I repeated my offer to take her home.

“You can’t drive, and you shouldn’t be at home by yourself with that concussion. I’ll stay here with you.”

“I only have the one bed.”

“I thought you had two bedrooms.”

“I do, but I never bothered to furnish it. What about your place?”

“I rent a room from a friend of my father’s, so I have just the one bed, too. We can share yours, if it’s big enough.”

“You want to share a bed with me?”

“Are you planning to molest me if I do?”

“No.”

“Then, yes, I will.” She slapped me playfully on my arm as she peeked into my bedroom. “Is that a king bed?”

“It is. I like to have plenty of room when I sleep. And, it was on a really good sale with the bedroom set.”

“I see,” Jo giggled. “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?”

One thing I had learned in my life of solitude was how to cook. I would fix meals and freeze them for those days and nights when I didn’t want to cook. Tonight, though, I elected to grill hamburgers and cook up homemade steak fries on my outdoor grill. We sat on the patio to eat, and we talked until the mosquitoes finally drove us back inside.

Jo went to the shower in my bathroom, the only one in the house. I showed her where the towels were, and closed my bedroom door to give her some privacy. Soon, she called to me, and I took my shower, then I dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.

Jo tapped on the bedroom door. “Are you decent?”

“Yes, come in,” I called.

She stepped inside, clad in a nightdress fashioned like an oversize T-shirt. Her figure was much more apparent, and I took in some feminine curves that had definitely become curvier since I’d last seen her two years ago. She was still slim, and her sleepwear clung lightly to her breasts and hips. Her hair flowed down over her shoulders to her breastbone, and my breath caught in my throat.

She walked to her suitcase where I had set it on my dresser. She noticed my stare, and she stopped and looked at me. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

She flushed from her chest to her ears. “I’m just me. Stoppit, you’re embarrassing me.” She turned to retrieve a pair of brightly colored socks from her suitcase, and sat down on my bed to put them on. “Which side is yours?”

“Lady’s choice,” I said with a flourish.

“This side, then.” Jo smiled and pulled on her socks.

“That works for me.” I went through the house, making sure the doors were locked, and the hallway light was left on as a night light. My night vision was poor, and the light kept me from bumping into things in the darkened house. I went to the opposite side of the bed, and crawled in.

“You leave a light on?” Jo rolled onto her side to face me.

“I don’t like falling over things in the dark if I have to get up. Will it bother you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

We were both tired, and I heard Jo’s breathing settle into a deep, regular rhythm as she went to sleep. I followed her soon afterward, all the while pondering on how I was lucky enough to have Jo as my fiancée.

“Gil?”

I opened my eyes to see Jo leaning up on her elbow next to me. The morning sun streamed through the mini-blinds, and I blinked at her.

“Are you okay? I forgot to check on you during the night.”

“I’m okay. Did you get some sleep?”

“You snore, but yes.” She squinted at the window. “You need some blackout curtains in here.”

I rolled over to face her. “I don’t usually sleep in.”

Jo lay down on her side, her face a foot from mine. “This is nicewaking up next to you.”

I caressed her hair with my hand. “This is wonderful, waking up next to you, Jo.”

She smiled, and closed her eyes as I touched her hair and face. “That’s so good, Gil. I always thought that having a guy touch me would be weird.”

“It’s different with your fiancé.”

“Yes, it is.” She rolled onto her back. “To be honest, I’m a little scared.”

“I’m not trying to push you into marrying me, Jo. I love you, and I’d like to be a part of your life again.”

“I know. Most girls have a family, someone to give them advice, good or bad. I’m out here all by myself, and I’m scared.”

“We can wait, then. I will take you home.”

Jo sat up. “I need to get up. I’ll try to be quick.” She slid out of my bed and scooted into the bathroom. I rose and went to the kitchen to see about breakfast. A few minutes later, Jo appeared in the doorway, wearing a pair of jeans and a blouse. “Something smells really good.”

“Breakfast tacos,” I replied. “Have a seat at the bar.” I scrambled an egg into the mixture of refried beans and diced potatoes, and tilted the pan to slide the cooked eggs onto a waiting flour tortilla. “Here you go.”

“Do you have milk?”

I served her a glass of milk, and then I prepared my own meal with another glass of milk. We ate in companionable silence, and I noticed, to my relief, that she still wore my ring. “Are you feeling better?”

“I had a heart to heart conversation with myself while I was brushing my teeth and combing my hair.”

“Okay.” My mouth was dry, and my heart thudded in my chest. “Uh, what did you decide?”

“That I’m an idiot.”

“Oh.” I looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “I ... I can take you home, Jo.” I stood, retrieved the breakfast dishes, and set them on the counter. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” I turned to find her standing in front of me.

She regarded me calmly. “You do know that I love you, right?”

“Yes.” My voice was rusty with dread.

“I accepted your proposal, and I am wearing your ring.” She lifted her hand to show me. “I think you love me, and you want to marry me.” She reached out and grasped my shoulders. “I want that, too, and it scares the hell out of me, because I have no idea how to be your wife. I barely remember my own mother, and my father, bless him, raised me at the airport.”

“You know how to be my friend, and how to work with me,” I replied quietly. I made no effort to reach for her. “We will work at being married, and we will continue to be friends.” I looked up and met her eyes.