Chapter 10

Saturday, Max and I were planning to be up and about early, ready to start cleaning the place up for our guests. Just not quite as early as actually happened...

When I woke at about five, I just knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep again. My stomach was doing those little nervous twitches, like I was sixteen again and going on my very first date.

Okay, actually it DID feel like finally scoring a first date with a girl I’d crushed on without success; except that I already had feelings for Mel, and it seemed she did for me. Half my lifetime ago, I’d been petrified of doing something really dumb and word getting back to school that I was a lousy date and to be avoided; now I was even more fearful of the high stakes that were involved if it went wrong.

Even if I had only known Mel for just over a month now, emotionally I was already in pretty deep. I was around 90% sure that today would all go great, but ... the other 10% had me worried. If this went south on me, I’d take quite a hit on my investment of myself in this budding relationship.

Too late to worry.

I pulled on some old sweats and took Max out in the cool of the morning.

No-one else was about; in the early stillness I even surprised a couple of humming-birds feasting on the nectar-infused dew in some agapanthus flowers that spilled through the neighbor’s fence. That was truly good to see, and I stood as still as I could so as not to frighten them while I enjoyed the sight.

(I forget who said it, but some wit once described the Los Angeles birds’ dawn chorus as a collective coughing fit as the air pollution hit their throats. Like many comments about SoCal, it was based on a chunk of truth, but a little exaggerated most days. Some days, though, when you could literally taste the brown haze in the air, we were all coughing like four-packs-a-day smokers. Thank goodness for the ocean; without it we’d all be wearing filtering facemasks like in some Chinese cities.)

Max wasn’t at all interested in the beauty of the scene; he was too busy checking his tally of known sniffs to discover whether some interloper had been cocking a leg on HIS markers.

Although in some ways Max is an ideal housemate – no arguments over who didn’t add ‘mayonnaise’ to the grocery list, no cries of ‘you gross pig!’ over me gulping milk straight from the carton (only joking, Mom!, I’d NEVER do that... ), no fights over which TV channel we’re watching, no competition for the bathroom when I’m in a hurry – he does lack a few social attributes.

He accepts my world view unblinkingly, without comment, but at times it might be a nice change to have a conversation with two of us participating and discussing, rather than it feeling a little like I’m talking to myself. Although it feels good to be running my fingers through his fur when I need some companionship, he seems to have perpetual morning breath, and you really don’t want him kissing you. No, he’s not the complete package in a live-in partner. Still better company and more loyal than Marsha was – though she was a lot more fun in bed sometimes when we weren’t fighting – but not exactly the summit of my relationship ambitions.

Sorry, fellow dog-lovers; I have to admit that my reflections as we got back home were that, amazing as dogs are for companionship, they’re not quite the total real deal. It was past time I had another human in my life, and, with luck, I might just have discovered the right one in Mel.

Today could be the day I found out. God willing.

I showered, shaved carefully, dressed, breakfasted on coffee and a slice of toast, and headed outside again. Naturally, two minutes after I declared the yard a poop-free zone, I had to fetch a bag to pick up the latest offering. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, dogs somehow manage to summon up just a little bit more as soon as they see a pristine lawn. I had to laugh. I swear Max was gloating. You know that prideful way dogs scratch at the grass with their back legs? No sign of shame or penitence there.

I hit the grocery store just before eight, for maximum choice of steaks, and found some great-looking aged-on-the-bone Angus ribeyes. I grabbed a pair for today and another pair as spares or for the freezer. As well as my usual list (some items for Sunday breakfast and lunch doubled, to feed two), I also picked up some condoms, just to be safe if the day developed like I hoped it might. I did hide them in my sock drawer in the closet, though; there’s absolutely no romance to a girl seeing condoms on your nightstand when you’re showing her round your place for the first time.

Clean sheets on the bed, clean towels in the bathrooms. Yes sir. I know the drill.

Then I did the nervous pacing and re-checking routine. Well, this was an important moment to me. I didn’t want to get it wrong. Changed into a fresh polo shirt. Brushed my teeth again. Debated whether I needed another shave. Cursed myself for not getting a haircut. Looked at my watch. Compared it to the time on the clock. Checked myself over in the mirror to ensure I hadn’t spilled toothpaste down my fresh shirt. Generally worried. You know what I mean. Wanting to look your very best. You must have been there yourself sometime. Maybe your Prom? That was probably the last time I’d been quite that skittish; even my formal interview for my current position hadn’t set off such a tense and anxious reaction. So exactly why was Mel’s first visit to my home so incredibly important to me?

Successful lawyers have a saying, ‘Never ask a question you don’t already know the answer to.’

I did know the answer. I just hadn’t yet admitted it to myself. Even after so short a time together, I was more than half in love with Mel. That’s why her approval was so important to me. I desperately hoped that we’d take the next step in our relationship today, and that the extra breakfast goods I’d bought would be needed. We were both mature adults, and it was time that we did what mature adults do when they want to be together.

Mel rang the bell just before midday, looking great in a navy blue polo shirt and matching knee-length skirt, smart yet veeeerrry sexy. I found her on the doorstep carrying a box with the various salad ingredients; she handed it over with a kiss and went back for Kara and Tara. Max was pleased to have their company, and showed them around his yard while I took Mel over the house.

She seemed to like it; she giggled as she commented that it looked like I employed a very efficient maid service. I took that as a compliment, “I wish! My Mom and Dad trained me to clear up after myself as I went along, then it never gets as bad. Obviously, Max and I have been up since three this morning polishing and dusting; we wouldn’t want any of you to get the idea that we’re messy bachelors.”

That earned me another giggle and a quick peck on the lips. I offered her a drink; she pulled a bottle of Shiraz from the box, and I grabbed the corkscrew.

She took over the kitchen to mix the salads while I was firing up the grill; one green leaves, one tomato with basil, oregano and a hint of jalapeno, and one potato with chives, shredded jack cheese and mayo. We sat on my patio and sipped a glass of her wine until the coals were just right, then watched the two prime rib-eye steaks sizzle in their marinade. Her salads were great, and she almost blushed with my compliments as I refilled my plate. “I don’t get the chance to make them very often, just buy a ready-made store pack if I want one myself. It’s real neat to sit down to some home cooking.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I’m delighted to be entertaining a guest; it feels so good to be able to take the trouble. It’s ... it’s doubly good that it’s you.”

Her face broke out into an even bigger smile; I guess the sincerity behind my words showed through. I was genuinely delighted to have Mel visit my home.

Our plates empty, we cleared away, then she asked if we could sit on the couch and talk. “We need to cover a few topics that I didn’t want to discuss in a restaurant?”

Intrigued, but hopeful, I refilled our glasses and led the way. She sat down gracefully and handed me an envelope from her purse, her facial expression firm but unreadable. “Open it, please, read it.”

She sipped her wine while I extracted the paper. It was a medical laboratory report, dated a few days earlier, confirming that she had been tested for the following sexually transmitted infections ... and that she was free of them. It also stated that she affirmed that she had not had sex since August, and that therefore more than six months had passed and the negative results for HIV and AIDS were valid although not conclusive. I knew the lab; they did good work. Okay.

I looked at her. “I’m reading this as meaning you want to take the next step in our relationship? I can get myself tested Monday?”

She hesitated. “Yes ... and ... no. I admit that I’m very keen to see if we are as sexually compatible as we seem to be personality-wise, and yes, I’ve just finished my period so I’m feeling extra horny, but I’m happy to wait a little longer before we take it to the bedroom. Why I showed it to you right now, is that we need to talk seriously about how we see sex before we actually do it. You need to understand that I’m a very sexual person. Extremely so. Sex is something really important to me, a huge part of any relationship, but especially a long-term and totally serious one like I hope we’re starting off. If we aren’t a good match in bed, then that would be a big concern for me. I’ll admit that I’m smitten with you, and I so absolutely want our relationship to be going somewhere good.”