Chapter 87

I slept as well as I had in recent weeks. When I awoke on Sunday, Jill was still lying on my chest. I had both of my arms around her, holding her as if to protect her. Her body felt almost hot against me, her breath warm as it played against my chest. It felt so right to have her snuggled up to me. She smelled of Jill, not soap and shampoo. It was a good smell. Her hair tickled my nose.

I leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"Uuuhmm." Her right arm tightened around my side.

"Hey. Are you awake?"

"I guess."

"You feel good here."

"Uuhhmm. I know."

"I could stay like this forever."

"Good."

"But I've got to pee."

"Noooo."

"Sorry, Babe. Nature calls."

She released her grip on me and rolled off me, on her side, her back to me. She held the blankets tightly to her.

"Go ahead. Leave me all alone to freeze to death."

"Sorry. I love you."

"Go on. Get out of here."

I got up and went into the bathroom. It's amazing how much urine the male body is able to accumulate before it has to dispose of it. I know it wasn't that long, but it seemed like I'd been in front of the toilet for five minutes when I heard someone pounding on the door.

"Jack. Come on. I need to go."

It occurred to me that this was a crossroads of our relationship. My mouth, tongue or fingers had been in or on almost every part of her body. As had hers with mine. But the use of the toilet is considered to be one of the most private actions of a person in this society. It's not that big a deal for people who are close to walk into the bathroom when a person is taking a shower, for example. If I was in there with the curtain closed and Mary or Sara wanted to brush her teeth, there wouldn't be any fuss. True, I was more exposed using the toilet, and neither Mary nor Sara would be welcome. But Jill and I were intimate with each other, almost married. What were the correct parameters on these things? Did Mom and Dad just walk in on each other when one was using the toilet? Did they knock and get permission? Did they wait until the other person was done or the door was left open as a signal they would be welcome? I'd have to get with Mom on this one.

"I'll be done in a minute, Jill."

I finished off, and put myself back in my pants. I yelled "OK" and went to the sink to wash my hands.

Jill opened the door, came through, closed it, made a dash for the toilet, lifted her flannel nightgown out of the way, sat down on the toilet and almost immediately started peeing.

I was drying my hands when I heard the sounds of her bowels moving. I made my way out, closing the door behind me.

Dino and Bozo came up to me and whined when I walked into the kitchen. I forgot, the dogs had been cooped up in the house because of the rain. I don't think they even got put out before we went to bed because it was coming down so hard. If I'd thought of it, I'd have done something so they a could relieve themselves. It never even occurred to me, and I assumed it didn't to anyone else, either.

I opened the door and the three of them went through it like a shot. Dino and Bozo immediately squatted down on the driveway side of the gate, using the small patch of grass there. Queenie was waiting until I let her in the back yard so she could use her designated bathroom area. I opened her gate and she went through and over to her section of the yard.

The rain had stopped but I didn't think it was over. There were too many clouds in the sky, and too many of them were black. The pool was out for today. I supposed we were going to have to come up with some other form of entertainment as the weather would be colder from now until the spring. Oh, there would be days when it would be warm enough to swim, provided we didn't mind swimming in water that hadn't been heated by the sun.

There's a group of men who have formed what they call the Polar Bear club. Every New Years Day, there's a couple of minutes on the local news, showing them running into the ocean, swimming out 100 yards or so and coming back out. But there's a big difference between being a crazy old man following a stupid tradition and swimming for pleasure.

I coaxed Dino and Bozo into the yard and closed the gate. It wouldn't hurt them to stay outside for a while.

I went back inside. Mom and Jill were sitting at the table. Sara was eating her cereal. Mary was making pancakes. Mom had her attention on the slowly brewing coffee.

Mom has a cast iron skillet or griddle, I'm not sure of the technical term. It's solid; you could knock somebody's head off with it. And it's big. It must be 18" across, shaped like an octagon. It's flat almost all the way to the edge, then there's a trough, maybe three quarters of an inch wide and a half inch deep. The edge is about three eighths of an inch higher than the bottom of the pan. You put it over one burner on the stove and the heat spreads through the whole thing. The trough catches liquids and the raised edge is further protection from spills.

Mary was cooking four pancakes at a time. I went over to the refrigerator and grabbed the syrups and butter and took them over to the table. In addition to the maple syrup, Mom had some blueberry syrup that we used for pancakes. She got it from some place on the Internet and it was great. Thick, with chunks of blueberry that tasted fresh.