Chapter 2: January- Getting Reacquainted

Four weeks later, the first Friday of the New Year saw Seaman Jayson Markus and Commander Mitch Ross leaving the base for the two hour drive south. Once on the highway, Jayson spared no time getting back to his mother's house. They arrived just in time for dinner. Once dinner was finished and cleaned up, the brothers went upstairs to play the video games Trent had up there. Mitch stayed downstairs with Tory and played some cards while they talked a bit more. When Tory noticed that it was getting late, she went to gather the linens for the sofa.

"Are you sure you won't be more comfortable on the futon, or taking my bed?" Tory asked, as she reluctantly handed over the bedding for the sofa.

"Not at all," Mitch replied. "This will be just fine. I'm not going to put you out of your bed. Besides, I don't feel it would be proper right now for me to sleep on the same floor as you."

"I know I'm not stupid, but I just don't get that." Tory raised her hands and shrugged her shoulders to accentuate her point.

"You are single and very attractive, Tory. If I'm sleeping on the futon upstairs, I might 'wander' into your room. At least, right now, I have the stairs and your bedroom door to deter me from attempting to take advantage of you. And, no one can imply impropriety."

"Let me take the sofa, then; and you take my bed. We won't be on the same floor and the same door will keep us separated. I just have a hard time making a guest sleep on the sofa." Mitch had to give Tory credit for her perseverance. She was as much a gracious hostess as he remembered her mother being.

But, Mitch just shook his head. "Won't work. With you down here, you are open and vulnerable. Even at the risk of creaky stairs, I would probably try to sneak down during the night." Before Tory could voice another argument, Mitch gently kissed her lips. "It's getting late. Why don't you go to bed? I can make up the sofa just fine. No more arguments."

As Tory got ready for bed, she couldn't get Mitch's kiss out of her mind. Using the pretense of offering a warmer comforter, Tory slipped on a robe over her pajamas and quietly snuck downstairs.

"I can tell you're there; why are you sneaking around?" Mitch was amused when Tory stepped out from the shadow of the hallway.

"I just brought down a warmer comforter, in case you needed it; it can sometimes get drafty down here," Tory explained sheepishly. And then she added rather defensively, "And, I wasn't sneaking, but I didn't want to make too much noise, in case you were already asleep."

Mitch chuckled quietly and put down the book he was reading. "I couldn't sleep, anyway. Come here." Mitch was sitting on the sofa, stretched out along its length. He adjusted himself under the covers and patted the cushion next to his hip.

Almost shyly, Tory approached, hugging the comforter to her chest. When she sat down on the sofa, Mitch gently took the comforter from her. "Thank you," he said, stretching the additional warmth along his body. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"I have a meeting from 8 until noon. I figured I'd go grocery shopping after that. You guys are on your own for lunch, and then I'll make lasagna for dinner when I get home."

"How about," Mitch countered, gently caressing her knee while he talked, "your boys are on their own for lunch. I'll meet you after your meeting, take you out for a light lunch and then we'll go shopping. For dinner, I'll take you all out to celebrate your birthday. You make your lasagna for Sunday. Markus and I need to leave by 1900 Sunday night."

"But, that's not the premise for the 'birthday dinner'," Tory corrected.

"I'm not suggesting you change the idea of the dinner. I'm merely suggesting you move it to Sunday so that I can take you out on Saturday. You've opened your home to me, not once but twice. I need to show my gratitude somehow." Mitch had a way about him that was slowly breaking down Tory's resolve. Before she could voice another objection, he leaned over and captured her lips again. This time, while remaining gentle, Mitch's lips held the promise of a passion as yet unleashed.

"Please say it's okay," Mitch begged breathlessly, keeping his mouth inches from her own.

"Okay," whispered Tory. Almost as if in a trance, she rose from the sofa and went up the stairs to her room. As she tried to sleep, visions of Mitch kept floating through her mind.

Saturday went quickly. Tory attended her meeting and Mitch met her afterwards so they could go to lunch and then grocery shopping. He refused to let her pay and would not listen to any of her arguments. Dinner out that night entertained two lively conversations. Trent and Jayson talked continuously about what each brother was doing; Jayson talked a little about his time in the Navy, but mostly asked Trent questions about school, scouts and girls. Mitch engaged Tory in a conversation about her life after that first weekend they met many years ago. During dinner and the two conversations, Jayson would occasionally glance over at the commander and his mother.

As soon as they got home, the phone rang. While Tory went to go answer it, Jayson approached the commander.

"Commander, sir. Permission to speak freely?"

"Of course, Markus. We're on weekend leave, you don't need to be so formal."

"Is there something going on between you and my mother, sir?" The commander was a little surprised with Jayson's forward question, but, after clearing his throat, decided to answer as best he could.

"I met your mother almost thirty years ago, when your uncle and I were in college together. I only met her that one time, but she left a lasting impression on me. Nothing is going on right now, except for getting reacquainted."

"If it matters, sir, I approve; so does my brother. She deserves to be taken care of for a change. I know you'll do right by her."

"Thanks, Jayson." The two men shook hands as Tory entered the room. Then Jayson excused himself, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek as he left.

"What was that about?" Tory asked as Mitch led her to the sofa next to him.

"Your eldest was questioning my intentions," answered Mitch, smiling slightly.

"I'm sorry. He still thinks he needs to take care of me," apologized Tory. "We had had more than one 'heated' discussion about that after my divorce."

"Don't be sorry. I respect him for what he did. I'm not so sure that, if I were him, I wouldn't do the same thing under the circumstances."

"What did you tell him?" Tory looked down at her hands wringing in her lap.

"I told him," Mitch began, gently cupping Tory's chin and lifting her face to his, "that you left a lasting impression on me that weekend we first met. I never realized it until I saw you again." Mitch took a deep breath, restraining himself from kissing Tory, before he continued. "Tory, I'd like to continue this; whatever it is that we've started. What would you think about trying a long-distance relationship where I couldn't promise you how often we'd see each other? But, I could promise, if you wanted something permanent that you'd have to leave what you have here and come to me."

"I'd think you might be reading too much into the couple of meager kisses we've shared." Mitch dropped his hand at the brusqueness of her words. Tory didn't intend on sounding insulting, but if her first marriage taught her anything, it was to be a realist. She didn't believe that much could come of this relationship, under the circumstances.

"Are you telling me you didn't feel anything when we kissed?" challenged Mitch. "I could see the flush on your face afterwards."

"I'm not saying that..."

"Okay, what would you say if I told you that, not only do your sons approve of my courting you, but Jay also gives his approval?"

"You've talked with Jay about this?" Because of the late hour and her boys being in the house, Tory tried to keep her voice down, but did nothing to mask the anger that was rising.

"We've been in touch," Mitch began explaining. "He told me about Trent's ceremony and asked that I try to get Jayson to it. He also told me about you being divorced and not dating. He said he worried about you but thought that we'd be good for each other."

"So, is he match-making all the way from down south?"

"No. Didn't you hear when I used the phrase 'worried about you'?"

"Look, Commander. I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression about me. I'm grateful you've helped my son, but I don't have time for mercy dates. If you'll excuse me, I've had a long day; I'm going to bed." As Tory quickly left the room, Mitch hung his head in frustration, running his fingers through what little hair the Navy regulations allowed him to keep.

As soon as she was in the safety of her bedroom, Tory closed the door quietly and allowed her tears to silently fall. Just as she was about to turn off the light on her nightstand, there was a quiet tap on her door.