Jessie and Josie twisted on their stools and I straightened, pushing off my forearms which I was resting on the counter. Colt got four, “Hey Colts,” and he returned the greetings but I was giving him the jaw-tilt and not only did his eyes never leave me, he came directly to me.
I turned to him when he hit the kitchen and got close. Instead of smiling at me, he put a hand to the side of my neck and used it to pull me toward him and up. I went on my toes and he touched his mouth to mine. I heard, straight out, Josie’s loud sigh and I nearly rolled my eyes but that might make Colt do more than a lip touch and I liked Josie, I didn’t want her to expire from delight in Colt’s dining area.
“You catch ‘em?” I asked when he lifted his head.
“Baby, I just left the crime scene.”
“So? I thought you were Superman.”
He grinned and his grin communicated two things. One, he thought I was funny. Two, he was remembering our conversation last night. I felt warmth hit my cheeks and other more intimate places and found that, two minutes before I was happy for all the company I had. Just then, I wished they’d all go away.
His fingers at my neck gave me a squeeze and he said, “Gotta hit the shower and get back to the Station.”
At the thought of Colt in the shower, Josie sighed again, this time louder.
He let me go, slid a glance across a grinning Jessie and a stars-in-her-eyes Josie and walked out of the kitchen and through the living room. Jessie, Josie and I watched him go. I was concentrating so hard on watching him move, I didn’t note where their eyes were fixed. Personally, I was having trouble deciding where to put my own. Colt was a big guy and there was a lot to see, all of it good. He’d need to walk down a football field for you to have time to get it all in.
I turned, opened the cupboard, grabbed a mug and poured him some joe before following him with a, “Be back in a sec,” aimed at the girls.
When I hit the bedroom, Colt was standing by the bed and staring at the large pile of black clothes Jessie had brought over for me to go through in an effort to find something respectable to wear to Amy’s funeral. Wilson was curled into a ball in the middle of the pile and he was ignoring Colt and me. It was morning naptime which fed naturally into afternoon naptime after which there was a short period of energy during the evening where sometimes he’d run around the house like a mad cat and others he’d just wander around meowing for no reason before it was time to bed down for the night.
“They’re Jessie’s,” I told Colt, explaining the pile of clothes and handing him the mug of coffee.
“She movin’ in too?” Colt asked, eyes still on the clothes, lifting the coffee to his lips but I had stopped breathing.
What did he mean “too”?
Was I moving in? Did he want me to move in? Did I want to move in?
We’d been back together for four days. I thought that was pretty much the definition of “too soon”. Then again, we’d known each other for thirty-nine years and that was undeniably the definition of “about f**king time”.
“Feb,” Colt called and my body jolted before I focused on him.
“What?”
“You were starin’ at me like I’d grown a second head.”
“Um…” I started then decided to shy away from the subject, “I asked Jessie to bring them over. I only own bar clothes. I don’t have anything to wear to the funeral.”
“You looked nice in that jeans skirt the other night.”
“I can’t wear a jeans skirt to a funeral,” I informed him, though I knew this was a wasted effort. Women shouldn’t bother saying things to men about the intricate rules of clothing, such as what was appropriate to wear and when. It wasn’t that men didn’t listen. It was that they were genetically programmed not to process such statements, “And anyway, I bought that to go with you to Costa’s. That’s my Costa’s with Colt Skirt.”
“You bought it to go to Costa’s?”
“Well, I didn’t. I sent Jessie on a mission.”
I was not monitoring what I was saying, I was still freaking out about the “movin’ in too” comment. If I was, I would have never told him I sent Jessie on a mission to buy an outfit for a date with him. It exposed too much.
He grinned again. This grin communicated two things too. One, he thought I was funny. Two, he knew I liked him, a lot, and he was feeling full of himself.
“Don’t you need to take a shower?” I asked.
He kept grinning through the word, “Yeah.”
I motioned to the bathroom with my head before I started to turn, saying, “Well, there’s crime to be fought, get a move on.”
I didn’t get to the door before he caught me, pulled me back into his body and bent his head to kiss my neck.
Then in my ear, he said, “I remember everything about you and I remember all the reasons why I loved you. Never could forget even when I tried.” I sucked in breath, unprepared for this stealth attack, while he went on. “Who knows, baby? We had all that time together, I coulda got used to it, learned to take it for granted.” His arms gave me a squeeze. “Now, that’ll never happen.”
I felt tears hit my eyes and there were a lot of things I wanted to do. Turn and kiss him. Wrap him in my arms so tight his body would be forced to absorb mine. Rip off his clothes and show him how much I loved him using my hands and my mouth. Or simply tell him I loved him, I had since the moment I set eyes on him and I never stopped.
Instead of any of these, I warned, “Colt, it’s eight forty-five and I haven’t cried yet today. I got a funeral to go to this afternoon. Don’t spoil my run early.”
He ignored me.
“We’ll settle this now,” he said and I braced because I didn’t know what we were settling. It was a good idea to brace because what we were settling rocked my world. “Call your landlord today, tell ‘im you’re givin’ up your lease. You gotta sublet for awhile, fine.”
“Colt –”
“Your Dad, Morrie and I’ll get your shit gradually. Spend some time today sorting it and mark the stuff priority that you need over here.”
“Colt –”
“I don’t give a shit where you put my stuff, what we’ve got double, what you decide to throw away.”
Well, that would mean he’d have matching mugs. I’d travelled light for fifteen years but indulged on a killer set of stoneware when I moved home. It cost a whack and I wasn’t home much to use it but I liked knowing I had it.
I turned to him when he hit the kitchen and got close. Instead of smiling at me, he put a hand to the side of my neck and used it to pull me toward him and up. I went on my toes and he touched his mouth to mine. I heard, straight out, Josie’s loud sigh and I nearly rolled my eyes but that might make Colt do more than a lip touch and I liked Josie, I didn’t want her to expire from delight in Colt’s dining area.
“You catch ‘em?” I asked when he lifted his head.
“Baby, I just left the crime scene.”
“So? I thought you were Superman.”
He grinned and his grin communicated two things. One, he thought I was funny. Two, he was remembering our conversation last night. I felt warmth hit my cheeks and other more intimate places and found that, two minutes before I was happy for all the company I had. Just then, I wished they’d all go away.
His fingers at my neck gave me a squeeze and he said, “Gotta hit the shower and get back to the Station.”
At the thought of Colt in the shower, Josie sighed again, this time louder.
He let me go, slid a glance across a grinning Jessie and a stars-in-her-eyes Josie and walked out of the kitchen and through the living room. Jessie, Josie and I watched him go. I was concentrating so hard on watching him move, I didn’t note where their eyes were fixed. Personally, I was having trouble deciding where to put my own. Colt was a big guy and there was a lot to see, all of it good. He’d need to walk down a football field for you to have time to get it all in.
I turned, opened the cupboard, grabbed a mug and poured him some joe before following him with a, “Be back in a sec,” aimed at the girls.
When I hit the bedroom, Colt was standing by the bed and staring at the large pile of black clothes Jessie had brought over for me to go through in an effort to find something respectable to wear to Amy’s funeral. Wilson was curled into a ball in the middle of the pile and he was ignoring Colt and me. It was morning naptime which fed naturally into afternoon naptime after which there was a short period of energy during the evening where sometimes he’d run around the house like a mad cat and others he’d just wander around meowing for no reason before it was time to bed down for the night.
“They’re Jessie’s,” I told Colt, explaining the pile of clothes and handing him the mug of coffee.
“She movin’ in too?” Colt asked, eyes still on the clothes, lifting the coffee to his lips but I had stopped breathing.
What did he mean “too”?
Was I moving in? Did he want me to move in? Did I want to move in?
We’d been back together for four days. I thought that was pretty much the definition of “too soon”. Then again, we’d known each other for thirty-nine years and that was undeniably the definition of “about f**king time”.
“Feb,” Colt called and my body jolted before I focused on him.
“What?”
“You were starin’ at me like I’d grown a second head.”
“Um…” I started then decided to shy away from the subject, “I asked Jessie to bring them over. I only own bar clothes. I don’t have anything to wear to the funeral.”
“You looked nice in that jeans skirt the other night.”
“I can’t wear a jeans skirt to a funeral,” I informed him, though I knew this was a wasted effort. Women shouldn’t bother saying things to men about the intricate rules of clothing, such as what was appropriate to wear and when. It wasn’t that men didn’t listen. It was that they were genetically programmed not to process such statements, “And anyway, I bought that to go with you to Costa’s. That’s my Costa’s with Colt Skirt.”
“You bought it to go to Costa’s?”
“Well, I didn’t. I sent Jessie on a mission.”
I was not monitoring what I was saying, I was still freaking out about the “movin’ in too” comment. If I was, I would have never told him I sent Jessie on a mission to buy an outfit for a date with him. It exposed too much.
He grinned again. This grin communicated two things too. One, he thought I was funny. Two, he knew I liked him, a lot, and he was feeling full of himself.
“Don’t you need to take a shower?” I asked.
He kept grinning through the word, “Yeah.”
I motioned to the bathroom with my head before I started to turn, saying, “Well, there’s crime to be fought, get a move on.”
I didn’t get to the door before he caught me, pulled me back into his body and bent his head to kiss my neck.
Then in my ear, he said, “I remember everything about you and I remember all the reasons why I loved you. Never could forget even when I tried.” I sucked in breath, unprepared for this stealth attack, while he went on. “Who knows, baby? We had all that time together, I coulda got used to it, learned to take it for granted.” His arms gave me a squeeze. “Now, that’ll never happen.”
I felt tears hit my eyes and there were a lot of things I wanted to do. Turn and kiss him. Wrap him in my arms so tight his body would be forced to absorb mine. Rip off his clothes and show him how much I loved him using my hands and my mouth. Or simply tell him I loved him, I had since the moment I set eyes on him and I never stopped.
Instead of any of these, I warned, “Colt, it’s eight forty-five and I haven’t cried yet today. I got a funeral to go to this afternoon. Don’t spoil my run early.”
He ignored me.
“We’ll settle this now,” he said and I braced because I didn’t know what we were settling. It was a good idea to brace because what we were settling rocked my world. “Call your landlord today, tell ‘im you’re givin’ up your lease. You gotta sublet for awhile, fine.”
“Colt –”
“Your Dad, Morrie and I’ll get your shit gradually. Spend some time today sorting it and mark the stuff priority that you need over here.”
“Colt –”
“I don’t give a shit where you put my stuff, what we’ve got double, what you decide to throw away.”
Well, that would mean he’d have matching mugs. I’d travelled light for fifteen years but indulged on a killer set of stoneware when I moved home. It cost a whack and I wasn’t home much to use it but I liked knowing I had it.
