Surprises

They had only been married three months, three wonderful months and now she found herself pregnant. She hadn’t thought it possible not after all the trouble she had getting pregnant and carrying a child to term when she had been married to Charlie. Six miscarriages and then little Taylor, the only baby that had made it almost to full term. He had been born sickly and died barely two years later. She still could see the devastation on Charlie’s face. He took Taylor’s death worse than she did or perhaps she was merely better at hiding it. She suspected Taylor’s death contributed to Charlie’s own early demise. His faulty heart was surely weakened by grief.

But what now? Here she was with an unplanned pregnancy. She and Mark had never discussed the possibility of  having a child. How would he feel about becoming a father? He and Patty never had children, but she never asked if that had been planned. What if he resolutely didn’t want the responsibility of a child? But she might not have to worry about that nor to worry him yet, she thought sagely. She would probably have another miscarriage and Mark need be none the wiser. She should spare him that. She would try not to show her disappointment of losing  yet another child.

She turned her head on her pillow and watched Mark sleep, steadily breathing, barely making a sound. How different he was from Charlie whose snores could have easily called to ships out at sea. And she had thought Charlie so handsome but Mark was exceptional and such a joy to be around. She had never laughed so much. Charlie had been the brooding type, far too serious. But then that came from all the disappointments of having no progeny to leave to this world. He had so wanted that as much if not more than Trudy.

Just then a surge of nausea attacked her stomach in a violent wave. She rushed to the bathroom and barely made it. Her swift movement, however, shook Mark awake in an instant. He heard her awful retching and grimaced.

“Trudy, you okay?” he asked starting to climb out of bed but she reemerged and sat solemnly at the end of the bed with her hand on her still queasy tummy. “Sweetheart, you said you were better yesterday. It can’t be food poisoning as you said. I should take you into work with me so you can see someone at the hospital,” he said anxiously. He peered into her face concern furrowing his brow. “Have any other symptoms?”

She smiled ruefully. How silly of her to think she could actually keep a pregnancy from a brilliant surgeon like Mark. “I don’t need to see anyone to know what this is,” she said quietly.

He raised his eyebrows. “Gain a medical degree in your sleep, have you?” he said smirking.

“Women have rarely needed a doctor to know,”  She took his hand in both of hers. “Mark, I’m sorry. We never talked about this, the possibility of it, but... I’m pregnant.”

The emotions that crossed his handsome features were many and varied.  Astonishment, wonder, disbelief and a fleeting look of happiness could all be detected but the predominant one was concern .

“Oh, my love, I’m sorry. I never thought...you said it was virtually impossible and... oh, what will this do to you?”he said with self-reproach.

“Don’t worry about me, Mark. I’m used to...”  She stopped and attempted a smile which collapsed upon the realization she wanted this baby beyond all the others. She was in her forties now. Surely, this  would be her last chance.

“Trudy, no one gets used to losing a child,” he said gently. “How far along are you?”

“Two months, maybe three,” she replied stoically.

“Three? Why haven’t you told me?” he shouted angrily.

“I figured I would spontaneously abort  like always happens and I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want you angry at me,” she said timidly.

“Well, I am. You should have told me right away, as soon as you suspected. You need to see a doctor right away so you don’t lose this one.”

“So, you’re not angry about the baby itself?” she asked apprehensively.

“About the baby? Why should I be?” he replied dumbfounded.

“Well, we never spoke of it. I thought you and Patty never wanted kids.”

“We  just never got around to it. Too busy with careers. We didn’t want to bring a child into a chaotic life like we were living. But I always thought we would eventually. But then she died so suddenly and...my last chance went with her. At least I thought it did,” he said smiling.

Tears welled in her eyes and her lips trembled. “But you’re not going to get a chance with me either, Mark. I’ve failed each time. Taylor was as close as I got and...” Tears spilled onto her cheeks

“Trudy, no, don’t cry,” he said taking her into his arms and holding her gently, “You won’t fail this time. I won’t let you. We need to get you in to see Gail Broderick. She’s the best in maternal medicine. She can help you.”  He suddenly looked at her frowning. “You do want this child, don’t you?”

Did he really have to ask?  “I’m afraid to hope, Mark. I don’t want to do to you what I did to Charlie. Each time killed him a little.”

“A little bit of hope never went to waste. Let’s get dressed and go see Gail. She’ll tell us and who knows? A few months from now we might be holding our own little cutie,” he said happily.

“But what if...”

He cut her off. “None of that. If the worst happens and we lose him or her...would you consider adoption?”

Her eyes widened. “Really?” she asked, incredulous. “You would want to?”

He smiled indulgently. “I think you’d make an awesome mother and I might not be so bad as a dad. What do you think?”

She smiled and put her arms around his neck kissing him. “I love you, Mark.”

“Not nearly as much as I love you. Let’s go see about our baby,” he said getting up and pulling her with him.

Need

Trudy watched Mark close the door between them and promptly started crying. She needed him with her, needed to be held by him, needed it more than anything. But there was a ghost in the way. Mark felt it and she felt it. 

She sat down in her rocking chair with tears streaming down her face. She stared at the pictures cluttering the top of Charlie’s piano. Charlie stared back at her grinning at the marina, sitting morosely at the dock with a fishing pole in hand, at their wedding with his arm around his brother, on the boat holding up a trout and asleep in the hammock with their angel, little Taylor, cuddled on his chest. They were both in heaven now. And Trudy was all alone.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” she muttered as more tears fell along her cheeks. She suddenly got up and took up the picture of Charlie holding Taylor delicately in his arms. She had never seen him so happy. She assumed he’d be happy now that he had Taylor in his arms again.

“I want to be happy, too,” she mumbled quietly. “Would you mind, Charlie? If I...”   She bit her lip.  She couldn’t ask him that. But she needed to stop the pain inside and Mark was helping to finally do that.

“You know I’ll always love you, Charlie. But it’s so lonesome without you. Cindy introduced me to Mark and he’s such a nice man. He said he knew you,” she said to the picture. She paused as if to allow him a reply. None came and she continued. “He says he loves me and....I love him, too. Please, don’t be mad at me. I want...I need to...to let go of you.”

She collapsed onto the sofa, still clutching the picture to her chest and cried herself to sleep.

“Trudy? Come on, Baby, wake up.”

She blinked and stared up at Charlie, the real Charlie. “Did I die?” she asked stupidly.

He chuckled. “No, funny girl. This is just a dream. I just wanted to see you one last time. I brought Taylor.” 

She gasped as Taylor wobbled over to her dragging his baby blanket with him. He grinned up at her. “He’s wanted to see you for a while now, but I told him we had to wait for the right time.”

She scooped him up and held on tightly more tears leaking out of her eyes as the tiny tot hugged and kissed her. She couldn’t speak. She didn’t have to.

“Mama,” Taylor said playing with her hair. His tiny fingers tangled up in her honey-colored locks.

“Oh, my sweet angel,” she whispered, showering him with kisses.

“He’s fine now. No heart trouble at all. Me neither for that matter,” Charlie said grinning. He sat down next to her and kissed her salty, wet cheek.  “I’ll take care of him until you can meet us, Trudy. But in the mean time I want you to marry Mark. You’re right. He is a good guy. He’ll take care of you and you’ll take care of him.”

“Really, Charlie? You don’t mind? I’ll always love you. Nothing will make me stop,” she said adamantly as Taylor cuddled with her.

“Of course I don’t mind and neither does Patty. We’ve met up in heaven. She was hoping you two would get together.”

She gaped open mouthed. “Patty? Mark’s Patty?”

“I don’t know any other,” he retorted grinning, “ You gotta be happy, too. He’s happy and you’re happy now that Cindy brought you together. But you have to sell the house. There’s too many memories in here and I don’t want them getting in your way. My cousin Frank would probably like to buy it still. Ask him, okay?”

“I will, Charlie. Thank you. Thank you for coming to me and bringing Taylor. I missed you both so much,” she said.

Charlie’s face fell. “I miss you, too, Trudy, but we have to go now,” he said sadly. He took Taylor from her and stood up.

“So soon? Please, stay a little more,” she pleaded.

“Can’t, Sweetie. Mark’s gonna be here soon and he won’t want to see me,” he said. “Just go back to sleep and start your new life, okay? We’ll always love you, Trudy.  Taylor, say bye-bye to Mommy, bye-bye....”

A hard knocking awoke her. She sat up and found herself on the sofa with Taylor’s baby blanket over her chest. How did that get here? The knocking continued followed by Mark’s anxious voice.

“Trudy! Are you all right?” he said apprehensively.

She cleared her head and went to the front door opening it. “Hi, Mark,” she said blinking the sleep out of her eyes. “Kind of early for our date, isn’t it?” she said smiling.

He kissed her lightly and took her hand. He instantly noticed her wedding band was gone and looked up with the silent query.

“Uh...where did it go?” she asked looking around the floor. She went to the sofa where she slept and found it on top of the picture of Charlie and Taylor. “That’s weird. I don’t ...oh...” she said suddenly remembering the dream. She glanced at the picture and back at Mark.  “I was saying good-bye,” she explained. She bent down and picked up the picture replacing it on the piano. The piano would have to stay.

Mark smiled and  took her hand. He went down on his knees. “Will you marry me, Trudy?” he asked kissing her hand.

She gaped at him blinking stupidly. She wasn’t certain she was awake yet. “Am I dreaming?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I need you like I need to breath. I want you, all of you for always. I want you to be the last thing I see when I close my eyes at night and the first thing I see when morning comes. Please, marry me and make me so happy.”

She smiled and nodded slowly. He stood up and pulled her into his arms sighing in relief. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Starting over

Mark walked around to the passenger side and helped Trudy out. She stood mere inches from him yet it was entirely too far for his liking. She must have read it in his eyes. She smiled and stepped closer.

"You shouldn't look at me like that, Trudy," he said bracingly.

She looked up at him, the questioning in her eyes, but said nothing. She often said nothing yet got her point across quite nicely.

"You look like you want me to kiss you and I'm not certain that's a good idea. I might not be able to stop there," he said, only partly kidding. 

His desire for her was mounting with every breath he took. She smiled again and went up on tiptoes. She teased his lips with the merest touch of hers. That was his undoing. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her hard against him. He ran his hand down her back taking her shawl with him. It dropped to the ground but neither one cared. They were too entrenched in desire to worry about it. They kissed passionately, seeking to get into each other's skin, each other's soul, each other's hearts. 

Several minutes later Mark roughly pulled away breathing hard and fast. His heart danced around wildly."We better say good night before... we just better say good night," he mumbled as he took her hand and they walked up her steps. She unlocked her door, turned back to him and smiled again. She took his hand and gestured for him to follow her in. 

He shook his head saying, "Sweetheart, you don't seem to understand. I can't...."

"Stay with me, please, Mark," she said softly.

Mark stared at her, incredulous. He had only just told her he was in love with her that evening. And that was enough for her? She was entirely too trusting or was it that she loved him too? She hadn't said as much, but then she didn't have to. He felt it in her kiss, in the way she clung to him, in the way she looked at him with those hypnotizing blue eyes. He blindly followed her in and closed the door behind him. She led the way into the house, down the hall and into her bedroom. But they paused at the threshold. They weren't alone.

It was nothing they saw. It was nothing other than a sensing of a presence, a ghost perhaps. It was Charlie. He was there as assuredly as they were. This was his house, the one Trudy had shared with him for over twenty years. Two years of him being gone from it, from earth itself, hadn't dulled his ownership nor his claim to it and to Trudy. They both sensed this and the passion quickly passed as if it never existed. They stared at each other for a second holding hands. He ran his thumb over her wedding band and she did the same with his. They weren't ready for this, not here, not now. 

Then, as one, they turned back down the hall and to the front door. There he caressed her cheek and gazed longingly into her eyes. 

"May I see you tomorrow?" he asked quietly. Was he afraid to disturb the ghost? 

She nodded, went up on tiptoe again and kissed him lightly. "I love you, Mark," she whispered against his lips. Her eyes glistened. 

It took all his strength to pull away from her, close the door behind him and march with purpose to his car. He knew what he had to do. He had to start over.

He arrived home, flicked on the switch flooding the house with light. He felt it there, too. A definite presence. He never noticed it before. Why should he now? He went into his bedroom and stared into her face, his darling Patty. He snatched up the picture with tears in his eyes. He kissed the picture and held it over his heart. Two years and he still missed her desperately. He looked back at her smiling face.

"I'll always love you, Patty, but I'm lonely. I found Trudy and she's...I fell in love with her. Is that all right?" he whispered anxiously.

"Yes, it is," a voice sounding just like Patty spoke in his head, "I want you to be happy. Don't worry about me. Do what you have to, to get together with Trudy. She'll be good for you and you for her."

He replaced the picture frame on his night stand and pulled open her closet. He would get Cindy here to take what she liked. Cindy was almost a full eight inches shorter than Patty but he was certain the dresses would fit her well and most of them were almost new. The rest could go to the church for their clothing give-away. He closed the door again and looked around. That wasn't all that had to be changed. He went to the jewelry box and opened it. He gazed down at over twenty years of birthday, anniversary, St. Valentine's, Christmas, and just-because-I-love-you presents. Cindy would love these too. 

She would think him totally bonkers giving away all of this to her. But she was his dearest cousin, more like a sister and practically his best friend. She introduced him to Trudy after all. He owed her everything for making him so happy after two years of misery. Yes, she deserved all this and more.

He took a deep breath, closed over the cherry wood box and went through the house stopping for a few minutes in each room. Patty was everywhere. In every nook and cranny of the house he saw her, felt her. He had to call a real estate agent. To start over again he would have to do it. Patty would understand, but would Trudy? Would she be willing to sell her home and move to another one with him? Of course, before he asked her to do that he needed to ask her to marry him. That's what he truly wanted. Would she though? 

He looked down at his wedding band and reluctantly pulled it off. It had never been off since Patty placed it there all those years ago. It felt so final now. Patty, the love of his life, was truly gone, but not forgotten, never forgotten.He placed the ring on a gold chain he found in the jewelry box and hung it on Patty's picture frame. He hoped Trudy wouldn't mind him keeping this tiny, little bit of his past.

A Kiss

Trudy helped find books for the tiny kids to whom she had just finished reading. She might have  read more of the many adventures of the not-yet-famous Tiffle the Troll, her own creation, but she had to get home to get ready. Mark was coming.

She giggled as she recalled how he came by at noon.  She had her back to the door and hadn’t heard him come in. Her eyes were glued to a story on this fascinating new website she stumbled across called Helium. She considered posting her Tiffle the Troll stories there when Mark rapped sharply on the counter saying in a loud, brusque voice “Is this the place where they keep these ancient things called books?”

She turned and laughed. Mrs. Tannenbaum, the head librarian and ruler of all things literary, automatically put forefinger to pursed lips and shushed them disapprovingly. Trudy swiftly grabbed his arm pulling him away before he got whacked in the head with the encyclopedia Britannica like some people got for disturbing Mrs. Tannenbaum’s peace.

“You goofy guy. You’re going to get me fired,” she said smiling up at him. He was so incredibly handsome. He made her toes tingle when he smiled and he always smiled. He was so very different from Charlie but then they would be. Mark was a doctor and Charlie had owned a marina. Mark was always joking around and talked freely. Charlie was a brooder and rarely said anything funny or otherwise. But then Trudy never needed for him to talk to get his message across. They could almost read each other’s mind. Countless people had unwisely assumed they were giving each other the silent treatment, but it just had been their way.

 She left the library decidedly happier than she had been in a long time. She knew it was all due to Mark. She had yet to figure how best to thank Cindy for forcing her to go out with her cousin, Mark. According to her, he had been similarly reticent about dating after the death of his darling Patty.

It was nice to speak with someone who knew what it was like to lose their soul mate. None of her other friends did. They had their husbands alive and well and those that were divorced actually wished death on the exes. Mark had been the only one who understood. They were good friends now and yet....She had been having much more than friendly dreams about him. But he didn’t want that. At least she didn’t think so. He had been a perfect gentleman these past three months. Surely if he had wanted more he would have said something. He talked about everything else with remarkable candor.

Perhaps he kept his distance because of what she said even before their first date started. Her cheeks still suffused with color when she thought of how she vehemently told him in no uncertain terms she was not going to jump into bed with him. She almost regretted it, almost. She wasn’t delusional after all. She was well passed her prime years, definitely on the down side of peak, though she still looked relatively good. Many said she looked ten years younger than her actual age but she just assumed they were either blind or extra nice.

Mark was one of those. Blind or extra nice, she couldn’t tell which. But she did often catch him just gazing at her as if she was a fascinating painting. And when she smiled a strange light came into his ever-changing eyes. Cindy had said they were hazel but that wasn’t quite right. In a certain light they were green flecked, in another golden brown and sometimes streaked with silver or amber. They were fascinating to watch and she was certain he thought her a bit daft for it. He usually passed his hand in front of her eyes when she couldn’t stop staring into them.

They were going to The French Manor again, the restaurant they went on their first date. It seemed to be their place now. Charlie had never taken her to such a place. He was more the jeans and t-shirt, casual dining kind of guy.

Trudy stood before her closet in bra and panties wondering what to wear. She had always dressed conservatively but tonight she wanted to break out and start showing some interest in romance.  Dressing provocatively might do it. She could almost hear Cindy now.

“So, taking the “Desperate Housewife” route, are you? About time,” she’d say with her usual sparkling laughter.

She donned a daring little dress bare in the back but her bra  showed. Okay, no bra. Can’t get much more “Desperate Housewife” daring than that. God help her if he ran for the hills because she jiggled too much. Not likely. Men liked jiggle. Charlie had.

Mark arrived promptly as always, his eyes a smokey greyish green, his expression unreadable when  his eyes swept over her. “You look wonderful. You make me feel like that Troll you were telling me about.” he said casually. Then he smiled and her heart skipped a beat. She felt warm all over at his praise.   

She giggled shyly and grabbed her shawl. He took it from her and gently draped it over her shoulders ever-so-lightly touching her bare arms. His breath caressing her neck sent rippled waves through her. Every nerve ending seemed on high alert.

They talked amicably all through dinner. She had been hopelessly gazing into his eyes, now flecked with green and gold from the candle light, when he hesitantly asked her  to dance. She stupidly blinked several times and pondered the question. She loved dancing and would certainly enjoy being in his arms swaying softly to the romantic music, but did she dare? She didn’t know if she could refrain from acting the trollop.

He held out his hand in invitation. But did that invitation include what she was thinking? How would those smooth hands feel against her skin, running all over her curves and stalling at strategic  locations? Would he ever want to? Not likely. She saw his wedding band glimmering as if to mock her. How could she possibly compare to his Patty? She had been everyone’s dream girl, a perfect combination of Ginger, with her fiery, curly, red hair and tall glamorous figure and Marianne with her adorable, funny, bubbly personality. Mark had loved her completely as she had loved her Charlie. No, he would never think of her like that. More’s the pity.

“Trudy? Did you hear me?” he asked, quietly intruding into her morose thoughts. She snatched her gaze away from those mesmerizing hands and looked up. She didn’t even try to hide her longing. She was in love with him. It only just hit her. She smiled and placed her hand in his, silently telling him he could have all of her if he cared.

She suddenly realized her lungs needed sustenance. She forgot to breath. She drew in a shaky breath and slowly answered,  “Yes, I’d like to dance.”

She brazenly stepped into his arms and wished he’d pull her in closer. She wanted to feel him especially without clothing. She should have been ashamed of where her thoughts were going but she wasn’t. She moved closer until very sensitive parts of her touched him. A flame ignited within her but she hardly cared to temper it.

Feeling secure in his arms she mumbled, “I like this song.”    

He pulled her a bit closer and joy leapt inside her. She felt his warm hand on her back and felt halfway to ecstacy. She also felt his heart beating quick and hard. This frightened her. All she could think of was Charlie gasping for air as the heart attack took him from her.

“Please, not again!” her thoughts screamed.

She pulled back and looked up at him. He looked dazed and...something else. She couldn’t tell what.  “Mark?” she said fearfully.

“I love you, Trudy,” he muttered wildly. “I’m sorry if it’s too soon or if I’m scaring you but...God help me. I love you. I dream about you all the time. I want you near me, with me always, forever. Please don’t hate me. I’m too old to play games and life’s too short not to take a chance.”

Was she hearing right? He loved her? Elation swept over her. Her eyes misted. She had to tell him all she felt for him. But her voice wouldn’t work. She simply had to kiss him. That would say it all, wouldn’t it? And what if he thought her wanton? She truly didn’t care. She reached up caressing his cheek then kissed him, a fleeting, barely-there meeting of lips yet conveying all her love. But would he understand?

 “Trudy,” he whispered then took her hard against his chest tangling his fingers feverishly in her hair and kissing her soundly. Passion flared unbidden between them and they were lost, lost in a kiss.

A Dance

“Would....would you like to...to dance?” Mark asked, equally hopeful and apprehensive. If Trudy said yes he’d be afraid of doing something stupid to ruin things. No, not like step on her toes. He was rather confident of his dancing ability. He just didn’t trust himself to be the gentleman anymore. They had been seeing each other for three months and his dreams from that first night out were filled with her beautiful baby-blue eyes, her dark honey-colored, vanilla-scented hair and her flawless, creamy skin. He had wanted to revel in all of her from the very beginning.

But he knew he had to take it slow and easy, not only for his sake but mostly for hers. He still smiled remembering how nervous she had been on their first date. Even before stepping out of her house she had blurted out “I don’t have sex.”  His first reaction had been to retort  “Ever?” but he had known exactly what she meant.

He had been out with enough of these...what did his cousin Cindy call them? Oh, yes, Sex-in-the-city-tramps. It mattered not that they lived in a rural little town either. Every woman he met seemed to want sex before they said hello. He had been startled, bewildered, horrified at the aggressiveness of these ...dare he call them ladies? Being married to Patty for over twenty years had shielded him from all that. Her sudden death had shoved him unceremoniously into that world completely unaware and helpless as a puppy in mid-morning traffic.

Trudy had been a breath of fresh, and wonderfully old-fashioned, air. He desperately wanted to inhale all of her into him. He gulped as he stared at her in the candle light. He mustn’t think of such things now. Oh boy, it was difficult with her looking at him like that. Her eyes looked like crystalline pools at the base of a perfect waterfall. He got the sudden urge to rip off his clothes and dive in.

But what if she said no? What if she didn’t want to dance, to be touched, to be held in his arms? That would be even worse. It would mean she still felt unsure about him, uncertain of his intentions and possibly afraid of going further. They were friends now and she seemed happy with that, but wouldn’t more be better? Dare he ask for more? Would she be ready? Would she ever?

She had been married to Charlie as long as he had been to Patty. She was still heartbroken over his equally sudden death. It was this shared tragedy that brought them together in the first place. She had been friends with Patty and he with Charlie though neither of them knew the other until Cindy asked them both for a favor.

That Cindy! What a little match-maker she turned out to be. She had been instrumental in the sudden joy Mark felt every morning when he awoke, she and her meddling, sisterly love for him. And to think, he fought tooth and nail to get out of taking Trudy out that first night. He dreaded it like the plague and now he couldn’t imagine a day without at least stopping by the library during his  break to just say hello to Trudy.  Life was strange like that.

He held his hand out awaiting her reply. She simply stared at his hand. She always stared at his hands. He wondered why that was. He didn’t see anything wrong with them...unless... Was it the wedding ring he still wore? She still wore hers. Did that mean something? He was certain it did. Too bad he didn’t have a clue what it could be.

“Trudy? Did you hear me?” he asked quietly. She looked up and the way she gazed at him made the breath catch in his throat. She smiled. Butterflies erupted into flight in his chest. If he didn’t know better he’d swear he was in love. Perhaps he didn’t know better.

“Yes, I’d like to dance,” she said after an eternity. “ It’s been a while. My niece’s wedding I think.” she added thoughtfully.

She placed her soft, warm hand in his and they stood. He led her to the dance floor. His hand at the small of her back sent tingles up his arm and dispersed into a thousand points of light within him. She turned into his arms with her hand brushing against his collar. Damn that collar! If it wasn’t for that he’d feel her touch directly on his skin. He wrapped his arm around her waist. Dare he pull her closer? She moved towards him with no encouragement. His heart skipped a beat. His hand inched up her back until he felt her bare skin. Were dress designers intent on killing him and his resolve to be a gentleman? Sure seemed like it.

Her silky hair brushed against his chin. He bent slightly down to let the tantalizing sensation happen again. Patty had been taller than Trudy and her riotous curls had always tickled him. He remembered it fondly. Trudy’s simply left a sensual trail long after contact. Even at this safe distance, bodies resolutely not touching, he could feel the heat from hers. Or was it from him?

“I like this song,” she whispered in his ear. Her breath caused ripples to run down his spine setting a fire somewhere along the way. Only then did he remember to breath. Her hips swayed minutely closer. Their thighs touched, her chest brushed against his. Delightful torture, that’s what dancing is. He closed his eyes and pulled her closer. His hands were not obeying him at all and he couldn’t stop them to save his life. He could die this way and he’d be perfectly content.

“Mark?” she said pulling back and looking up at him.

He merely stared longingly into those crystalline blue eyes and it burst out of him before he could stop himself. “I love you, Trudy.” he murmured, half astonished, half scared to death. “I’m sorry if it’s too soon or if I’m scaring you but...God help me. I love you. I dream about you all the time. I want you near me, with me always, forever. Please don’t hate me. I’m too old to play games and life’s too short not to take a chance.”

He stared at her fearful yet wishing for a miracle. Those crystalline pools seemed in danger of overflowing suddenly. To his astonishment she went up on tip toes and kissed him, a sweet, soft-as-air kiss but one he felt down to his toes and back again. She pulled back and stared up at him looking as amazed as he did.

His heart danced the Irish jig in his chest and he wasn’t even Irish. “Trudy...” he said before recapturing her lips and kissing her passionately. He held her fast against him and she clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer still. If he didn’t know better he would swear she loved him too.

Oh, yeah, he really didn’t know any better.

Waiting to fall

“You look chipper,” Dave said during a commercial break. He stuffed chips into his mouth and watched his cousin-in-law shrewdly.

“Do I? Must be because I don’t care if the Broncos lose,” Mark retorted smirking.

“You’re getting some, aren’t you?” Dave asked grinning. “About time. It’s been two years since Patty died. Good to know you didn’t die along with her.” He saw Mark’s grin vanish and replaced with his usual disapproving scowl. Dave knew he considered him a cretin. You’d think he’d get used to it by now. They’d known each other since they were kids. Dave had been a cretin then, too.

Mark gnashed his teeth together, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled counting to ten before he answered, if he chose to answer. Sometimes he didn’t. He learned this trick from Patty who always had to deal with disagreeable people.  Dave could be disagreeable without even trying.

 “No, I’m not,” Mark replied stoically.

Dave stuffed more chips into his mouth getting crumbs all over the sofa and said,   “Come on, Mark. Cindy told me about you and Trudy. You've been dating her for what? three weeks?”

“And how does that equate with...how did you so crudely put it? Getting some?” Mark asked irritably.

“Trudy’s a librarian,” Dave said as if that explained it all.

Mark frowned. “So?” he asked.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Dave asked, incredulous.

“You might have to....unfortunately,” Mark muttered. He already wished he’d just ignored the first question.

“It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for. They’re wild in bed once the glasses come off and the hair is let down,” Dave said wisely.

Mark groaned inwardly. He truly didn’t want to get into that with this guy. Dave could turn a Disney movie into an erotic flick without even blinking. “She doesn’t wear glasses and I’ve only ever seen her with her hair down,”he replied calmly.

“See? I knew you were getting some,” Dave retorted carelessly.

“We’re just friends,” Mark said sternly.

“She must be good. Charlie couldn’t keep his hands off her. Not that I blame him. She is hot,” Dave said completely ignoring his friend. “You should get on that before someone takes your place. Only so many good ones out there and you can’t expect her to wait forever. Girls have needs too.”

“She’s not like that,” Mark snapped.

“Sure she is. She’s just playing hard to get so you don’t call her a ....”

“I would never call her anything except a wonderful person still grieving over her husband,” he cut in brusquely.

“It’s been over two years for her, same as you.”

“And yet it feels like only two months and sometimes, two weeks,” Mark said sadly.

Dave sighed. He felt bad for the guy. Would he ever get over his wife’s death? Well, not if he didn’t get some!  “Don’t you think she’s pretty?” he persisted.

Mark could see Trudy before his eyes as if the game on the huge flat-screen TV had been replaced by her image. She was beyond beautiful, from her  honey-colored head to her pretty little feet and everything in between. Her baby-blue eyes haunted his dreams. He awoke caressing his pillow and wishing it was her soft, creamy skin instead of the 400 thread count sheets. Her sweet smile ignited a flame deep in his gut whenever he thought of it. Her laughter delighted him. And oddly enough she liked to listen to him babble on incessantly.

It baffled him. She was so different from Patty.  He was used to Patty’s constant chatter and his need to fight to get a word in edgewise. It wasn’t like that with Trudy. Cindy had told him Trudy was quiet but he never imagined just how quiet and yet it didn’t matter. She could communicate without speech. He could tell what she meant with the slightest gesture, a subtle look and a scant few words. It was startlingly simple yet vastly complex.

She was fascinating, she and her silent language.  He wanted to study her like he had done with his medical books at school. Just watching the various expressions float across her face riveted him like a new surgical procedure.

 Patty had kept him centered and focused but when she died his world shifted precariously. A part of him had died along with her. Trudy had brought a balance back to him without him realizing it until now. He knew it was due to her, this feeling alive again. Just being in her presence eased the dull ache Patty’s death caused. If he didn’t know better he’d say he was falling in love. Yes, love did that.

He wished he could do the same for her but that wasn’t likely. He caught her with that far-off look in her eyes that he recognized as his own longing for Patty. She was surely thinking of her Charlie, the love of her life.

“You’re going out with her, so, you must like her,” Dave said, cutting into his thoughts.

“What?” Mark said, distracted.

“Trudy. Don’t you think she’s sexy?” Dave asked impatiently.

Sexy didn’t even begin to cover it but he wasn’t about to say that to a cretin like Dave. “She’s very nice.”

“Nice?” Dave shouted, incredulous.

“Yes, she’s attractive,” Mark relented.

“So why aren’t you getting it on with her?”

Losing his temper he blurted,  “Because I’m not a neanderthal. I can control my urges.”

“Yeah, but why would you want to?” Dave asked, baffled.

Mark had to count to fifteen that time before sternly saying, “Let’s just say I’m not fond of diseases. Comes from being around them all the time I suspect.”

“Trudy doesn’t have any diseases,” Dave retorted triumphantly.

Mark couldn’t argue with that. Trudy was as old fashioned as he was, perhaps more so.  If anyone didn’t carry a virus of some sort it was she. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to start having sex as exercise. I’ve only ever had sex when I was in love and that’s not changing now,” he stated firmly.

Dave got a funny look in his eyes all of a sudden.  “Sex as exercise,” he muttered slowly to himself. “Like instead of jogging or racket ball. Sweet!” 

He abruptly got up, went into the kitchen and shouted, “Cindy, how about a quicky? It’ll make me live longer. Doctor’s orders!”

Mark gaped at him and shook his head exasperated. Then he laughed when he heard Cindy shriek, “Are you insane? Mark’s here, you crazy loon!”

Mark was still laughing when Dave slumped back into his potato chip strewn seat.  “Maybe I’ll get some tonight,” he said before taking a swig from his beer bottle. “You should try it. It’ll be good for  both you and Trudy. Can’t be sad when you’re getting some,” he said wisely.

Mark couldn’t argue with that either, but it had only been a month since he started dating Trudy. There was no rushing things like this especially when he was waiting for love and not just the go ahead on sex.

Favors

Trudy paced the floor and rung her hands in agitation. How had she allowed Cindy to convince her to go on this date? Twenty-two years. That’s how long it had been since she was last on a date and that had been with Charlie. She still missed him, thought of him constantly and wished she could miraculously bring him back. The heart attack had been so sudden, so unexpected. She still reeled from it two years later. One doesn’t easily get over the death of their soul mate and Charlie was definitely her soul mate.

No matter what Cindy said, this was a blind date. A blind date! What was she thinking?

“You know my cousin Mark. He’s a resident at Formosa medical center where I work now,” Cindy told her.

“Who?” Trudy asked.

“Mark. You met him at Frankie’s birthday party last year. Remember? Tall, with medium brown hair, hazel eyes, real cute.”

“You just described your Dave,” Trudy said. “I don’t remember anyone named Mark.”

“Sure you do. He was married to Patty. She had you in stitches you were laughing so hard,” Cindy insisted.

“Patty Donovan? They’re divorced?” she asked suddenly interested.

“No, Sweetie. Haven’t you been listening? Patty died almost two years ago. I told you. It was just shortly after Charlie went,” Cindy said, her voice full of compassion.

Well that explained everything. Trudy hadn’t been able to think back then. Charlie, or rather the loss of him, made her almost catatonic. Nothing penetrated her skull then even though she went through the motions of every day life. She noticed nothing, not even the death of someone as lively as Patty used to be. Trudy very clearly saw Patty’s bright red hair and shining brown eyes. Her freckled nose and cheeks simply made her more adorable. What a joy she was, finding humor in everything, even making fun of herself. A sadness washed over Trudy thinking about it. Why was life so cruel?

Patty and Charlie were such wonderful people and yet there were hideous murderers and thieves running lose, wild, free and very much alive. How was that fair? It was no use asking. No answer would be satisfactory anyway. Her Charlie was gone and now there was a tiny hollow spot where Patty used to be too. She blinked away the tears that welled in her eyes.

She wracked her brain trying to picture Patty’s husband but she drew a blank. She was almost certain she had seen him, possibly even talked to him, but there was simply no memory of it. He just didn’t leave a mark. Ironic for someone named Mark.

As she continued pacing she had half a mind to call the whole thing off. More than half a mind if truth be told. She dreaded this worse than a root canal. She knew what the dating scene was like now. People jumped into bed without even knowing a person’s first name let alone a favorite color. Trudy wasn’t ready for that. She’d never be ready for that. How had Cindy talked her into this?

“Mark’s been miserable, Trudy. All he does is work too much and sit around at home watching sports. He barely even comes to my house anymore and he almost used to live there when Patty was alive. I thought, maybe, you could cheer him up by accompanying him to a play or movie or dinner. It would be a huge favor to me. He’s more like a brother. I love him so much and I want him to be happy again,” Cindy had said earnestly.  “This might break him out of this funk. You'll do this for me, won’t you?”

Cindy tugged at her heartstrings with that story. Trudy knew what it was like to be totally miserable, in complete despair. Several dozen dinners, movies and plays wouldn’t even begin to do anything to remove her sorrow, but men were more resilient. Perhaps just once would be the trick for this Mark guy. She certainly hoped for it. She didn’t want anyone, least of all Cindy’s cousin,  thinking she wanted a romp in the hay just because it had been a while since she was in anyone’s company other than her books at the library and the occasional bookworm.

Books she could handle. Men on the prowl, not so much. Just thinking about it made her start to hyperventilate. She tried to calm her wandering thoughts and just as she forced herself to sit in her usually comforting rocking chair the soft knock on the door made her jump as if she had sat on pointy nails.

“Oh, dear God, help me,” she muttered as she flung open the door.

She stared up at him. Yes, indeed he was tall just like Cindy said, but cute? Definitely not. He was knock-your-socks-off handsome. Mel Gibson came to mind. She was shaking, actually shaking! She felt an absolute imbecile staring at him mutely.

“Um...Mark?” she asked cautiously. Even her voice trembled.  All he did was nod. That wasn’t reassuring.  “You’re Cindy’s cousin?” she continued . Again he merely nodded.  Perhaps he was nervous too? “I’m sorry. She said we had met before but I don’t remember,” she told him apologetically.

He seemed to finally snap out of his trance. She wondered if he might have been less scary that way.

“I met Charlie. I was so sorry to hear he’s gone. I really liked him,” he said sympathetically. “Cindy said you knew my wife.”

Trudy attempted a smile. It looked more like a grimace. “I liked Patty. She was so funny. I’m so sorry.” she said sadly. They stared at each other in silence. She marveled that he could be lonely when he must have a dozen women coming onto him everyday.

“Well, I thought we could go to the French Manor for dinner and...” he started to say.

Panic seized her. “I don’t have sex,” she blurted out. She closed her eyes wishing the floor to swallow her whole. She then blushed scarlet, twisted her hands and bit her lip. What an idiot! She had done it now. He’d run for the hills before she could close the door. Cindy would hate her for ruining this for her favorite cousin. She had no idea how to fix this unless she tried good old-fashioned honesty. Unheard of, yes, but it might be the better way to go. Lies didn’t suit her nor was playing mind games. She chanced a glance and she saw him smiling indulgently.

 “Good to know,” he said. “ I once got my arm twisted until I promised I would. Luckily she may have forgotten about me by now.”  

What in the world did that mean? She gaped up at him, confused. He waved a dismissive hand and added  “Long story.”

Twisting arms aside she knew she had to explain herself. “I....I haven’t dated in twenty-two years. I don’t know anything about what’s expected and even if I did I still won’t do it. I’m very old-fashioned,” she said sternly.

His grin broadened making her breath catch in her chest. Even Mel Gibson never looked that good. “Finally a woman I can handle. No pressure. I like it already,” he replied, looking relieved.

She stared at him aghast. Was she hallucinating? He was okay with her severe declaration of no sex? And welcomed it? She must be dreaming.  Men like him supposedly don’t exist anymore.  Relief so great flooded through her she almost felt faint. She grabbed the door for support and tried to calm her breathing only to realize she had forgotten to breath. She sucked in some well-needed oxygen and concentrated on what he was saying.

“So...is dinner okay?” he asked tentatively.

She watched him hold out his hand. She stared at it mesmerized. It wasn’t at all calloused as Charlie’s were from rigging boats in and such work which went with owning a marina. Then she remembered Mark was a doctor. Not much chance of getting callouses working at a hospital.

 “I promise. I won’t bite. Cindy would kill me if I even breathed too hard around you. And she’ll know too without anyone telling her. She’s kinda spooky that way,” he said.

Yes, Cindy. Trudy had almost forgotten this was  supposed to be a favor for Cindy. She had her doubts now. It seemed more a favor to her. Mark gave every appearance of being Prince Charming. She suddenly felt like Snow White awakening from her deep sleep. A tiny drop of warmth entered her heart and slowly expanded. She smiled,  giggled nervously and shyly took his hand.

Before closing the door behind her she grabbed her shawl and purse. Then she turned to him and followed him to his expensive car where he helped her into it. A perfect gentleman. Anticipation made her nerve endings frightfully acute. Just the gentle brushing of his hand on the small of her back caused tingles to spring into action. She had no idea what to expect from her first date in over two decades, but she knew this was a good decision. More friends should do huge favors for their friends.

Serenity

Mark smiled at Trudy who sat across from him with her chin propped up on her hand gazing at him as if in a trance. He was used to women staring at him, even before Patty died. It annoyed him, but oddly enough not when Trudy did it.  It was different with Trudy as it had been with Patty. Perhaps it was because it gave him ample opportunity to stare right back at her. Her enormous baby-blue eyes were hypnotizing and the rest of her extremely enticing.

He realized anybody watching them just then would assume they were totally nuts just staring at each other.... nuts or in love.

“And so, that’s how you barbeque a spleen. You can then feed it to Tiffle the Troll.  He’d like that, don’t you think?” he joked. She didn’t hear a thing he said. His grin broadened and he passed a hand in front of her face saying, “Am I boring you, Trudy?”

Her eyes widened and she lifted her chin off her hand. “Bored? Why would you say that? I love your stories. You tell them so well,” she answered adamantly. Of course, she was lying.  She had blanked out for a minute. He could have been talking about the latest surgical procedure or the score of the Cowboys-Giants game. She had no clue, though, she thought she heard him say something about her Tiffle the Troll character. She seized on this.

“Are you making fun of me and Tiffle?” she asked petulantly, a slight pout to her lips making her look doubly adorable.

He chuckled. “I like that troll. He’s quite the rebel,” he countered grinning.

“Too bad Mrs. Tannenbaum doesn’t agree. She thinks I’m corrupting the morals of minors every time I tell my stories to the kids at the library,” she said.

“I’ll bet she thinks the same of Dr. Seuss and J.K. Rowling. Did you hear the latest? Dumbledore’s gay! That ought to have her panties in a bunch,” he said gleefully.

Her eyes widened again. “Actually she does. How in the world did you....?”

“A not-so-wild guess,” he countered casually. He drained his wine glass and looking pensive remarked,  “You’re so good with kids. Why didn’t you and Charlie ever have any?”

As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.  He saw with distress, that quick change in her expression. Her eyes were filled with a sadness so complete he felt it as his own. Mark automatically placed his hand over hers.   “I’m sorry, Trudy, I didn’t mean to pry.”

She stared down at his hand, so strong and warm, smooth and soothing. She got the sudden urge to lift it and press it  to her cheek. She had done that countless times with Charlie, her silent way of saying “comfort me”.

“It’s fine, Mark,” she said quietly, her eyes still fixed on his hand.  “We did have a little boy. Taylor died 3 months short of his second birthday. The last operation...it didn’t work.”

Mark’s heart constricted painfully. He squeezed her hand.  “Trudy, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

She nodded, looked up and smiled. “Taylor was so sweet. My beautiful angel. Would you like to see a picture?”  Before getting an answer she slipped her hand from Mark’s grip and pulled out her wallet. She opened it and placed it on the table.

Mark looked down at the two pictures. A slight, frail-looking little toddler sitting on Trudy’s lap smiled up at him and in the other Charlie, cheek to cheek with Taylor, beamed an identical smile with his son. Emotion filled his chest. It took a minute before he could speak.
 
“He’s adorable. He looks just like Charlie but he has your eyes.”

“Charlie must finally be happy,” she said softly as she took the wallet back. She caressed the pictures with her finger tips. “He and Taylor are together again. He was devastated when Taylor died, worse than I was. Taylor was the only one I could carry to term...well, almost. He was five weeks premature. He was our miracle baby. The others barely made it to five months.”  She gazed at the pictures for one more second, sighed wistfully then  replaced it in her purse.

Mark recaptured her hand and tentatively asked,  “How many others?”

“Six. Taylor was lucky number seven. He just couldn’t stay long,” she whispered, gazing at Mark’s hand over hers. He squeezed her hand again. “They just spontaneously aborted. Don’t know why.  Better than having them still born, I suppose.”

 She shook her head a bit. That was more than she ever talked about that painful time in her life, even with Charlie. He never talked about it. There was something about Mark that loosened her tongue, made her feel comfortable talking. Perhaps it was because he spoke so openly himself.

“Why didn’t you adopt?” Mark asked gently.

“We were too distraught to think of it after Taylor died. We figured God simply didn’t want us to be parents.  Maybe he knew we’d be horrible at it,” she replied.

“Nonsense,” Mark said. “I see you with those munchkins  at the library. They love you. And Charlie was wonderful with Cindy’s kids. You would have been fantastic parents.”

She looked up smiling, the most serene expression Mark ever witnessed. It made his soul warm instantly.  “Then God did know what he was doing. Instead of giving me one child to devote myself to he gave me dozens and dozens. Good trade I think,” she said brightly.

He stared at her completely in awe. Six miscarriages, one dead son and a devoted husband, her soul mate snatched cruelly from her and still she could smile so sweetly. How could any one person live through all that and not be consumed with bitterness? And he thought he was tough seeing the constant struggle for life and death every day.

It was this aura of serenity that was pulling him in, making him crave to see Trudy again and again. He made up excuses for stopping by the library when he could get anything he wanted, and much easier, too, on-line. She filled a void he didn’t know he had. He could use some serenity of his own. He wondered fleetingly if he could borrow some of hers. Perhaps hers would rub off on him. Or maybe it already had.

The Blind Date

Mark put the stethoscope around his neck, grabbed the first chart and flipped through it just as a familiar voice shouted his name. He groaned inwardly.

“Here we go again. Round six,” he muttered before turning to see his cousin’s impish face smiling up at him. He loved Cindy to pieces, but he was starting to regret getting her a job at the hospital, his hospital. It wouldn’t be so bad if she could stop with her incessant inquiries into his non-existent love life. He thought about this impending encounter and had devised a plan of sorts. He would try a diversionary tactic. It worked in war, so why not with family?

“Hey, Cutie, how are you this morning? Dave watch the game last night? He owes me a c-note. Told him the Broncos would get clobbered. He never listens,” Mark said casually.

“Is that why he was grumpy all night? I thought he didn’t like dinner,” she said cheerfully. Mark had never known someone who could be so happy all the time. She was a bit annoying that way, at least to the other nurses on his floor, but that’s what he loved especially about her. He tweaked her nose as he had done since they were tiny tots.

“What you make for dinner?” he asked still hoping to divert this talk away from all things love related.

“Macaroni and cheese, the real stuff. I used Aunt Molly’s recipe,” she replied proudly.

He frowned. “You don’t love me at all! You know how much I love my mom’s mac and...”   He stopped when she shoved a large square container into his hands.  “Uh...never mind. I love you, too.” he said and eagerly pulled the cover off and dug his fingers into it. He chewed appreciatively. “That’s great stuff. Just like Mom’s.”

Cynthia giggled and kissed his cheek. “Love you, too,” she said. “I have a surprise for you.”

This instantly set off warning bells.

“I gotta go do my rounds, kid. Tell me at lunch,” he said, swiftly moving down the hall. With difficulty she kept up with his long-legged strides.

“Mark, you have to do this huge, gigantic favor for me,” she said.

He stared at her narrowing his eyes. “This a bribe?” he asked scathingly, indicating the mac and cheese in his hand.

“Depends on how you look at it. It’s a favor for me, but I’m certain it will do you some good, too. If you think about it, it’s really more of a favor for you,” she said grinning up at him.

Oh, here it comes, he thought.

“I want you to take out my very best friend,” Cynthia said casually.

He shoved the container of food back into her hands. “Forget it, Cindy. I don’t do blind dates anymore,” he snapped.

“It’s not blind,” she said, shoving it back at him. “You’ve met her a dozen times. She and her husband have...”

“You’re setting me up with a married woman?” he bellowed, incredulous.

“Course not! She’s widowed just like you. It’s Trudy. You remember her and her husband Charlie. They’ve been to my house a million times when you were there.”

“No, I don’t,” he said gruffly continuing down the corridor.

“Of course you do. Charlie owned the marina by the lake. Charlie Jacobson.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “He died? Oh...that’s so sad. He was such a nice guy,” he said his brows furrowed now.

“So, you’ll remember Trudy. She’s been devastated since he died. It was so sudden,” Cynthia said sadly.

“No, I don’t, honestly. I never met his wife,” he said.

“You have to! She’s blond and so sweet and....”

“She’s got a great personality, blah-blah-blah. Yeah, I know the story. You said that about the mud wrestler named Rocky, too,” he growled.

“That was Dave’s doing,” she said adamantly. “I didn’t know her.”

“Forget it, Cindy. I’m off dating,” he said.  “I’m not too keen on getting my arm twisted again for a goodnight kiss and a promise for a tumble in the sack once my rash is gone.”

“What rash?” Cynthia asked anxiously.

“The one I made up to get away from Rocky,” he said. “The answer’s NO.”

“No, it’s not, Mark. I already told her you’d be there tonight to take her out. You can’t back out or she’ll just waste away and she really needs this, Mark. She’s so depressed. It’s heartbreaking. It took me this long to get her to agree to go with you. It’s so weird. She didn’t remember you either. She’s just like you. She's so wrapped up in Charlie even after this long, that nothing else matters.”

“It’s not that long to us. I still miss Patty, Cindy. You’ll never understand and I don’t wish it on you. You should just leave us both alone. We both had it great with our spouses and now...dating's useless. We can’t find anyone close to decent let alone anything near what we had before. I know cuz I’ve tried,” he told her fiercely. “Dating sucks big time. I quit.”

She glared up at him and snatched the macaroni and cheese out of his hand. “You quit after tonight, if you know what's good for you!” she snapped. She held up her hand to stop him. “No, you listen, Bud. Trudy’s my best friend, the sister I never had. I love her dearly and I want her happy again. You will take her to a movie tonight or you’ll get no more food from me...EVER. And I’m not kidding.”

He stood frozen. She’d never ever threatened that. “Cindy....” he pleaded.

“Seven tonight. Be there or you’ll have me to contend with. I will not have Trudy treated like a barroom tramp either. She’s a high class lady. Take her to the French Manor for dinner first and I’ll feed you everyday for a month. I’ll see you later,” she said, before turning on her heel and swiftly stalking off down the hallway.

“Great,” he grumbled. He sighed and resigned himself to the task for tonight. Maybe, he thought hopefully, Trudy would back out of it and they’d both be off the hook.

He hung to that hope until he stood outside Trudy’s door. He knocked softly and wished she would pretend she wasn’t home.

Trudy opened the door and fastened her large, terrified blue eyes on his.

“Damn,” he said, but not because she opened the door. He’d never seen anything so gorgeous in his life. How could he have missed seeing her with Charlie? They stared at each other wordlessly for what seemed an eternity.

“Um...Mark?” she said tremulously. He nodded mutely. “You’re Cindy’s cousin?” she asked cautiously. Again he nodded. “I’m sorry. She said we had met before but I don’t remember.”

“I met Charlie. I was so sorry to hear he’s gone. I really liked him,” he said sympathetically. “Cindy said you knew my wife.”

“Yes, I so liked Patty. She was so funny. I’m very sorry,” she said sadly. They stared at each other as silence ensued.

Mark roused himself and said calmly, “Well, I thought we could go to the French Manor for dinner and...”

“I don’t have sex,” she blurted out suddenly. She then blushed crimson, twisted her hands and bit her lip.

He gaped open-mouthed. She was so adorable standing before him looking like a sixteen year old girl on her first date. She was obviously scared to death of him. He slowly smiled. “Good to know. I once got my arm twisted until I promised I would. Luckily she may have forgotten about me by now.”

She looked up at him, confusion evident. He waved a dismissive hand and bracingly added  “Long story.”

“I....I haven’t dated in twenty-two years. I don’t know anything about what’s expected and even if I did I still won’t do it. I’m very old-fashioned,” she said adamantly.

Relief flushed through him like an intoxicating tonic. “Finally, a woman I can handle. No pressure. I like it already,” he replied.  “So...is dinner okay?” he asked tentatively.

She looked either ready to faint or to slam the door in his face. He couldn’t really tell. But now Mark was hoping she wouldn’t back out. She had him intrigued. He held out his hand and said “I promise. I won’t bite. Cindy would kill me if I even breathed too hard around you. And she’ll know too without anyone telling her. She’s kinda spooky that way.”

She giggled nervously and shyly  took his hand. Grabbing her shawl and purse, she closed the door and stepped out into the dark with him. He helped her into his car and ran around to his side.

Excitement bubbled up within him. If this went well, and he was definitely going to try to make that happen, he would have to buy Cindy a diamond tennis bracelet with matching earrings. She wasn’t kidding about the favor being mostly for him.