She was gone when I woke up the next morning. There was a note in the kitchen saying that she had to get home to retrieve her son, Brian from her friend’s. She didn’t say anything else. No sappy love note, no regrets, no apologies. I wasn’t sure whether to be miffed or relieved. A little bit of both I guess.
I have been accused of living more in my head than in the real world, and it was definitely that way now. It was Saturday, and I had my routine down to a science. Men don’t do shopping. We go out with a list, a plan and destination. I knew where I was going to go, what I was going to buy, and how much it would cost before I ever left the house. This was when I would normally be checking out the available females at the market, but today my head was in a different place. (Maybe we males do a little shopping after all.)
Today my head was a million miles away. Solly at the fish place asked me for the third time what I was looking for before I realized I was at the head of the line. In fact I really couldn’t remember any of my meander up to that point. I had been watching the movies and snapshots inside my head all morning.
" Sorry, Solly, I’m a little distracted this morning. Give me a couple of pounds of the Copper River Salmon, and a nice big Dungeness Crab. I feel like cooking tonight."
"I got some real nice shrimp here, just in fresh this morning, How’s about a couple of pound of those. I know you like to make Tempura, and they would be to die for."
"Yeah, go ahead and throw them in. If I’m going to go to the bother with the time and mess, I might as well make it worth while."
"Don’t forget to ice your batter, Pat" Solly chuckled.
I called Star and asked her over to dinner, told her I was in a mood to cook. The only thing required was her presence. She had only one condition, and that was that she bring her son along. While my plans for the evening didn’t include any kids, I still wanted to have her come over anyway. No sense in getting greedy. Besides, I enjoyed Star’s company even without the sex.
She showed up for dinner at about six, kid in tow. He was an agreeable kid. His hair was some darker than Stars, his eyes a little darker shade of blue, but you could definitely see whose kid he was. He enjoyed getting messy helping me dip the seafood in the Tempura batter and frying up dinner. He also enjoyed the food, although he was a little leery of some of the dipping sauces. Star ate everything with great gusto. He told me the Honey Ginger sauce "Tasted like dirt", and I of course asked him how he knew what dirt tasted like. I wondered how long it had been since anyone had cooked for her.
After supper, she offered to do the dishes, and I didn’t object, but I grabbed the dish towel and dried. Brian helped put things away.
It was such a domestic scene. It reminded me of growing up on the farm. I had never known a domestic life on my own. The closest thing was the brief time when Star and I lived together. That was all fire and ice and fireworks. This was mellow and smooth, and felt more like that was the way things were supposed to be. On one side of me it set me to asking if people really lived this way, and on the other it scared the hell out of me.
This could really suck a guy in. It was this big emotional black hole that once you entered its influence, there was no escape. Warning bells were going off inside my head "Warning, Will Smith, Danger!" But Will Smith never payed attention and neither did I.
It was getting late when we finished the dishes and got the kitchen squared away. The need to keep things organized was a trait I picked up in the Army. It is one of
the two things I learned in the Army that have proved invaluable in real life. The other is the ability to take a nap any time any where under just about any circumstances.
Star was living in a 1890’s converted mansion on Queen Anne Hill. The place had been cut up into a half a dozen apartments. Hers was in the Southwest corner, and contained a small kitchen, long skinny living room, tiny bedroom, and the original Master Bath. That bathroom was amazing. It was as big as the rest of the apartment put together. The whole thing was tiled, and had antique brass fixtures and an enormous built in tub. I can tell you from experience that the tub will handle two easily in lots of different positions.
Several weeks passed, and we were sorta drifting between the two places, ending up in one or the other. Everything at the time had this nice warm glow to it. Brian was a good kid, if a little introspective. He wasn’t real demanding, but we had a good time. I had never spent a lot of time with a five year old before, so I wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed around him. Much to my delight, I found that I had a silly side that appealed to him, and we enjoyed each other’s company. It was a revelation to me. There was this whole other dimension to things that I had never experienced.
One Saturday we were lounging in the floor watching TV when the phone rang.
"Hello. Oh, hi mom, what’s up? Oh damn. How is he? I’ll be over tomorrow" It seens her dad had a heart attack, and was in intensive care, so Star was packing up in the morning and heading back to LaGrange to be there for him and her mom.
Her mom had never been any good in a crisis, usually ended up in a darkened room pumped full of chemicals. It created an awkward moment with Star and I. Our relationship was still forming in this new configuration. Her parents had never cared for me particularly, nor I for them. So we decided it was not the best time for her to show up on my arm. Her mom would have enough to deal with for the time being.
So I helped Star pack, loaded her in her old beater Volvo station wagon and kissed her goodbye the next morning.
I went home to my loft, and the place seemed very empty.
I had grown used to being alone, and was frankly, very comfortable being me and being alone whenever I chose to be. But my steps had a hollow ring to them and I caught myself expecting to go around a corner and find Star or Brian waiting. It was weird. We hadn’t been together all that long this time, but it was different.
