I was in my own neighborhood, so it didn’t take me long to get back home. I quickly did some cool down stretches before jumping in the shower. It took less than ten minutes to clean up. I didn’t want to risk not hearing her at the door.
Pacing the living room, I waited for her to get her ass to my house. She was taking her sweet time it seemed. I picked up my phone, ready to call her and find out what was taking so long, when I heard a car outside. I pulled open the blinds and saw her coming up the walk wearing a pink dress. My passion was ignited. I yanked open the front door and pulled her in, not giving her the chance to knock or talk. I had waited too long. Niceties would have to come later. I had to have her right then and there.
***
“Are you hungry?” I asked her, sitting up and looking for my clothes.
She rolled over and stretched, revealing the full length of her beautiful, naked body. I had to admire it for a second before I looked away.
“I am. Are you going to make me breakfast?” she asked, sitting on the floor next to me.
I felt a little guilty that I had taken her right there in the entryway of my house, but I couldn’t stop myself. I stood, pulling on my briefs and picking up my jeans and the t-shirt that had been tossed on the couch. I left the shirt hanging there.
When I turned back to hand her the dress I had tossed away in my haste, she was holding up the panties. “These aren’t exactly functional, but, they’ll have to do I suppose.”
I laughed. “Functional, no; fucking hot,
hell yeah.”
She giggled while shimmying them on. I had to laugh at her struggle to put the things on. It wasn’t easy with so many holes in the tiny scrap of material. I handed her the dress, and she quickly pulled it on, putting her bra in her purse.
“It’s Sunday,” she answered when she caught me watching.
I nodded. “Believe me, I don’t mind.”
I headed into the kitchen, pulled open the refrigerator to survey the contents, and was a little embarrassed by the slim pickings. Eggs and toast it was.
I could hear her in the living room, walking around. It felt strange to have someone in my house, inspecting my things. I had removed Miriam’s touch, which left the place a little sparsely decorated.
“I see you are one of those minimalists,” she said, walking into the kitchen.
I chuckled. “Well, I don’t know about that. I, uh, well, I recently cleaned up around here. Like boxing up stuff.”
She looked at me, a strange expression on her face. “Like you were a hoarder?”
“No. All of Miriam and Ally’s things. I finally boxed them up last week. I haven’t had the time or the desire to decorate the place. I don’t even really know what I like. I went from being a bachelor to married, and then a widower, all in a short period of time,” I explained.
“I get it. You don’t have to explain. Leave it as it is if you’re fine with it. You don’t need a bunch of crap on the walls and shelves. You can’t take it with you when you die and your crap will just end up in a box in some garage,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
It was a bleak thought, but she was right. Our treasures on this earth were temporary. I could spend my money doing things I liked rather than buying trinkets that brought me no real happiness. I felt enlightened.
“You’re pretty smart,” I told her, leaning in to give her a kiss.
She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know about that, but it is something I heard my first year in school from a psych major. It didn’t make a lot of sense back then, but after Talia died, I got it completely.”
“Are you a minimalist then?” I asked.
She laughed. “No. I should be, and I wish I was, but I like trinkets. I mean, I don’t blow a lot of money on stuff, but I do like shopping and I do like decorating my room and house a little. When I get a full-time job and have my own place, I hope I can restrict myself to the basics. I have no desire to have collections of stuff that has to be dusted all the time, and will ultimately end up in someone’s basement or sold at a thrift store for a dollar.”
Her words reminded him of their age difference. She didn’t have a job or a house of her own, or any of the adult trappings of life. She was still so very young.
“Can I help with anything?” she asked, looking around the kitchen.
“Sure, grab a couple of plates if you would,” I said, pointing to the cupboard.
She did so and quickly searched the kitchen drawers to find silverware. We sat at the tiny table and ate our breakfast. It was odd to be eating in my house with anyone besides Jake.
“How was your visit with your mom?” I asked her.