Lana dreaded the idea of going outside, but Mike said something about firewood on the side of the house. What's in the bin might get her through one day, but no longer than that.
As she stepped outside, the wind and cold chilled her to the bone. The wind blew strong and the sleet and sand stung her face. It pierced her skin like broken glass. The only building on the side was a pump house, but it was locked. She decided to give up and bring in all the wood from the bin and hope it would last the day.
Walking back to the front of the house, she felt an overwhelming eerie feeling come over her. It was an uneasy feeling of being watched. She looked over at the empty house next door.
The small bushes next to the house scraped the side as the wind blew. It sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. She quickened her step to the front of the house. As she rounded the corner, her peripheral vision caught sight of someone next door. Hairs stood up on the back of her neck when she saw a man, staring right at her. She pulled her windblown hair aside to get a better look. Nobody was there. She disregarded as the wind moving the clouds and causing a reflection off the window. She ran the rest of the way to the front door, constantly looking behind her.
She stood in front of the fire trying to gather her bearings and calm down. The morning started out terrible and got worse. This incident played havoc on her raw emotions. All that just added worry to what had already happened with Mike.
The morning seemed so ambiguous with the incident with Mike. She wondered what made
him leave. Surely, he would have told her if there were a family emergency. She racked her brain trying to figure out what made him leave. Then an uneasy thought crossed her mind. Maybe he was a drug dealer. Oh God, she hoped not. She wished she wouldn't have thought of that because now she'd worry about it all day long. If he were a dealer, he certainly would have people coming after him. She needed to give him a chance to explain.
*****
While reading her book The Count of Monte Cristo, her cell phone rang. "Hello."
"Hi stranger, how's your morning so far?" Mike asked.
"My morning has been busy, and yours?" Her heart started beating fast just hearing his voice. She turned the corner down in the book and sat it on the coffee table.
"Busy, and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am I ran out on you." His thoughts drifted to last night, remembering how his body ached for her. He knew he wouldn't waste any time pursuing this woman.
"That's okay I could tell it was important." She wanted to know the reason, but she figured he would tell her in due time.
"We'll talk about it later tonight. How about I leave work early, and we go out to dinner?"
She could hear Mike shut a door. She knew that was a sign he was in an office. Unless of course, they were making drugs in the warehouse, and he shut the door so she couldn't hear what was happening. She rolled her eyes at herself for thinking such a ridiculous thought. She didn't bring the right clothes to go out to dinner with anyone, especially at a fancy place. "If you don't mind, why don't we have dinner here? That way if you're running late you won't feel guilty standing me up. How does that sound?"
"You do have a point. I have a better idea. If I get done early how about I order a pizza and pick up some beer? There's a place called Franco's and they make a fantastic pizza."
"Beer and pizza sounds delicious."
"You are sweet. I did want to tell you that I've been thinking about you today, and I enjoyed last night."
She could tell he seemed as breathless as her. Although their conversation was over the phone, she could hear between the lines. "I've been looking at the fire and thinking about you too. I also enjoyed yesterday. Do you miss me?" Her heart was caught up in the moment.
Normally she didn't ask men that question—usually she didn't care.
"Yes, I miss you more than I ever thought possible, and what does the fire have to do with us?" Mike asked. Tonight he intended to show her how much he missed her, he planned to kiss her. The thought of kissing her in front of the fire made him breathless.
"That's what my grandmother always told me. My grandmother was Native American. Her ancestors looked into the fire, and the flicker of the flames told them about their future." She walked around the room cleaning; picking up the pillows and fluffing them before putting them back on the couch. She walked into the kitchen and emptied the dishwasher, then rearranged the toiletries in the bathroom as she continued to talk.
"What did the fire tell you about me?"
"That's an old Indian secret. I could tell you, but then it might not come true." She stood by the fire and stared at the flame, hoping some kind of prophecy from her ancestors would enlighten her.
"I certainly want every wish to come true. See what you do to me, you make me miss you even more. To be honest, I have done nothing but think about you today. You linger in my mind when I'm getting coffee, walking down the hall, or sitting at my desk. I have a ton of stuff to keep me busy here. But I'm having a hard time concentrating. I just wanted you to know I miss you, and I'm thinking of you," he whispered.
"Mike is someone with you?"
"No."
"Why are you whispering?"
"You're taking my breath away." Mike couldn't believe he said those words to this woman he hardly knew. He'd never said those words to any woman, but he didn't believe in playing games. He believed in spitting out whatever crossed his mind. "Thinking of you makes me breathless."
She wasn't quite ready to call him baby because that was her intimate word. It's a silly thing for her to think, but she had that special word she withheld until that special moment. Her word happened to be baby. She chose another word, a fitting word. "Sweetie, you are needed there, and that's hard for me to say because I'd love for you to be here. But your priority needs to be work. I'll be here when you get home. And don't forget we have nine more days together." Two weeks ago, she never dreamed she would say those words to a man, much less someone she had just met.
Mike liked it when she said home, and he liked the nine days, but knew it would be longer if he had any say in the matter. He liked the way she said it, it sounded as though it was permanent.
With her, he wanted it to be forever. "Well, I just want you to know I want to be with you right now," he said softly.
"I want to be with you too," she whispered. She didn't want to hang up, and she could tell he didn't want to either.
Because the conversation seemed to be getting heavy, he decided to lighten the mood. "So what do you want to do this evening besides eat pizza?" he asked.
Make love to you, are the words she wanted to scream out, but she couldn't be that bold—at least not yet. But she was bold enough to say, "The only thing I want is for you to hold me."
After a long pause, she could hear Mike take a deep breath. "That, my sweet lady, I'd be more than glad to do. How about I hold you while we lie in front of the fire? And maybe the fire will tell us what's in our future."
It was her turn to take a deep breath. "I would like that very much, and I might even throw in a back rub." Truth be told, she wanted to see him without a shirt.
There was another pause with a deep breath. "It's a date. How could I turn down that offer?"
He closed his eyes and imagined Lana touching his bare skin. His body quivered with the thought of her softly touching him. It would drive him crazy, he knew that without hesitation.
"You can't, and I think you deserve a back rub after a hard day's work." Actually, she wanted to give him more than a back rub.
She heard a knock on the door at Mike's end, and he covered the speaker of his phone, but she still heard him answering something about times and dates.
"I'm sorry babe that was one of the guys. As much as I hate to end our conversation, they need me in the other room."
"I understand, you hurry and do your job, and I'll be here when you get done."
"Okay babe," he paused, and he wanted to say I love you but didn't. "I'll call when I can."
"Bye babe." It sounded good to hear her voice say that word.
"Bye."
She danced her happy dance in front of the fire. Oh my God, what just happened with that phone call? I met this guy two days ago, and I'm already calling him words of endearment.
Then sudden nervousness enveloped Lana, she still didn't know what he did for a living.
*****
When she set the teakettle on the stove, she stood at the kitchen window and looked down the road. The neighborhood looked desolate and eerie, and the woods looked barren. There were some visible houses in the distance, through the woods. A person could see for at least a half since all the leaves had fallen off the trees.
She put her face over the cup with the tea bag as she poured the hot water in it. She loved the smell of tea when the hot water first hit the tea bag. Steam rose through the air as she raised and lowered the tea bag. She watched out the window while waiting. After a few minutes, something caught her eye in the distance. Through the woods way far off, she saw a red jacket moving at a house on another street. She guessed he was the owner hauling firewood to the back porch. She watched the red jacket move back and forth from the back yard to the front yard two or three times.
Who knows, maybe he wanted to wrap his water pipes. A cold front was expected, and he needed to prepare for it. Anyway, it wasn't any of her business, but she would mention it to Mike later. She glanced down at her tea, it looked strong enough. As she glanced up, she jumped back when she saw the man intently looking her way. She knew he couldn't see her, but it startled her.
Lana calm down, he sees smoke coming out of the chimney and the lights on. After all, it was the neighborly thing to do to watch out for the neighbors. She took a deep breath and laughed at herself for getting so spooked all the time. She hadn't been here but a few days, and she had been skittish a lot. This reaction was not like her, but she excused herself for being scared.
*****
Bored, and checking the clock every five minutes she decided to watch the news or catch a movie. Swigging on her tea and watching TV, she wrapped up in a blanket before pointing the remote toward the Sony and surfing the channels. She stopped when she got to a special report.
Today's update: Early this morning a local U.S. Marshal in Boston, Massachusetts—Marshal Frank Belamy—was shot while serving a felony warrant. The spokesperson for the U.S.
Marshal's office, Stacey Farmer, said the house had been under investigation for several months for drug trafficking. The shooter was captured and is in custody at this time. Frank Belamy is in critical condition at Massachusetts General; more details on the 5:00 news.
How sad; I hope he's okay, she thought. She surfed through more channels and stopped on the movie, Gone With The Wind, on TNT. She couldn't resist one of her favorite oldies.