Page 19 of Undone, Love Times Three

I’m going to ask her on an actual date.

We pull into a small cul-de-sac with about six houses. Lights are glowing in most of them, two are dark and one has its porch lights blazing. It’s quiet, the houses are all one level, with attached garages and front lawns. In my head, she lived in some quirky style apartment.

She pulls her car onto the drive with no mishaps. I park on the street, get out and walk up the path. I could have just waved from the truck but again, that chivalrous thing is taking over and I want to see her into the house.

“Looks like you did an okay job,” she jokes, as she grabs her purse and straightens her blouse.

“I’ll try not to brag.”

Sylvie laughs and locks her car. She looks up at her house and back at me. “Thank you again, for everything today. I would have lost a lot of money if I hadn’t got the flowers there on time.”

“It’s no problem, I’m sure you would do the same thing for me.”

“Icanchange a tire,” she points out as she walks towards her porch. Hers is the one with the lights on, even though it’s not quite dark yet.

She climbs the stairs and I wait at the bottom, holding onto the wooden railing and putting one foot up on the first step. Sylvie turns around and looks at me, her breath catching. Guess she likes what she sees too. Yeah, I am asking her out.

Before I get the chance, she surprises me.

“Do you want to come in for a drink? As a thank you,” she adds on hastily. “Also, I have some left over lasagna that I need to eat today and there is a lot.”

She’s rambling again. “I’d love to,” I say, climbing up the stairs. “Thanks.”

“Okay,” she stares for a second, then whirls around and unlocks her front door.

Inside, it’s got that bohemian look that I’d been imagining but it is all neat and smells of fresh flowers. I follow her through to the kitchen and she heads straight to the back door.

“Okay, time to go outside.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Oh,” she lets out a laugh. “Not you.”

Lurch is ambling towards the back door as Sylvie pushes it outwards. This is the surrealist thing ever. She waits for him to cross the threshold before closing the door over.

“How is he by the way, after his near death experience?”

“Fine, as you can see,” she nods and I look through the window. “I’ve hidden all the ribbon in the store when he comes in. Although he hasn’t been in since the incident.”

The tortoise heads across the grass to a small garden of vegetables. Is it always eating?

“Did you want to eat too? Or just a drink. Either is no problem.”

“I could eat.”

To emphasize that, I pat my stomach. Sylvie’s eyes trail the motion before she snaps herself out of it. She sets her things down, kicks off her shoes and washes her hands, telling me to help myself to a drink, pointing out where everything I need is.

“It only needs warming so shouldn’t be too long.”

“Could I wash up somewhere first?”

“Of course,” she gives me directions to the bathroom.

By the time I’m cleaned up, and after giving myself a pep talk, Sylvie has heated the lasagna and the house smells amazing. She sets the table for us and we sit down with the beers I got out.

“Am I the only one who thinks this is surreal?” she asks after settling her napkin in her lap.

“It doesn’t have to be,” I sip my beer and then lean forward putting an elbow on the table.

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