Page 69 of Hello Darling
19
Evan
On the last night of our glorious long weekend, wherein Stella has joined me in-between working and returning home to feed her cat, and we enjoyed nights at my house, in front of the fire, in front of the telly, with one hand holding a mug of hot toddy and one hand up each other’s sweaters, I feel it’s time for me to take things to another level yet again.
I’m so used to reacting to my girlfriends’ attempts to push the envelope of intimacy. So used to my girlfriends being the ones who ask for more than I’m able to give them. Here I am, plotting my moves with a woman who isn’t asking for enough from me. Not nearly enough.
“You’re leaving now? It’s only eight o’clock.”
“Yeah. I haven’t been spending enough time with my cat. I know that sounds like some lame excuse, like ‘I have to wash my hair,’ but I do have to spend time with my cat, and wash my hair, and do laundry.”
I watch her pull on her coat and boots, then go to my room to get something and call out: “Wait for me. I’m going to follow you in my car.”
“Why?” She comes to my bedroom door.
“Because we’re switching to night shoots starting this week and our schedules won’t mesh very well for a bit, so you and I are going to your flat tonight because I get to sleep in tomorrow morning.” I actually have her address, because I’ve been having things delivered there, but I want to follow her home.
“Um. No.”
“But I want to meet your Muffin Top.”
“She doesn’t like meeting people.”
“She just hasn’t met the right ones. Also, I’m going to help wash your hair and do your laundry.”
“You are not.”
“Just try to stop me.”
“Okay fine, but you’re not spending the night.”
“Right. But I’m bringing an overnight bag just in case.”
She stands perfectly still, shaking her head, rolling her eyes at me, but there’s a smile waiting to be released, I can see it. “Fine!” she says, blowing out a breath. “Fine.” And there’s that smile.
I’d never bothered to look it up before, but Stella’s place is only a ten minute drive from mine. This pleases me to no end, despite the fact that I’ll only be at that house for less than a month more. She lives on a nice wide street that has houses on either side—smaller and more exposed properties than the street I’m staying on, but the houses are quite large and look very nice. She asked me to park my car on the street and said it would be safe there, and I’m certainly not worried about that. As she pulls into a driveway and up past the main house, I park my car, grab my bag and get out quickly, eager to join her.
As I walk up the drive, a middle-aged man in a sweat suit and coat comes out the side door of the main house, carrying a rubbish bag. He looks up as he drops it into a bin, squints at me through his glasses, and looks very confused indeed.
“Evening,” I say, nodding at him and slowing my pace.
“Hi,” he says. “Are you—is there a problem with the house?”
“The what?”
“The rental—I’m Whit, I’m the agent for the house you’re staying at.”
“Oh right, great, hi. I’m Evan.” I shake his hand.
“Oh I know who you are.”
“No, the house is incredible, actually, I love it. No complaints.”
“Okay good.”
Stella gets out of her car and saunters over to join us. “Hey. He’s just coming to meet Muffin Top,” she says sheepishly.
Whit does an admirable job of not looking too bewildered. “Ah, well. You’re in for a treat.” He nods his head vigorously. “Have a good night.”
