I Have Him Now

    “I should have put up with the drinking.”

    I love the high-backed booths in English-style bars. I can sit near the wall, eavesdrop, and never be noticed. The speaker in the booth behind me wasn’t aware of my presence, nor did she know that I knew who she was. Nor that I knew who she was talking about – my husband.
    Needless to say, I wasn’t about to let her know I was there. I wanted to hear the conversation she was having with her sister.

    “He told me he wouldn’t quit drinking so I broke up with him. I’ve heard he quit drinking so much a year or two after they married. What does she have that I don’t?”

    I smiled. I didn’t have anything she didn’t have, not even her looks. But I love and respect Andrew for the honest, hard-working man he is and don’t expect him to change. Any changes Andrew makes is because he wants to, not because I deliver an ultimatum.

    “Oh, Sara,” her sister said. “I know you’ve had a hard time with men and I don’t know why. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
    I heard a sniffle. Good grief! Was Sara going to start bawling because I had something she had thrown away? Her loss is my gain and I’ll never let her know what I know about her relationship with Andrew, and the men she later married. I’d lay odds it’s much more than she would like for me to know.

    “Janice, where do I go wrong?” Sara asked. I could hear the tears in her voice. “I’ve married men who are polite, church-goers, neat dressers, who never drink or swear like Andrew does, and all of them have been bad for me.” 
    “Oh, Sara.” Janice paused. “I wish you hadn’t had such a bad time with men. Maybe you need to stop looking for a man and learn to live without one.”
    Sara started crying in earnest at that. I could hear Janice now-nowing and it’ll-be-okaying her sister. I knew the last man had run them deep into debt then disappeared while Sara was at work. She wouldn’t have had to worry about that with Andrew; he is a stickler for paying his debts. Nor would she have had to endure the abuse the first man gave her, nor the skirt-chasing the second man did. 
    Andrew’s no saint, but I could not ask for a better man to love me.

    “Sara, what are you wanting to do? You know you can’t have Andrew and I don’t really think you’re ready for this relationship you’ve started on-line.”
    Janice was the stable, level-headed sister of three like Sara.
    Sara mumbled something I didn’t understand. Apparently Janice did as she tsk-tsked but didn’t say anything. I sipped my Pepsi and ate another sweet potato fry while waiting for more information.
    It wasn’t long in coming.
    “Janice, I talk to Andrew several times a year, when I see him out without his wife. He’s always sweet, sometimes hugs me if he senses I’m feeling down, and tells me how much he admires me and what a good person I am.”
    Well, that was nothing new to me. Andrew tells me when he talks to Sara, what she tells him, and his worries about her. He worries a lot about people he cares for, and he does hug a lot of women. Even when I’m with him so that was no surprise either.
    However, Sara’s next statement sure was. 
    “I’m going to tell him I want to get back with him.”
    Janice gasped. “Sara, you can’t do that. You know it’s wrong. What makes you think he would leave his wife?”
    “Haven’t you heard how much they fight? Where anyone can hear them? And I’ve heard they’ve both threatened the other with a divorce lawyer. Does that sound like he’s happy?”
    Janice sighed. “Sara, they have fussed and fought since the day they were married. I’ve heard all the rumors but every time I see them out together, I can tell they’re in love with each other. It’s very obvious. I don’t think Andrew is a man who would leave his wife just because you tell him you want to get back together with him. What makes you think that in the first place?”
    “He always seems so happy to see me, like he did when we were dating. Oh, Janice, why did I have to be so pious?”
    Janice waited a bit before answering that. “Sara, I know drinking has always bothered you. Don’t you think I remember how Dad was? Leon drinks, but he’s nothing like Dad. Once in a while I ask him to slow down a little for his health, but I have never asked him to stop. He’s good to me so why would his drinking beer bother me? Never mind. You’re the one who had the problem with it.
    “But you can’t ask Andrew to leave his wife. That is unconscionable. I can’t believe you’ve even thought about it, much less actually considered doing it. Are you sure you’re okay?”
    Janice was sounding worried.
    There was a pause in their conversation.

    I shook my head at the barkeep when he nodded toward my Pepsi, asking if I needed a refill. I sure didn’t want Sara and Janice to know anyone could overhear them talking.

    They resumed their conversation, or at least Janice did. “Sara, you need to think about this. Long and hard. I don’t think you’re ready for another man in your life, and you sure don’t need to be telling a married man you want him back. If you’re that desperate, maybe you should find a counselor, or at least talk this over with your pastor.”
    Sara waited a few heartbeats before answering. “I don’t like counselors. And I don’t trust my pastor to keep his mouth shut. Who can I talk to if I can’t talk to you about it? Andrew is the only good man I know.”
    Oh, boy. Even though I trust Andrew completely, I was definitely going to have to tell him about this conversation, and spend more time with him out in public. 

    A masculine voice interrupted my thoughts. “Janice, it’s good to see you. And there’s Sara, too.”
    Oh, shit! I had gotten so interested in their conversation I had forgotten Andrew was meeting me here before we started for Louisville. 
    “Hi, Andrew,” Janice replied. “How are you doing?”
    “I’m good. Marcie and I are heading to Louisville in a little bit for a George Strait concert. What’ve you two been up to?”
    “Nothing much,” Janice replied. “Just having a late lunch.”
    “Cat got your tongue, Sara?” One thing about Andrew, he sure notices when someone isn’t talking. “Sara, are you okay?”
    Andrew had apparently noticed Sara’s demeanor. Oh, me. I was going to have to let my presence be known or Andrew would spend an hour coaxing Sara to tell him her problems. How to go about it? I glanced over at the bar. Thankfully the barkeep was looking my way. I pointed at my Pepsi and he nodded, and a minute later was setting a fresh one on my table.

    That drew Andrew’s attention away from Sara, and he leaned around the booth back and said, “I’ll be there in a minute, honey.” 
    It is nice when your husband knows which booth is ‘yours’ and what you order to drink. However, this was one of those times when I wasn’t sure it was a good thing, for now Janice and Sara knew I could have overheard their conversation. I figured the only thing I could do was to play it cool.
    “Okay, sweetie. I’m ready to hit the road right now, if you are.” That should cut the conversation short, especially if I got up and hugged him, which I did a few seconds later, after putting money on the table for my tab and a good tip for the barkeep. Andrew hugged me back, and told Sara, “You’re going to have to tell me what’s bothering you the next time we talk.” 
    She muttered something unintelligible, which Janice covered with, “It’s good to see you, Andrew. You and Marcie have a good time at the concert.”
    “I’m sure we will,” he replied. We said our good-byes and left the bar.

    On the way to Louisville, I told Andrew of the sisters’ conversation. 
    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. A few miles later he added, “I can’t believe Sara would even consider doing that. She’s asked me a few times if I was happy and I always tell her that you are the only woman for me.”
    I leaned over the console and kissed him on the cheek.  “And you’re the only man for me, my darling. I know we fuss and fight a lot, but are you ever really, deep down, mad at me or just stressed out?”
    “It’s stress, and you know it, or you wouldn’t even ask that question.” He smiled, his love for me evident in his eyes. “Besides, who else would understand me and put up with my ways for life?”
    I laughed when he asked that, for we both knew neither of us would ever love anyone else.

    I have my Andrew in my life. Deep down inside I feel a little sorry for Sara,  but if she wants my man, she is in for the fight of her life.

Outlaw Love: 2

 “Ginny Sue Maupin, if you’re planning on going out with that Reeder boy again, you can just move out! He ain’t nuthin’ but a troublemaker!”
Mom was yelling at me from the back porch as I took the stairs two at a time to my room.  She must’ve heard about the pool room ruckus last night. Yeah, Joe whipped the daylights out of Steve Wisdom, who didn’t show much wisdom when he swung that cue stick at Joe’s head. Wasn’t Joe’s fault that Steve couldn’t shoot a decent game of pool yet was stupid enough to bet with the sharks.
Why I hadn’t moved out already, I don’t know. Hell, I’m twenty-five, have a good job and could afford rent on a small place. And the past six months Joe has been after me to move in with him, and has even skirted around the topic of marriage a time or two.
I probably should marry Joe. I love him, and though he has never said he loves me, his actions show he does. Gentleness, protectiveness, putting up with my sometimes erratic ways. Always ready to spend time with me. And the sex, mmm, mmm, mmm, fantastic!

I looked around my room. Basically, I had nothing but my clothes and sentimental items that held sweet memories. Packing wouldn’t take long. But did I want to do it at this moment? No. I’d irritate Mom another few weeks. Which didn’t take much besides my breathing. I’m sure the Fates are laughing at us. 
I changed from the despised work-day clothes I had to wear as a bank teller  into my natural clothing – jeans, T-shirt and boots. Comfort, durability and ready-for-anything attire. I brushed my hair and pinned it back up. Joe liked it down but in Kentucky summers, keeping cool was my overriding concern.

Back down the stairs and searching the refrigerator for the potato salad I knew Mom had fixed for lunch, to go with the glass of lemonade I had just poured, I was treated to one of her rants against Joe.
“That boy is nothing but trouble,” she started. “I hear he drinks and smokes, and rides that motorcycle of his way faster than God intended for man to travel. And I’ve even heard he packs a gun! Who does that in this day and time?” 
I tuned it out as best I could. “And he chases women. Do you want a man who runs after every skirt he sees? Ginny Sue, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, Mom. I’m listening.” Paying attention was a whole other story.
“And no one ever sees him in anything but tight jeans and T-shirts, hanging out at the pool room, drinking beer with whatever scum hangs out in such places. For the life of me, I don’t know what you see in him!”
I knew what I saw in Joe, and what few others saw. His innate goodness, his honesty, his dependability and willingness to do hard work to acquire what he wanted out of life instead of bumming off other people – like several of Mom’s friends did . . . although Mom wouldn’t admit they were bums – they were ‘down on their luck.’ Yeah, crying to everyone around about how hard they had it so people would repair things and do yard and farm work for free or at a lower than usual price, when I knew for a fact they had money sitting in the bank that they were terrified someone would learn they had. Amazing how many bank transactions can be conducted in muted whispers across the counter.
“Mom, Joe’s good to me. That’s all that I care about.” I had the potato salad on the table and was dipping some onto a plate. My glass of lemonade was sweating onto the tablecloth.
“Hmph. ‘Good to you.’ What has he done for you? I don’t see any ring. You’ve never said anything about him getting you gifts. And as far as I know he’s never taken you to a fancy restaurant.” 
Mom was overlooking the fact that there wasn’t a fancy restaurant within a hundred miles, and I had no idea what she knew about a fancy restaurant in the first place. 
I sat down and took a bite of potato salad. Delicious as usual and that explained a lot about why I was still living at home.
“Mom, I don’t expect him to do those things and he knows it.” 
“Then what do you expect out of an outlaw? He’s nothing but trouble. Mark  my words, you’ll regret associating with him.”
I finished the potato salad and the lemonade, put the plate and glass into the sink, turned to Mom and asked, “Who do you think I should associate with?” I already knew the answer to that question, but asked anyway.
“Why that young Larkins boy. He’s always nicely dressed and polite to everyone.”
Randy Larkins was gay and everyone in the county knew it but women Mom’s age who never saw past three-piece suits and short hair. He was nice and polite, and held a respectable job as an insurance agent, but I was definitely not on his list of possible romantic partners.
“Oh, Mom. He’s not my type.” 
“Your type. Evidently ‘your type’ is outlaw. Ginny Sue, I do not understand you at all. You were raised better.”
“Mom, I’ve gotta go. I’ll be back around midnight.” I definitely did not want to hear the ‘raised better’ tirade.

I had my keys, money and driver’s license in my jeans pockets so I was ready to go. Something else that upset my mother – I seldom ever carried a pocketbook and apparently that was something that nice girls were supposed to do. Heck, I had a truck with a console area that held whatever I might need, like Kleenex, lip balm, hand lotion, you know, odd essentials, so why did I need a pocketbook to have to keep track of? 
I walked out the front door into the sweltering heat, and thanked all the saints in heaven for air conditioning. My Ford pickup’s AC worked just fine and I was soon tooling toward town and Joe. 

Joe had stopped by the bank just before closing time and we had made our evening plans then. We were going to a restaurant – not a fancy one – for supper. One my mother would never have condescended to set foot in, but they served delicious grilled shoulder and ribs, their french fries were always cooked to perfection, and no one put on airs. Joe and I dined where the food was good; we didn’t care about the ambiance. 
We met at the municipal parking lot where Joe was waiting for me, surprisingly, in his 1994 Ford pickup. I got out of my pickup, locked it, and got into Joe’s truck. “Where’s the Harley?”
“Thought you might like a bench seat for the night,” Joe replied, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“Okay . . .” I answered. There was no telling what he had in mind. The AC in his classic worked so I was content with the temperature and was along for the ride.

Joe headed east on the parkway and I relaxed into the comfort of back support and the stereo playing Travis Tritt. Joe sang along, occasionally reaching over to pat my leg in time to the music. He turned off at our regular exit but went left instead of right. Apparently his plans had changed since we talked. 
“Where are you headed? I asked.
“You’ll see,” he replied, grinning at me.
A few miles later, Joe took another left turn onto a dirt road. Now what? 
A few minutes later, I saw what. A large pond was ahead, and on the bank was a pavilion large enough to seat at least fifty people. A grill was set up nearby, and it was tended by the cook from our favorite barbecue restaurant. 
“Joe, what is this place? And why is Sammy here?”
Joe grinned at me. “You’ll see.”
He parked the truck near the pavilion and then I noticed there was only one table set up for dining. We got out and Sammy greeted Joe with, “Everything is just about ready.”

Joe thanked Sammy, then took my hand and walked toward the pond. It was cooler at the water’s edge, and a group of ducks were paddling along near the bank, looking for their supper. We walked down a path that was probably created by deer and found a loop that took us back to the pavilion.
Sammy was gone and there were two covered plates sitting on the table. Joe tugged me toward the table and held my hand as I sat at the picnic table. He handed me a napkin, removed the covers from the plated food, and sat down beside me. I knew the food would be scrumptious, since Sammy had done the cooking, but I wasn’t expecting the silver-wrapped package sitting in a crystal dish in the center of my plate.
“Joe, what is this?”
“Open it and find out.”
I wasn’t sure about this. Joe wasn’t one to make romantic gestures and this was definitely over the top for him. I carefully picked up the package and untied the ribbon. I paused and looked at Joe. He was solemnly watching me, his chin resting on his hands. 
“Joe . . . “
“Go on, open it.”
I laid the ribbon to the side, eased the tape loose on the silver wrapping, and unfolded the paper to find a plain brown-lidded box. I glanced up at Joe again. He hadn’t changed position.
I opened the box and saw a simple and elegant emerald and diamond ring, the band rose gold. I was stunned. I sat there, uncertain what to do. I glanced over at Joe another time; this time he was looking worried.
“Joe, it’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes,” he replied. “Say yes and join your life with mine.”
“Are you asking me to marry you?” Talk about surprises out of the blue.
“Ginny, I’ve wanted you to be my wife since the day we met. Will you give me that honor?”
“Oh, Joe. Yes. A zillion yeses.” I scooted closer and leaned into Joe’s welcoming embrace. “Yes, forever and a day.”

Outlaw Love: 1

     “For Pete’s sake, Pete! Stop! Turn off the motor. Get out! I am driving!”
     I should’ve known better than to let this town boy drive my 1978 Ford F-250. Hell! He didn’t know what a manual transmission was. While he hadn’t scraped the gears too much, I was tired of the “What do you mean?” every time I gave him an instruction. That’s what I get for thinking this cute, preppy towny’s pleading to drive my truck was sweet.
     Pete, thankfully, eased the truck to a stop, turned off the ignition and got out. I had both feet on the ground before the truck stopped moving and stalked around the front of my baby and gently patted the hood, causing Pete, who was standing by the driver’s door, to look at me like I was crazy. I decided that I was crazy for even thinking about letting anyone besides me drive this fine machine I had spent five years restoring. 
     “Annie, why did you tell me to stop? And turn off the motor?”
     If this guy asked one more question like that, I was going to leave him standing in the middle of this back road and hope his cell phone got a signal so he could call 9-1-1 for a ride back to town. If anyone could find him, that is.
     “Never mind why. Just get in – on the other side. I am driving this truck the way it deserves to be driven.”
     I got in, slammed the door, pushed in the clutch, held the brake, cranked the motor over and revved it a couple of times. And looked through the windshield at Pete whose expression told me that he apparently thought I was mistreating the truck. Hell! That 460 could take it. It was built for danger.
     “Are you going to get in or stand here?” I yelled at Pete.
     He shrugged, walked to the passenger side of the truck and climbed in. “Where are we going now?”
     "Places you’ll regret,” I told him, shoved the shifter into first and peeled out. From the corner of my eye I saw him reaching for a shoulder strap but this vintage vehicle only had a lap belt. A ninety-degree curve was just ahead and I fish-tailed around it, causing Pete to gasp. I hoped he didn’t upchuck; even though the bench seat was vinyl-clad, it’d be weeks before the smell disappeared.

     A hundred miles later, I dropped Pete off at his new fully-automatic Camry in Walmart’s parking lot. He didn’t even bother to say good-bye, have a nice evening, or I’ll see you later. I snickered as I watched him carefully click his key fob to unlock his city ride. I peeled out of the parking lot, hoping to make him jump, but didn’t look in the mirrors to see if he did.

     This was one of those Saturday evenings I would have appreciated a good bar in this one-horse more-pious-than-thou burgh. If people knew how well-stocked the home bars were of the city council members who’d put in a city ordinance banning bars, there would be a major revolt.
     I didn’t want to drive another hundred miles just to find a bar so cruised past Lance’s house to see if he was home. He was. I pulled into the driveway and laid on the horn.
     A minute later, Lance flung open the front door and yelled, “Why can’t you just come to the door and knock like normal people?”
     I shut the motor down, got out, walked the five steps to the front porch, and replied, “What fun would that be?”
     “Annie, if it wasn’t the twenty-first century, and you’re packing a cell phone instead of a forty-five, you’d definitely be an outlaw. Come on in.”

     I entered Lance’s neat-as-a-pin residence. How anyone managed to keep house like this eluded me. But Lance did. One of the many reasons we could never live together. Oh, we had tried, and tried, and tried. And gave up, and gave up, and gave up. I’m not sure if it was my lack of housekeeping skills that kept us separated most of the time, or that we were both leery of commitment, or the fireworks that appeared whenever we spent any length of time together. 

    While I took someone for an occasional non-romantic wild ride like this afternoon, Lance was my one and only and had been since we were small children. I’m sure he felt the same way about me as he had never seriously dated anyone else, even though a few luscious females had tried to snare him.
     “Got any Maker’s?” I asked.
     “As always,” he replied. “You know where it is.”
     So much for getting Lance to wait on me.
     I retrieved the Maker’s from the top shelf of the Hoosier cupboard, got a shot glass from the bow-front china cabinet, and sat at the round oak table Lance had refinished one of the times we thought we could survive more than two weeks together. We did last three weeks that time.
     “I’ve already heard about your mistreatment of Pete,” Lance said. “Damn! What did you mean?”
     “I didn’t do anything that I’ve not done before,” I said while pouring a short shot. All I really wanted the bourbon for was the aroma. Mmmm . . .
     Lance snorted. He had a good idea where I had taken Pete, as he’d been on a ride or two through that country with me himself. “I’m surprised he didn’t kiss the ground when he got out.”
     I snorted at that one. “He probably felt like it. I was a little rough on him. Couldn’t help myself.”
     “Damn it, Annie. You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days with those crazy driving stunts you pull. Then what am I gonna do?”
     Hmmm . . . Lance must be ready for another trial run at commitment and sharing a residence. 
     “You know I wouldn’t do anything that’d scratch my truck.”
     “No, you wouldn’t. Guess that’s a blessing.”

     Lance had been in the process of preparing supper when I interrupted. I knew he always cooked enough for at least a half dozen people so I sat at the table while supper was simmering on the stove. We talked about the local events, gossip or not, the weather, a couple of movies we’d like to see, and when Lance removed the cast iron skillet holding freshly baked cornbread from the oven, I got up and set the table. We enjoyed a meal of pintos, a mix of mustard, kale and poke greens, potato salad and dressed eggs. Maybe I should move in with Lance. Damn! I could cook, but he was a much better cook than I was.

     Supper finished, I cleared the table and did the dishes, a job I thoroughly despise. I figured Lance was getting suspicious of my actions and his question proved it.
     “Annie, why did you come by here?”
     I stopped drying my hands on the dish towel and hung it on the rack by the sink. “I don’t know, Lance. It just seemed the thing to do at the moment.”
     I didn’t tell him I’d been missing him like crazy while he was working construction out of town. We hadn’t seen each other for a month.
     I loved Lance and had for years, but I never knew how to talk to him about our relationship. I wanted to be with him as much as possible, but we were so volatile when together very long, that I didn’t know if we could work around that.

    Sometimes he would attempt a conversation about it, but soon dropped it, and we would wind up in bed together, enjoying a passionate evening, and peacefully coexisting for at least one night. Why we couldn’t combine all those nights and work them into our days so we could live together halfway calmly was something I didn’t understand.

     I sat down at the table. “Lance, you know I love you, always have. Why can’t we get along when we’re under the same roof?”
     He sat down beside me. “I don’t know. I wish I did so we could fix it. I love you, too, since first grade.” Lance reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You were hanging from the monkey bars, daring some big kid to try to get you down.”
     I laughed. “That big kid is now the high school principal and I think he’s still pissed he couldn’t get me off the monkey bars from the way he glowers at me when I’m waiting on him in the hardware store.”
     Lance didn’t laugh. I looked at him. He was watching me, a much more serious expression on his face than I expected.
     “What?” I asked.
     “What? Annie, you know what. We love each other and can’t live together. I don’t know if it’s your outlaw nature or my need for tranquility that brings on the fights. Whichever, we bring out the best and the worst in each other.”
     I looked at Lance with dread. Surely he wasn’t dumping me. No, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. What would I do without him?
     “What are you saying?”
     “Are you willing to give us another try? And this time, try to understand that we are two different people whose basic personalities are nowhere near the same. I need to do that, too. I want you to be more sedate and that’s not in your nature. You want me to be more of a daredevil and that’s not in my nature. Can we just understand we’re different people who love each other like mad but can’t change our basic personalities? I know. I’ve got to work on that as well as you do.”
     “Lance . . .” I didn’t know what to say. I felt the same way.  I knew our love for each other was strong, but was I strong enough to not give in to my fiery disposition? I would have to be if I wanted this man in my life forever. “Lance, all I can tell you is that I will do my best.”
     “That’s all I needed to hear.” He leaned over, gave me a gentle kiss, and asked, “Do you want to move in tomorrow?”

Fear of Love

      “You did what?!”

     I looked at Danny in amazement. This was the last thing I expected from Danny. The very last thing.
     “I’m sorry, Teri. I had to tell her.”
     ‘Her’ being his wife. 
     “I thought we had decided to end this, no one the wiser but us.”
     Danny looked at the floor. I could not imagine what he thought was so interesting in the worn sculptured carpet.
     “I don’t want to end this,” he finally replied.

     Great. Complications. I turned my back to Danny, looked across my studio apartment toward the king-size bed where we had spent several intense afternoons. 
     I loved Danny. He had come into my life when I didn’t even realize I needed someone and our personalities meshed in a way I hadn’t thought would ever be possible again after the death of my husband. Yes, he told me up front he was married, and had no intentions of leaving his wife. Yes, I knew what we were doing was wrong, but since I had meant to live the rest of my life alone, I had buried my morals deeply and allowed my love for Danny to override my good common sense.
     Now . . . now I was going to have to figure out how to deal with a scorned woman. One that I had really done wrong to, not one who just assumed that I was after her man. Well, I wasn’t really after this one’s man, either; falling in love with Danny wasn’t anything I had expected nor hoped for when we met at a concert, waiting in line for a Maker’s and Coke.

     “When?” I needed to know how long I had before I had to leave town.
     “This morning, at breakfast.”
     “What a way to start your wife’s day,” I told him, turning to stare at this man whom I had suddenly discovered I knew less about than I knew about the current President. “Why today?”
     “It’s my birthday.” Great. Something else I didn’t know. “I knew she had planned a party and I couldn’t face pretending I was happy any longer.”
     Oh, boy.  “And you think . . . never mind. You didn’t think.” I turned my back to Danny again. 

     “Teri . . . ” he began. 
     “Go on,” I told him. “It can’t get worse . . . or does it?”
     “Well . . . ” he began and stopped again.
     “No! Don’t you dare tell me that!” I knew what was coming next. She had tossed him out and he was ready to move in here. That I was definitely not ready for.
     He evidently knew what I was thinking. “Where am I to go?” he asked.
     “There are a dozen motels on the way out of town.” I paused. “And this apartment will be vacant by tomorrow afternoon.”
     I was going to have to find somewhere that would tolerate a cat whose main talent was shredding curtains. Damn! I needed to get packed and out of here now!
     At least it was near the end of the month so I wouldn’t lose an entire month’s rent money. Guess there is a silver lining to every cloud . . .

     “Danny . . . ” I started, then stopped. I didn’t know how to talk to this man any longer. We had had many interesting conversations, I had laughed at his inane jokes, but when it came to seriously considering living together, I was tongue-tied and panicked. Oh, boy.
     “Danny, you need to leave. I need to pack.” Thankfully this studio apartment came fully furnished so all I had to pack was clothes, toiletries and Cuddles’ food and toys.  
     “Why?” he asked.
     I could not believe he actually asked ‘why.’ Men can be so dense at times. Did he not think his wife would come looking for me with revenge on her mind? Well . . . being as I didn’t know the woman, not even what she looked like, I wasn’t sure she would do that, but with a woman scorned, anything is possible.
     “Because . . .” Hell. I didn’t need to give him a ‘because’ . . . I turned to look at Danny again. 
     “Because I need to be out of town before your wife comes looking for me, and leaving is the only way I know to end what we had decided last night to end, for once and for all.” 
     I looked down at the sculptured carpet. Maybe it was that interesting. “Danny, I love you to the depths of my being, but we cannot be together.”
     I looked back up at Danny. “You need to leave.”

     I saw the hurt in his eyes, the disbelief. I shook my head when he reached for me and started to speak. I knew if he touched me, I could not stand my ground, could not turn away from him another time. I could not explain my fear of letting him fully into my life for I do not know where that fear comes from.

     I watched Danny drive away, my heart breaking as his car disappeared around the corner. The only love I would ever know for the rest of my life I sent away. I decided that living alone was what I needed to do, at least until I could find the source of my fear. 
     “Someday I’ll come back and tell him the truth. Tell him why he had to leave and I have to live alone. Someday when I understand it myself.”