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hazy, foggy, Casablanca-type quality. Her David-her ex-David-became her focus with the background a
blur. Déjà vu had her mind in a tailspin. Maybe she'd fallen asleep in the bath and this was all a dream?
He'd done so many wonderfully sensual things like this when they were married. Her subconscious
could have been dredging them up. Yeah, that had to be it. She was dreaming. She snaked her hand
along her side and pinched. "Ouch!" Geez, that hurt!
"Annie?"
David's voice pulled her from her observation. She was awake, and he'd gone to a lot of trouble. The
least she could do was remain coherent. "Hmm?" His chuckle, his old familiar chuckle, filled the room
and despite her attempts to ignore it, warmed a special place in her heart. Obviously the place had
lingered there after the divorce.
"I didn't think you heard me. Have a seat. I'll heat the tea again," he said.
Like a robot, she moved to the chair and sat as he pulled it away from the table. David scooped up the
mug and headed towards the microwave. He'd worn his jeans, her favorite ones, which had a whitish
"wear and tear" mark on the rear pocket from where he always carried his wallet. But she wasn't
looking at his pocket. The material hugged him so closely, she had to swallow again. She should have
given them to Goodwill years ago. It wasn't like David to wear worn clothes. She looked at the table, but
it was like David, the old David, to want to please her.
She sighed, and then blinked the foggy scene back to reality. She had to keep her mind clear. If she got
all entangled in the physical David, well, the morning's kissing scene came to mind. Tonight there was
no Maxi to interrupt. Nor anyone else for that matter.
"Here, love," he said.
As he set the tea mug down, she groaned. Did he have to keep calling her that? Since David wasn't the
devious type, she knew it had slipped out very naturally for him. But it still made her want to shake his
shoulders and shout to stop. Stop making her remember. Stop making her feel special. Stop making her
want him, again. But, for once, she knew better than to ask him not to call her love because it would hurt
his feelings. Hmm, maybe David was right-people do change.
But not enough in their case.
She took a sip-the darn tea had the perfect amount of sugar, the perfect amount of milk. "Thanks,
David." She took another sip to give herself time to think, but all she could do was taste the perfectly
fixed tea and remember how it used to be when they were together. "Look, you...didn't have to go
through so much trouble." Of course he didn't have to, but he obviously wanted to. After another quick
swig of tea, she said, "This is a nice surprise. Something smells yummy. Can I help do anything?"
He smiled. "You always were better at making gravy."
She stood, took her mug, and walked to the stove. David fiddled around with some things in the
refrigerator while Annie mixed flour into the meat stock in a pan on the stove. She still had no idea what
they were going to eat, but the growling in her stomach didn't care. She was famished, and it smelled
like a four star restaurant in the kitchen. Heaven knows her cooking never created such wonderful
aromas.
"All set, love?"
She paused her hand, then continued. "In a minute." Trying her damnedest to ignore his nickname for
her, she stuck a finger into the gravy, tasted it, and proclaimed it done. "So, what's for dinner?" she
asking, licking her finger.
He looked as if he would say something about her finger in her mouth, but instead he said, "Potatoes,
meat, and vegetables!" Just as Maxi had said. She and David looked at each other, sharing a laugh that
warmed the room better than the stove on full power.
At the table David placed spinach salads with warm bacon dressing onto their plates. She sat across
from him and looked up. It seemed as if they still belonged together. How could two people who still
loved each other remain apart? She knew she'd never stopped loving David and could tell he still felt the
same. So what went wrong?
Does the term "night and day" ring a bell? she asked herself.
With a forkful of salad crunching in her mouth, she admitted they were just too different. David was
neat. She was sloppy. Pessimism led David's actions, she was so optimistic that she rarely thought of
consequences before doing something. She swallowed and sighed. Why not admit the real reason she [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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