A PURRFECT VALENTINE 

A Just for Fun Friday Fiction

By Celia Jolley

Chad was enjoying the gathering.  Hey, he was a social guy, what could he say?  Who could blame him for soaking up the admiration of others, especially of the female gender.  He was quite popular with the girls, or should he say young women who usually gave him broad smiles while some blatantly flirted with him as he moved around the room shaking hands and visiting with this group and that.  Emphasis on group.  He avoided any attempt to get him one on one with a woman on the prowl.

He generally relished these writing conferences, but as a book agent he picked his clients very, very carefully.  His standard rule was to never socialize with an author outside of work.  Not ever!  He even replaced his office door for one with a window and had the secretary randomly walk by to check that everything was copacetic if he was meeting with a woman.

Chad never figured out why the female species was so attracted to him.  He'd even quit wearing cologne hoping that would help.  However in spite of his reputation, he had not dated in a really, really long time, not since the Christy catastrophe.  Chad Sharp wanted nothing to do with a woman hence forth.  Burned once, twice shy.  In other words,  now he was girl shy.   

His ex-girlfriend had been a psycho.  To this day, Chad had no idea what had attracted him to such a crazy.  What started out as simply asking a beautiful woman out on a date, then turned into seeing each other exclusively, which then quickly turned south.  She morphed into a clinging, jealousy-crazed mental case.  If he hinted at breaking up with her, she got suicidal.  She called him constantly and texted.  If he hadn't put his phone on silence, his work would have been interrupted every fifteen minutes.  Christy would constantly be waiting for him outside his office or outside his place.  Thank goodness he had changed the locks on his house or she would have kept on surprising him in his home.  It got old really fast.  He was so relieved when her family finally sought help for her and had her hospitalized, then carefully monitored her medicine.  He wished her well.

So now he only looked but did not touch another female and did not intend to.  Who knew what lay beneath the beauty parlor dye jobs with their perfect cuts and sleek straightening, or what was underneath their perfect makeup and alluring lips.  There might be a huge cat inside that would leap out and sink its claws and teeth into him again.  No thanks.  Bled there and done that.

Thus, he was surprised when a young woman elbowed her way to him and handed him a letter.

"What's this?" 

"It's a letter I promised your grandmother to hand deliver to you."  She blushed, he blushed.  It was embarrassing to have his grandmother brought up in front of his peers and potential clients."

"How do you know my grandmother?  I've never seen you before."

"She's my friend," she answered before slipping back out.

He looked down at the letter, then up as he watched her leave the conference room.  His grandmother lived six hundred miles away from where this conference was being held, so why was this lady showing up here?  It didn't make any sense.

"Your grandmother's friend?  What do they do together, quilt?" one of the young women said scoffed.

"Maybe they scrapbook together," one said giggling. 

"Perhaps they knit," another smirked.

"Or it could be they bake pies together," another one added before accidentally snorting which turned the rest of them into laughing hyenas, the whole pack of them.

"Excuse me," he said no longer desirous of their attention.

He walked towards the men's room to be left alone, but even in there, a young man who had been washing his hands began pitching his book. "

If you wouldn't mind, make an appointment so I can better listen.  Excuse me," he sighed and went to hide inside a stall wondering what was so important about this letter.  Hopefully it wasn't bad news.  He broke the wax seal, his grandmother was old fashioned like that, and unfolded the thin parchment to read.  Chad couldn't remember the last time he had had a personal letter, other than a Hallmark card here or there on his birthday.

"Dear Chad,

I pray for you daily for growth in your business success and growth in your heart as well."

His heart was sealed off quite well at the present, thank you.  He'd even kept God out lately as it was less painful.  He continued to read.

"It is my hope that you establish yourself in your work, in a fellowship of believers, and in a relationship with a godly woman.  Have you met anyone yet?  Perhaps you just did."

What was that about, he wondered?  Surely she didn't mean the young lady who had delivered the letter.  There had only been time for a brief exchange of words before she ran off.

He shook his head as if to shake out the cotton that seemed to be stuffing itself in there.  He read on.

"I would love to see some grandchildren before I die, oh, and I would love to see you sometime in the meanwhile.  Don't worry, I'm fine.  But you never know.  Each one of us is only one breath from heaven."

Grandkids?  She expected him to produce grandchildren?  That wasn't happening without a little woman and a picket fence, which certainly wasn't in his future.  "Sorry, Grams," he whispered.  "I hate to disappoint you, but that isn't even on my radar."

"I've included a Forever Stamp as a reminder to put it on my wedding invitation.  Stick it in your wallet until you need it."  

The stamp had a heart on it.  His grandmother had a dry sense of humor.  He could just imagine the gleam in her eye as she wrote that.  Nevertheless, he got out his wallet and put the stamp there for safe keeping.  She had signed off in her elegant hand, which now that he noticed, was a little shakier than it used to be.  "Hmm, maybe I better visit her soon, maybe  next month," he mumbled under his breath.  But the beginning of the year was extremely busy, too busy.  

Chad carefully folded the letter with its lilac scent his grandmother always wore, placed it carefully in its envelope and stuck it in his sport coat jacket.  Oh well, back to the conference.  It was time for lunch and a break from his fans.  A bunch of his guy friends had planned to eat together, in a female free zone.  He appreciated that most of the married men chose not to fraternize with the opposite sex at these conferences.  Watching married men flirt was disgusting.

He found his friends but sat at a table near but not with them as he grabbed a magazine.

"Hey Chad, what's got you so distracted?  You're usually the guy with the most stories about crazy inquiries.  What's up?"

 

He pulled himself away from his thoughts and back into the conversation.  "Let's see, there was this guy just now in the bathroom who decided to pitch his book about an alien and his dog.  He named it Leader since each of his fellow aliens always said, 'Take me to your leader.'  His adventures with his pet went downhill from there before I could cut him off."

"You're kidding me," one of his friends chortled.

"Hey wait, perhaps that idea could be expanded on," his friend from the juvenile department said while wiggling a sugar packet before it burst all over the table.  "Oops.  Sorry."

"Not my department," Chad said. I only do adult fiction, the clean variety.  I sure wish people would figure that out and quit sending me their garbage.  They need to read up on what type of editors take which kind of writing," he said after ordering a bacon burger and fries.

Still he was so distracted by his grandmother's letter that he wished he had time to go to his hotel room and call her.  But by the time the conference workshops and special speakers were finished, it was way past her bedtime.  In all his meetings the rest of the long weekend, he'd soon forgotten and only absently wondered where that scent of lilac was coming from.  

Occasionally though, the face of that mystery lady rose above all the other faces he'd met at the conference.   She'd had long brown hair with a bit of a wave to it, lovely eyes, and cheeks flushed from embarrassment or something.  Her clothing was nothing fancy and more modest than most of the other woman attending, which also caught his eye.  Lastly, Chad remembered seeing her black ballet flat as she escaped out the door.  That was the last he would ever see her he was sure.  Soon even memories of her faded in the blur of the conference and getting back on his schedule.

When he got home, he paid the kid he had hired to watch his dog while he was gone.  Then he sank down in his leather recliner, and scratched his dogs ears.  "Hey Charger.  Maybe I should have named you Leader.  What do you think, huh?  Want a cookie, boy?"

He groaned as he sat up and followed his dog into the kitchen where the box of treats were in the cupboard.  "Sit.  Good boy."  He tossed it up in the air watching how his dog snatched it up and devoured it. "Careful, buddy.  It looks like you put on some pounds while I was gone.  How much did that kid feed you anyway?"

Then he sank back into his chair and flipped on the T.V.  to watch the games he'd taped while away.  "Now this is more like it," he sighed in happiness.  "Home sweet home with no little woman in sight."  That was his last niggling thought of his grandmother's letter for the next few weeks, that is until he put on the same sport coat which held the letter.  The smell of lilacs reminded him that it was still there.

"Sorry, Gram, I completely forgot about this.  I promise I'll write or call you soon," he muttered under his breath. He wished she texted.  It was the most painless way to talk to people.  It took little effort.  You didn't have to hear their voices and stall around trying to think of something nice to say.  You could text from anywhere at anytime and they could read the message at their leisure.  But best of all, you could keep it succinct.  Chad threw the jacket on and walked out the door to go to church.  It was his New Year's resolution to go at least once a month. This way, if his grandmother called, he could answer in the affirmative that yes indeed, he went to church.

However, trying to make it past the bevy of cooing quail that had scurried his way as soon as the pastor said amen, he was reminded of another reason he had quit going.

"Nice to see you again, ladies, but I need to leave and call my grandmother,"  He squirmed when they all said, "Ahh, that's so sweet!" like it was the most precious thing in the world.  Well, it was, but that didn't mean he liked them putting in their two cents worth.  "Excuse me." he mumbled before finally breaking free.  He had the urge to raise his fists in the air on the church steps and yell "Freedom!" at the top of his lungs like in Braveheart."  But of course, he refrained.

Chad ran to his car, clicking the lock open and climbed in as fast as he could.  He loved hearing the lock go ding, ding, at times like this, sealing him off from the world, at lease from the female quarters.  Maybe he should see a counselor, but he didn't think he was truly a woman-hater, just a woman avoider.    Yep, that was it.

When he came home with his order of hot wings, he and his buddy Steve turned on the game and enjoyed themselves, even though their team lost.  

"It's a good thing Joe isn't here or he'd be gloating right now," his friend said.

"Yeah, but wait till the next match up.  It will be our turn to gloat."

Just then his phone rang.  It was his grandmother.  "I got to take this, sorry man," he said heading back toward his room.  "Don't let my dog grab any wings while I'm gone."

"Hey gram, how are you?  I  got your letter.  Wait, when did you learn to do facetime on your phone?"  He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand hoping he didn't have sauce from the wings all over his face.  Chad still felt like a little kid around his grandmother.

"Yes, my friend told me she gave it to you personally though you were surrounded by eager writers."

"It was nice of her to deliver it, but why was she so far away if she's your friend?"

"Sweetheart, why don't you answer that?"  His grandmother swerved the phone towards the young lady whose eyes immediately grew huge before she turned away shaking her head.  

"I don't need to talk with him, Mrs. Sharp.  You can explain while I take these dishes to your kitchen."

"Is she your housekeeper, Gram?" he asked as he observed her over his grandmother's shoulders.

"Oh, heavens, no.  Just a friend.  And to answer your other question, when I found out she was interested in attending this writers conference, I decided to help send her.  Regrettably, she said she didn't register in time to sign up for any of your workshops.  According to her, you're quite popular and your slots fill up early.  But she did meet an agent, Sally Wenforth.  Do you know her?"

"Yes, she's from another publishing group, but we've met here and there.  What kind of genre does your friend write in?"

"Honey, Chad wants to know what kind of genre your work is in.  That's what I thought," his grandmother smiled.  "She writes Christian romance.  Her stories are quite good.  I enjoy them."

"Perhaps you're a little biased, Gram."  Just then he saw the gal walk back through to gather more dishes.  When she glanced up, he could she her cheeks were flaming.

"Chad.  I have read such books all my life.  I know a good story when I read one."

"Okay, of course, I'm sure you're right, Gram."

"I'm going to have her send you her latest, just so you can see for yourself."

"I don't even know her name, Gram.  She didn't stick around long enough for that.  But you still didn't tell me how you two are friends."

"Oh, that's easy, we became friends at water aerobics.  She's my teacher.  We just hit it off and go to lunch  together after every class and now attend church together."

"You do water aerobics, Gram?"  His grandmother was astonishing him.

"Of course, as well as a group walk every other day.  I'm trying to stay fit so I can live until you get married and have some grandchildren for me to play with."

"About that Grams, you know how the whole thing with Christy soured me on dating.  I have no wish to go down that road again."

"Not every young woman is psycho, Chad.  Come to the party!" She then dropped her voice and whispered, "I wish you could meet my friend, Chad.  I really think you'd hit it off." 

He swallowed his groan and said, "Hey, I have company so I need to let you go.  Love you lots, bye."

She blew him a kiss and hung up.  Wow, his grandmother surprised him by doing water aerobics, a group walking class, and making friends with her twenty-something water aerobics teacher.  Not only that, she learned how to do facetime.  Her friend must have helped her do that, he was sure."

When he returned to the living room, he was relieved his dog had survived eating the rest of the wings because Steve had fallen asleep on his couch and was snoring away like a chainsaw.  Man, did that guy have sleep apnea or what?  He'd tell him to get in for a sleep test as soon as he could.  It wouldn't hurt for him to lose a few pounds either.  Most guys don't get it until they were older.  But when you live alone, there's no one to tell you how much you snore.  "Do I snore?" he asked aloud waking Steve up.

"Sorry, man.  I just can't seem to catch a good night's sleep any more."

That was Chad's opening to tell him how loudly he was sawing logs and how often he quit breathing in between.

"Really?  I quit breathing?  That's scary."

"It's hard on your heart, buddy.  Get thee to a sleep study!"

"Don't go all Shakespeare on me, now," Steve said before yawning.  "I better get home.  Thanks for inviting me over for the game and for the wings, not to mention your comfy couch."

"We'll do it again real soon."

Back at work the next day, the agent his grandmother mentioned on the phone yesterday was calling him. "Hey, Sally, how are you doing?  Was that a great conference or what?  Okay, I'll be looking for it when you send it.  So it's not your kind of thing?  Sure I'll give it a glance if you think it's worthwhile.  I appreciate it.  Thanks.  Bye."

Chad shook his head.  He wondered when he'd earned the reputation as the go-to editor of Christian romance.  "It's not the only kind of work I look at," he grumbled in his office.  So, when the other agent sent it to him, he did not look at it for a week.  After all since the conference, he was in overload.  He'd probably taken on too many authors as it was.  But his curiosity got pricked, so he decided to at least peruse what the other agent sent to him.  

The new author's story kept him up till 1:00 am.  He was a fast reader, but this was one he could not put down.  The writer had a clever use of words, sometimes in such beautiful phrases that he marked certain pages to return to.  The plot was the usual formula, yet had a twist to keep it interesting.  Besides, it was easy to read as it already well edited with hardly any grammatical errors.  He looked at the name.  Davey Kipling.  Odd.  Most Christian romances were written by women.  Perhaps that's why the author developed the men's characters so well.  Monday morning first thing he'd send off an email to that Sally Wenforth to thank her and ask her to go ahead and let the author know that he'd take on the guy's work.

He was knee deep in work when his grandmother called.  This was unusual to hear from her again so soon.  

"Hello, dear, I just wanted to tell you how excited we are to hear from Sally Wenforth that she sent my friend's story to your agency!" She was facetiming again.  "Say hi to Davey, Chad."

The young lady gave a shy wave in the background before blushing and dropping her eyes.  However, he was speechless.  Finally he stuttered, "You.  You are Davey Kipling?"

She looked up and gave a tiny smile.

Chad swallowed and stammered, "I read your book this last weekend, and you have talent.  It will be a pleasure to work with you."  He heard his grandmother squeal.

"You personally will be her agent?  This is so exciting Chad!  I told you it was good, didn't I."

He found his grin and happily agreed with her.  "Yes, you did.  But Ms. Kipling, I'll be getting back to you soon.  Sally gave me all your contact information.  I had no idea that you were Davey.  I have to admit, I thought you were a man."

His grandmother spoke for her little friend, "Her name is Davina, but she doesn't like that name.  Well, we won't keep you from your work--wait a minute, this is your work." She giggled.  "Now maybe you'll come see your grandmother to meet with Davey.  Let me know when you can come.  Bye, dear."

Wow, his grandmother had slyly maneuvered him into agreeing to go on a trip to see her, and well, the author too.  It wasn't that usual to travel to see authors, but most of what was involved was accomplished by phone or online.  He was still grinning and shaking his head when his secretary knocked on his door.  "Ms. Harrison is here to see you."

"Ms.  Harrison?  I thought I'd sent her a rejection letter."

"I'll tell her you can't see her."

"Please do."  

Just then the woman pushed her way into his office invading his personal space uninvited.  He groaned.  Now he remembered her from the last conference.  Her perfume saturated his office giving him an instant headache.  Well, maybe the woman herself contributed to that.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Harrison, but you do not have an interview, and I can't see you now or later.  I thought you had understood that I would not be your agent."

The woman wore provocative clothing, tight and eye-grabbing in the wrong way.  She sat down in the chair across from him and leaned forward revealing too much so that he would not look her in the eye.  "I'm sure you can afford me a minute."

"I must insist that you leave my office.  Now."

"Are you sure sugar?  I thought perhaps we could go to lunch and have the opportunity to discuss this in a more intimate setting."

"No.  Please leave now."  He went back to his computer completely ignoring the brash thing.

Finally, the woman got up huffing and stomped out of the door.  His secretary peeked in and said timidly, "Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault.  She's the one who pushed past you.  I remember now that I had read a couple of chapters at the writer's conference.  It was too explicit and not anything that we would publish.  There's plenty of others who will publish that smut if she had the talent, which she doesn't.  It was so dirty, it made me want a bath."

"Yuk!" his sweet motherly secretary said shuddering.  "She was awful."

"Couldn't agree more.  I hope I don't have any more people to see today.  I'm buried up to my eyebrows.  Oh, and can you clear my schedule for Friday, February 12?   I'm going to meet a new author, who just so happens to be my grandmother's best friend."

"Oh, I admire women who are brave enough to go after a writing career in their golden years."

He coughed.  "Actually, she's younger than me.  She's my grandmother's water aerobics coach at her senior center."

"That's rich," she giggled.  "I'm sure I can block out your schedule then.  I'll leave you to it now."

Chad worked only a half day in his office on Thursday, the 11th, after having decided to leave early.  He hurried to throw some clothes in his gym and garment bags.  "I can't forget your dog food, buddy.  Gram loves it when you come with me.  She hasn't had a heart to get a new dog after hers passed away, but has adopted you as her grand-dog." His good boy just tilted his head as if listening attentively.  "I don't know why I'm talking to you pretending you understand everything I'm saying.  I'm pathetic."

It was late when he arrived.  He had called ahead and had asked his grandmother to just leave the door unlocked for him.  His dog remembered where they were going and bounded up the stairs.  But before he could turn the door knob, the door swung open.  Even his dog was surprised and gave a startled woof.

"Oh, aren't you a cute big guy!" the strange woman cried.  For one conceited minute, he thought she was talking to him, but his dog was eating up being scratched behind his ears.

"You're not my grandmother," he managed to say though still stunned.

Her laughter was like a brook bubbling.  "No, I'm Davey, Davey Kipling."

"But what are you doing here so late?"

"Come on in.  We're letting all the cold air in."

He followed her into the living room where he found the foldout love seat, well, folded out.

"What's going on?"

"Your grandmother was upset after an incident at my apartment building and urged me to move in with her.  She said she always wanted to support a starving artist, well a struggling writer in my case.  She insisted."

"I see," Chad said looking everywhere but at her.  He hated foldout couches.

"She also insisted that I keep my room when I offered to let you have it.  I truly wanted to stay on the couch, but  you know your Grandmother.  She put her foot down.  Sorry."  The poor woman couldn't talk at all without blushing.

"Not your fault.  It is what it is."

For a brief second he considered finding a hotel, but in this small town the choice was limited.  He put on his happy face and said, "This is fine.  I've slept on it many times growing up."  He still remembered every lump and wished he at least had one of those foam egg crate things.

"Can I get you anything?"

His dog scratched to go out the back door.  "No, I'm fine.  I stopped and ate dinner on the way."  He walked through the kitchen to let Charger out.

She followed him there getting a glass and filled it with cold water.  "I like your dog," now her shyness was back in full force.  Even saying something as simple as that made her blush.

"Me too.  He's good company.  He's nice to come home to."

"It's so much nicer coming home here than to my empty apartment.  Of course, your grandmother is spoiling me and always has a meal ready when I get home from work.  But then she leaves me alone to write in my room."

His dog scratched to be let in.  The weariness was catching up to him.  "Listen, I'm going to go to bed now.  Driving here through the snow was a bit of a strain."

"Of course.  Well, goodnight."  She followed him through the kitchen turning off the light and left him in the living room while she took the second bedroom on the left in his grandmother's small bungalow.  His great grandfather had ordered this house from Sears Roebuck, of all things.  It had character even though its bones groaned when the wind blew hard like it was doing now.

Chad didn't know when he'd felt so discombobulated.  Should he be upset that his grandmother had opened her home to the young thing?  Was he upset that she stole the bed right out from under him and stuck him with this stupid couch?  It would be more awkward than ever mixing his visit home, with getting a new author to print.  Charger jumped up beside him so he yawned it all away and went to sleep.

He woke to the smell of bacon.  That was the siren call that lured him out of bed.  He padded into the kitchen and hugged his grandmother from behind.  "Morning."

"Coffee's ready over there," she offered as she deftly flipped a piece of bacon.  "I never leave my bacon while its cooking.  It wouldn't do to set off the smoke alarm this early."

"Heaven forbid!" he agreed.  "Hey, why didn't you let me know about your new boarder?"

"Oh, it just happened this last week.  There was an armed robbery in the apartment next to her.  One bullet went right through the wall into her unit.  Scary stuff.  I insisted she come here and wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Wow.  It's good that she has you for her friend, I guess," he said while snatching a piece of bacon lying on a paper towel.

"Well hello there, Charger.  Do you want a piece of bacon too?"  His dog danced around, his claws clicking on the floor."  

"You shouldn't spoil my dog like that!" But he used that moment to try to sneak another one himself.

She pretended to slap Chad's hand away, but grinned.  "Some things never change.  But back to Davey, she insists on doing my cleaning for me since I refuse to let her pay rent.  She also drives me most places now."

"Where does she work?"

"Oh, here and there.  You'll have to ask her."

"Does she usually sleep in," he looked up at the clock.  It was 7:00 in the morning, the time he usually got up to go to work.

"She often stays up late doing her writing so it doesn't bother me if she does."

They sat down to a nice breakfast and Chad allowed the peacefulness to sink in.  His place was nice, but Grandma's was more like home.  "It's nice to be back here.  Sorry I haven't been back as often as I should."

"Oh well, Davey and I had a nice Thanksgiving dinner at the senior center and a blessed Christmas right here.  It was so nice to have someone else string the lights and decorate.

Chad squirmed.  That had been his job since he was a teenager until work had pulled him away.

"Have mom and dad been back much?"

"Not since last summer.  They were on a cruise over Christmas, remember, and are loving living in Florida.  Housing is cheaper there which helps to stretch their retirement budget.  I'm glad they are getting to enjoy this time of their life together."

It got quiet.  Chad took another sip of his coffee remembering how his grandfather had a heart attack and died the first week after he retired from his gas station.  "They don't make men like him much anymore, do they.  You two had a good thing going.  You don't see that kind of marriage around very often.  You must miss him."

His grandmother chuckled softly.  "Every day.  But you, young man, are letting life pass you by.  It's time you settled down and got a little balance in your life than just work and walking and talking to your dog."

"That reminds me.  I need to take Charger for a run this morning.  Burr.  It will be cold though."

His grandmother swatted his shoulder.  "You are a master at changing the subject, but I'm not done with you yet."

When he came back, his grandmother handed him an old towel to wipe the wet dog off with.  He walked in through the kitchen's mudroom and saw her boarder eating breakfast while reading the paper.  He noticed she was drinking out of the mug he'd given his grandmother, the "Martha Stewart doesn't live here"one.  Chad went to grab another cup of coffee.

"Is there anything earth shattering in the paper today?" he asked.

She put the paper down and Chad's mouth went dry.  She looked like an angel with the sunshine pouring in the kitchen window on her.  

She casually said, "Not really.  I think your grandmother gets it for the local news, but I get most my news online.  But I did convince your grandmother to listen to a different news channel."  

His grandmother walked over and patted the young woman's shoulder.  "I finally admitted to myself that Walter Cronkite was  dead and gone and let go of those silly news programs.  We don't listen too much anyway and would rather sit around and read Amazon kindle most evenings."

"You got her converted to that?  Where's our book market.  Promise me you'll at least buy a hardback of your favorite author who is sitting right here, Grandma. "

"Of course I will.  But when I can choose free books on Amazon Unlimited, it saves me so much money, not to mention book shelf space.  Look, I donated half my books to the senior center.  They were truly thankful."

He nodded.  "I'm impressed.  I just don't have much time to read unless it's untested authors, but when I do, it's usually an ebook.  Just don't tell my publisher that I said that."  

"Your secret's safe with us, dear.  Now I'll leave you two so you can talk publishing business."

Davey was so nervous, it made him nervous too.  Finally, after a couple hours of discussion, his nerves couldn't take anymore.  "Want to go for a walk and let all that set in?  We don't have to talk about it anymore right now if you like."

She heaved out a sigh.  "If only it was the pleasure of writing, but naturally there is the part putting it out there for readers.  But I find the business part overwhelming."

"That's why you have an agent.  I think we've covered enough bases for me to proceed, if I have your permission."

She nodded, "As long as we don't have to talk about it any more."

As Chad put a leash on his dog, he asked, "So no water aerobics today?"

"No, on Fridays the senior center rents out the facility to a local Christian school for swim class."

"So, that's only part time.  Do you do anything else to stay alive?"

"Yes, I'm a part time library aide in the afternoons for an elementary school.  That is fun, except when kids lose their books."

"So you must be an expert on children's literature."  Everything seemed to embarrass her making her blush, but she still continued to talk with him.  He had to lean forward to hear her soft voice though.  

"Hardly, but I try to read up on the shorter stories so I can recommend certain ones for certain kids."  She changed the subject, "I see you are a dog person?"

"Obviously," he grinned.  "I'm sorry, I guess I forgot to formally introduce you.  Ms. Kipling, I'd like for you to meet my best friend, Charger.  Charger, this is Ms. Kipling.

"How old is he?"

"About three years old.  Still a teenager," he grinned, "with boundless energy."

"Is he your favorite breed?"

"Yes, but tell me.  Are you a cat person, a dog person, guinea pig or mouse person?"

She jerked her eyes up to see if he was teasing.  "I've been called a mouse plenty of times because of how shy I am.  But if you are speaking of pets, I like cats okay, yet I have always wanted to have a dog.  The apartment didn't allow pets."

"What's your favorite breed?  Wait, don't tell me.  You'd like a Yorkie, wouldn't you?" he teased.

She laughed shyly.  "They're cute, but I like the look of a hound like yours.  If I couldn't have a big dog, I'd probably choose a mini dachshund."

"They are stubborn little things.  Nobody has told them that they aren't big dogs evidently."

She laughed a little louder.  "True.  My best friend had one that would try to take on bigger dogs.  But its chutzpa luckily convinced other dogs to leave her alone."

"Small, but mighty.  But getting back to what you said about being called a mouse, I can understand why someone who doesn't know you might think that.  However, after having read your story with a strong woman as the main character, I wouldn't dare call you a mouse."

More blushing.  "Thank you.  That's encouraging.  I know what I think, but bite my tongue a lot.  Perhaps that's one reason I love to write."

"I think you are more like a cat than a mouse.  A cat is independent and doesn't care what others think.  They might let you pet them, but nobody truly owns one.  They are sleek, and carry themselves like royalty."

"And they have claws."

"Don't I know it."

"You've had the claws in you before, I take it."

"Oh, yeah.  It's why some say I'm in the woman-hater club, but I'm more in the girl-shy club.  I prefer to keep my distance."

"Then I must feel pretty special having this time talking with you."

That stunned him.  He was walking with a beautiful young woman, talking with her, and wasn't feeling like he had to keep a shield up.  It had been a long time since he had been this relaxed around a female.

"Are you cold?  Do you want to go in?"  They had circled the block.

"I'd better.  I need to go grab a bite to eat before heading off to the school.  Fridays are always busy days in the library."

He opened the gate and they walked around the house to come in through the mudroom.  His grandmother had tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches ready for them.  "This is perfect.  Thank you Grandma."  He was thinking of a certain someone who seemed pretty purr-fect herself.  He wiped his hand across his face in an effort to wipe those thoughts away.  After taking his knit hat off, he was sure his hat left enough static electricity to make his hair stick up all over, so he swiped his hand over that as well.

They were quiet as they ate listening to Gram talk about people he knew from a long time ago.  But his mind was on the young lady sitting across from him.  He did not like that, not at all.  He thought himself immune to girls.  However, his eyes kept slipping over to stare at her.  His grandmother got a funny smile on his face when Davey left for work.  When she was safely gone, he pointed his finger at his grandmother and said, "Don't say it.  Don't even go there in your mind.  It's just strictly business."  

Good grief, now she was smiling even bigger.  "Whatever you say, dear."

"Listen, how about if I take you and your little boarder out to dinner tonight.  You like that Italian place, right?"

"That sounds perfect."

He almost groaned.  Every time he heard that word, it made him think of a certain someone who was purr-fect.

That night just before they went out the door, his grandmother grabbed his arm and said, "You wouldn't be offended if I asked you to drop me off at Edith's, would you?  Her sister Esther is in town, and this is my only chance to see her.  I'd forgotten that they had invited me over tonight."

He looked suspiciously at his matchmaking grandmother, while she put on her most innocent face.

"We can stay home," Davey said.  "We don't need to go out.  Maybe we could do that after church on Sunday."

"I'd take you then too, but I'm looking forward to her Sunday pot roast before I go home.  But right now, I'm all set to eat Italian food.  Is that okay with you, Davey?"  Her hair looked so sleek in this dry air that he almost reached out to touch it, or rather pet her as if she was a cat, but was afraid of getting bit.

She shyly smiled at him and nodded.  He swore that if she was a cat, she'd be holding her tail high like she was above mere earthlings.  He shook his head as he held his grandmother's elbow to make sure she didn't slip on the way to his car, even though he'd shoveled the walk and salted it that afternoon.

After taking his grandmother to her friends and walking her to their door, he got back in the car rubbing his hands.  "Whew it's cold out there.  The temperature starts dropping before the sun even thinks about setting."

She nodded, but it was a quiet ride to the restaurant.  Great, he thought.  I can't even talk to the woman.  He felt every bit as inept as when he went on his first date.  Good grief, he was normally Mr. Social personified, so what was with all this tongue swallowing?  

They both broke the silence at the same time.  Very awkward indeed.  "You go ahead," he offered.

"Okay, I was just going to say, I've never been to this restaurant before."

"It's a long time family business, so I've been here several times through the years.  Wait till you get a look at their Mama Mia's eye shadow.  I'll bet you've never seen anything like it.  And wait till you hear the Italian opera music in the background.  Nevertheless, they can cook crazy good food.  Even one of those Food Channel people came here once to feature their place.  I'm sure they will have the pictures to prove it plastered all over their walls."

"Sounds good."  

But then he was parked and said, "Wait here."  

He walked around the car, opened the door and helped her out.   She looked at him dazed.  No one had ever done that for her before.  Not even her one and only boyfriend from her distant past.

They walked in together with his hand on her back.  She could even feel it through her winter coat.  He'd made reservations, so their host seated them right away in the busy place.

"It must be good if they are this full.  It smells so delicious I could faint."

"Swoon.  The proper word in your vernacular, I believe, is "swoon," he said with a straight face.

She giggled and turned a pretty shade of pink.  "I believe, sir, that you do live and breath literature, and have even mastered budding-romance-novel-speak.

Chad grinned, then realized he was happy.  But then he also realized he was somehow on a date.  He almost panicked.  After a few deep breaths he was somewhat calmed down.

"She leaned over the table and said, "Are you okay, Chad?"  Her breath made the candle flame dance.  

"I'm fine.  What looks good to you on the menu tonight?  It's on me."

"Okay, thanks.  Of course, I'll go with the chicken alfredo.  How about you?"

"He tried to refocus his eyes off her lovely face and onto the menu.  It was like he'd never eaten here before.  Finally he remembered that he always ate their lasagna."

After they ordered, the scrambling for something to say affected them both in a very juvenile manner.  They were saved when a toddler leaned over the both next to them and made a grab for her hair with his chubby hands covered in spaghetti sauce.  

"Look out!" Chad said as she ducked out of his reach. 

Fortunately, his mother caught him in time.  "Sorry," she said while they convulsed in laughter.

"Maybe you ought to sit over here by me.  It might be safer from another attack of the spaghetti monster."  She grinned.  "You're right.

But then when she sat right next to him, he could feel her warmth drawing him in. When she waved at the toddler's reappearance, her arm brushed him leaving him as helpless as if he'd been wounded in sword fight.  Good grief.  He had to get a hold of himself!  He had no idea what was wrong with him.  He didn't even like girls.

She noticed, however, the way the waitress made eyes at him, beaming her smile with red lips and sparkling white teeth at him.  It made her want to growl.  Didn't the woman notice that she was there with him.  So what if the waitress didn't know that it wasn't a real date.  It just looked like a real date and almost felt like a real date.

Suddenly he was asking her something.  "Sorry, I guess my mind was wandering."

"Wool-gathering.   Another period term."

He made her giggle again, but then she drawled, "You're sure as shooting right, mister.   Why I'd better rustle up those wandering doggies and hog tie 'em before they get loose again and run off to hide in some ravine before I can brand 'em."

That made him guffaw out loud.  Even the toddler peeked over to see what was so funny.  He grinned thinking that it must be him, so he began to play peek-a-boo.  That only caused the spaghetti sauce to smear even more across his face, which kept them laughing even more.  The baby looked proud to provide them with his entertainment.

Their next amusement was meeting Mama Mia herself as she went table to table making sure all her customers were enjoying themselves.

"I wonder how she manages to keep her eyes open with all that eye shadow?" Davey said in wonder.

"Didn't I tell you?" he said smugly.

Then the waitress brought their food smiling big again at Chad.  "Can I get you anything else, sir?" she said ignoring her.

"That's all we need for now, thank you.  Oh, do you still have the Parmesan grinder?"

"Yes, I'll bring it right to you," she smiled like she was pleased at punch to do anything, anything at all for the handsome man.

"Boy, I'd hate to be your wife," she said as she took her first bite.

"Huh?"  

First he had to wait for her to finish chewing, then for the waitress to grind the cheese, before she could answer.  She hadn't meant to say it out loud.  She was a rather dark shade of pink now.

"Um, I just mean you're a very handsome man, unmercifully so, and women can't help but be attracted to you, not that you flirt or anything.  I saw it at the writers conference as well.  If I was married to you, I'd have a hard time not being jealous every time we went out in public."  She shrugged her shoulder as if this was a normal topic of conversation, but she was mortified she'd said all that.

He stared at her with his fork lifted but not coming anywhere near his mouth.  "You're teasing me, right?  You said, 'Unmercifully so,' right?  Good grief, woman, you have a way with words.  No one has ever said anything to me like that before."  He bent closer and said to her blushing face, "Did you think the waitress was flirting with me or something?"

"Duh!"  She put another big bite of Alfredo in her mouth to keep from talking.  He ate his lasagna in silence for a few minutes then grinned, "So you think I'm handsome and unmercifully so?"  

"Haven't you looked in a mirror?"

"Just to shave or to make sure my tie-or cravat as you romance writers like to call it-was knotted correctly.  You know you're not half bad yourself."

"What is this, a compliment fest?  You don't have to stretch it out, but thank you anyway."

He was leaning over whispering again.  "Don't you know how beautiful you are?"

She looked up shocked.  No one had ever said that to her before in her life, not even her first and last boyfriend, the one who made her sign off dating up till this very dinner."

"Haven't you looked in a mirror, yourself?" he said with a chuckle.  "If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, than I'm blinded with it for sure.  But it's not just me.  Didn't you notice that man we walked by who ogled you on our way to our table?"

She almost barked a laugh but caught it just in time.  "You are imagining things," she scoffed.

"Are you kidding me?" he said louder than he intended to.  He lowered his voice and said, "He made me want to poke him in the eyes like Moe in the Three Stooges.

She threw back her head and laughed.  The waitress walked by giving her a dirty look.  She elbowed him and said, "Did you see how she looked at me just now?"

"No."

"Oh, brother.  It is bothering her that we are having such a good time with each other, I think.  Try to motion her over to ask for more cheese and see her smile disappear  when she finds I'm the one asking for it."

It unfolded just like she predicted.  "Well, there goes her good tip," he mumbled.  "Women!"

"Men!" she said losing the smile off her face.

"So you've been wounded too, huh?"

She looked up at him with her almond shaped eyes, or as he preferred to call them, cat eyes, and said softly, "Takes one to know one, I guess.  Yes, I swore I'd never date again because men are so stupid and are jerks!"

"Thanks a lot."  He pretended to be stricken putting his hand over his heart.

"Not you.  You don't count."

"What?" he said loudly.  Wow, this lady had him strung on her yo yo going up and down.

"I just mean that this isn't a real date.  You intended to take your grandmother out, not just me."

"If I didn't want to go out with you, then we would have just ordered in some pizza or something instead of this."  But he knew he struggled with the concept of it being a real date too.  It was against his principles.

"Okay.  Well thanks.  I'm just surprised I'm having such a nice time with you, is all."

"Did you peg me as a jerk?"

"Most good-looking guys who have women fawning all over them like you do, are jerks."

"I guess we've got ourselves stuck in some kind of stereotype warp," he said as he glared down taking another bite.

"Is it good?' she asked.

"The stereotype thing?"

"No, silly," she giggled.  "Your lasagna.  I don't think I've ever tasted the real restaurant kind."

"Well, do you mind?  He forked up a bite and offered it to her."

"Not unless you have rabies."

"I don't, but I'll share as long as you don't have a fur ball to cough up right now."

They both began laughing so hard that he couldn't hold the fork still and she looked like a baby bird waiting for a worm.  "Just give it to me."  She grabbed his hand and guided it to her mouth.  That was a little too intimate than either of them had planned.

"Mmm.  Very good.  I still prefer my chicken alfredo, but this is delicious too."

The fork still hung empty in his hand with his gaze held tightly by her every word.  It didn't matter if she said the moon was a mozzarella ball because anything she said right now was fascinating to him just watching her lips form the words.  That is, until she cleared her throat.  It was his clue to go back to feeding himself.

"So you still are comparing me to a cat, are you.  I mean fur ball, really?"

She looked more tickled than mad, fortunately.  He didn't want to see her mad, except for glaring at flirty waitresses.  Now that was funny.  Chad could almost see her claws come out.

"Would you care for a dessert, sir, something sweet?" She smiled big enough to blind a poor unsuspecting guy the way her gleaming teeth put him in her bright lights.

He started to say, "No thank you," but Davey interrupted and said, "I'll have a dish of spumoni ice cream.  It made the waitress have to turn away from him frowning at Davey.  

It was so obvious that he snorted.  And played along. "I've changed my mind.  I'll have some tiramisu."  The waitress smiled open mouthed so that he could see her gold fillings in her molars.

"I think I'll have one of those too," Davey said smugly as they watched the smile fall off her face as the waitress turned back to her grimacing.

The girl left and they fell to snickering.  "See,"  she said.  "It's true.  That's why I'd hate for you to be my husband.  I wouldn't know if I could trust you out in public."

Any mirth that had lingered on his face disappeared.  "I can tell you one thing for sure, Miss Kipling, that if you married me, you'd never have to doubt my faithfulness."  He glared at her almost as sternly as the waitress had.

She swallowed.  "Well, I'm glad we cleared that up."  Just then the waitress came with their desserts, the desserts that Davey was too full to eat.  "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ordered these.  I'm so full."

"You were just being catty." He winked when she huffed.

Then she wilted.  "You're right.  I was.  I apologize."

"Hey, it was funny.  You made your point, but I hope I made my point too, you can trust me."  He looked over at her and their eyes locked while their spumoni melted.  Finally he dragged his eyes away and said "We'll get a box and take the tiramisu home to my grandmother.  But let's dig in to the ice cream before it melts the rest of the way."

"You better ask for the box.  She'd probably just give me a doggie bag." She smirked. "You know, a doggie bag since they don't offer cat bags."  

He just rolled his eyes.  Chad waved the waitress over and asked for a box politely.  The brazen hussy leaned down low and reached across him to get Davey's empty ice cream dish, as he leaned way back.  He was disgusted if she thought that was what it took to get his attention.  Davey was proud he'd looked away.

"Good grief!  Have some shame, woman," he mumbled as the waitress left swinging her ample hips.  

"I think you're right.  You would be trustworthy and will make someone a good husband someday."  She could say that to him because Davy knew with a certainty he wouldn't take it the wrong way knowing he was out of her league."

"I try to live a Christian life, well except for last year when I got in the habit of forsaking one another type of thing.  My New Year's resolution was to start going back to church on a more regular basis."

"That's good.   My New Year's resolution was to get my book published." He stuck his hand up for her to high five."

"I'll call my grandmother to see if she is ready for us to pick her up."

After they stopped by for his grandmother Judith, they laughed all the way home as they described the entertaining toddler and the waitress's bad behavior.   "Sounds like your dinner was more interesting than mine.  Edith's sister Esther fell asleep as soon as she sat on the couch after dinner, poor dear."

As they followed Judith into the house, Chad leaned down and said, "Thanks for going to dinner with me tonight.  I had a great time.  But I have to say, it was like none other I've ever experienced."  He once again put his hand on her back since his grandmother had hurried inside before he could help her in.  They walked more slowly and their conversation came out in puffs of frozen air as if they were cartoon captions.

""Like none other'?  I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing," she said looking up and wrinkling her nose.

"It's a good thing.  My life has gotten very boring.  I haven't laughed that much in a long time."

"I find that hard to believe.  You have an exciting career..."

"Turning away a multitude of wanna be writers and breaking their hearts."

"So you are a heart-breaker? Well, there is that.  But isn't there excitement finding buried treasure?"

"Yes, like your story."

She blushed.  "Thank you.  That was sweet."  He was sweet, a very nice man.  "And then there's your admiring public."

"That I could do without," he snorted in disgust.

"Don't forget your dog.  He's loyal."

He paused on the doorstep looking towards her face.  "You make everything else pale in comparison."

She sucked in a gasp which made her cough because the air was so cold.

"Let me get you inside, Miss Kipling."

As soon as they stepped into the house, his dog was whining and trying to lead him to the back door.  "I'm coming.  I'm coming you big beast."

The next day, his grandmother hurried them off to church.  He kept his hand possessively at her back as he watched several guys staring at her with appreciation.  As for Davey, she stuck close too.  "I'll try to warn away any predatory women with my scary frown."  He just smiled down at her and put his arm around her waist.  "This will probably work better."

Except it didn't do anything but distract her from listening to the sermon.  He kept his arm around her shoulders when sitting in the pew and back to her waist when they stood to sing.  His grandmother winked at him,  right there in church!  It felt too good keeping a hold of her to stop even when they got home.  

His grandmother insisted she didn't need their help finishing the dinner preparations, so after they walked his dog, they sat close together on her love seat where his arm settled around her shoulders.  Chad was glad that there wasn't room for a full couch in her small living room. His fingers began playing with Davey's hair.  He heard her sigh, so he snuggled closer.

"Dinner's ready."  His grandmother looked smugly at them.

He'd roll his eyes, but he was as confused as the Push Me-Pull Me two headed llama in Doctor Doolittle.   She felt good beside him.  He enjoyed being with her.  But she lived here and he lived down south a pace and he was leaving soon.  Besides, he was a confirmed woman-avoider.

"Guess what today is," his grandmother broke into his thoughts.  "It's Valentines Day!"

"Really?  I guess I forgot.  I should have bought you flowers, Grandma."

"Wait!" He ran outside without even putting his coat on.  Davey followed him out of curiosity.

"You better not be making snowballs, mister," she warned.  

"No, I'm making valentines.  You first.  He handed it to her making her laugh."

His grandmother took hers saying, "I'm putting mine in the freezer for safe keeping."

After dinner, they took Charger for a walk, then they sat closely together once again while his grandmother went in to have a Sunday afternoon nap.  He freely stroked through her sleek hair.  She sighed again.  "Are you purring?" he teased.

"It feels so purr-fect, so maybe I am."  

He chuckled and looked down at her.  "I'm glad I have that effect on even you."

"But you're leaving.  She scooted over away from him.  Shouldn't you take off soon so you won't be driving on black ice on your way home."  

He got out his phone and texted his secretary that he'd be staying another day.  "I'm not leaving until this time tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, but I have an aerobics swimming class in the morning and have to work in the library in the afternoon."

"You're a busy little bee, aren't you.  Well, I'll just have to go and watch you and my grandma do your water aerobics then."

She sat up straight and said in shock, "You can't do that!  You'd be too distracting."

"I'll be distracted alright," and he winked at her.

She huffed and crossed her arms trying to think what to do.  He'd see her in a swimming suit.  He'd see her scars, she thought. 

"Hey, come back over here.  We don't have much time left together."

She reluctantly scooted back over next to him before softly saying, "You know this is ridiculous, don't you.  I mean, you live a long ways away.  I'm just your client."

"That's certainly one way to look at it," he retorted but began playing with her hair again.  He could see her relax the more he stroked her, just like a cat.

"It is Valentine's Day.  It's okay to be sweet on each other just for today, isn't it?"

She sighed deeply.  "Sweet on each other? That's a romance novel term.  But for you, that's not how it works, unless of course you are taking a temporary vacation from your woman-hating club."

"I'm not a woman-hater, just girl shy, remember?  And today I'm feeling not as shy as usual, a tad bolder in fact, just this once."

But when she turned to look up at him, he looked down, down at her lips and kissed her as her eyes closed.  Then they shot wide open to glare at him.  "This isn't good.  Not good at all." Davey jumped up to go sit in his grandmother's rocking chair rocking to beat the band.  

"Sorry, I guess.  Just call that my Valentines Day kiss, and we'll leave it at that, okay?"  He looked sheepish.  But he added chuckling, "I didn't mean to rub your fur the wrong way."

Davey huffed looking out the window to the cold and finally nodded.  "It can't happen again though."

Chad rubbed his hand over his face.  "Okay."  He grabbed the remote and found a cheesy Hallmark movie special for Valentine's Day.  He thought about telling his secretary that he'd be there in the morning after all, but knew it was true that there would be plenty of black ice since the sunshine had done a good job of melting the snow into water which would then freeze into ice in the dropping temperature.  He was kicking himself now for not leaving after lunch as he'd planned.

Chad ignored the movie and just checked all his emails.  His eyes grew round as he gasped, "I can't believe it!"  Christy, his ex-girlfriend had texted him, "Happy Valentines Day.  Thinking of you," with plenty of kissy icons.  "Not again," he threw back his head and groaned.

"What's the matter?" Davey looked over from the rocker looking concerned.

"I thought all that was over, but my crazy ex just emailed me.  She's scary."

"Christy emailed you, Chad?"  His grandmother walked in with her hair a little flat on one side from her nap.  "That's not good."

"Tell me about it."

"But aren't you supposed to be heading back tonight?"

"Too much black ice to be safe, don't you think?"

"You're getting more sensible the older you get,  his grandma winked as she added, 
"and you are getting older." 

"You don't have to rub it in though," and he winked back acknowledging her machinations.

"I'll let you guys make your own roast beef sandwiches for supper, if you don't mind."

"I make one for you, Judith.  Hold the mustard, right?"

"Thank you, dear.  Did this movie just start?"

"A few minutes ago, but since it's recorded, I'll begin it over for you while we make our sandwiches," Chad offered.

"Thank you, dear," she replied sitting down in her rocker that Davey had just left.

Oh she was sneaky.  It would force them to sit back on her love seat.  Charger followed him clicking his toenail path into the kitchen.  If there was food, his dog was there.  "Do you truly love me or is it just that I feed you, big guy?"

Charlie turned his melting big brown eyes on him as if saying, "Do you really have to ask?" 

"Talking to your dog again?" Davey asked.

"Yep.  It's just me and my dog against the world.  No girls allowed," he grimaced.  "Especially my ex."

Davey glanced over at him and felt her heart tug, but she hardened it in the usual way by thinking of her own ex.  She furiously threw the roast beef on the slices of bread on which she'd added mayo and lettuce, finally slapping it together.  

"Don't take out your frustrations on those poor sandwiches.  They don't deserve your wrath."

She felt like hissing at him like a feral cat, still mad that he'd kissed her, still mad that she'd allowed it, still mad that she liked it too much.  Instead, she grabbed lemonade out of the frig and poured them all a glass.  Then took it into the living room.

"Here you go, Judith."

"Thank you dear.  This looks great, maybe a little smashed, but it will still taste good.  Why don't you get some of those potato chips to go with it."

She bumped into Chad on her way back in as he made his way out with Charger plodding after him.  She grabbed the bag and offered some to Judith before setting it down between them on the love seat.

"Letting the chips fall where they may, I see," he teased.

She nodded, but kept her guard up refusing to look at him.  He needed to go back to being her agent and she, his client.

"I see it takes two to tango as well as two to tangle," he whispered.  "I think I said I was sorry, didn't I.  But if I remember right, you were on the other side of my lips."

"Shh," she said glaring at him.

But he ignored her to say, "I thought perhaps I'd been shot by  cupid's arrow, but it must have been a dart from an adversary's blow gun."  He decided to shrug it off, but couldn't deny he felt wounded somewhere pert near his heart.  

"Women," he muttered and scowled.  He saw his grandmother looking over at him concerned, so he forced a smile before going back to his emails.

"Don't you like Hallmark movies, Chad," she said interrupting his important text to Steve about where to get the best wings.

"Their plots follow the usual formula and are too overly sweet for me."

"Hmm," she said going back to the movie.  "Did you see that, Davey?  The robber stole her laptop with all her stories on it!"

"I think I'd die. To have it stolen would be like stealing my baby."

He glanced over at her sitting stiffly beside him.  He reached over and grabbed another chip as she stared down at his hand disappearing into the bag.  Did she think he was trying to hold her hand again?  When he looked up, he thought he saw eyes a little too damp as if they might spill.  Once again he growled, "Women!" but only on the inside.  He didn't want to hurt her anymore than he had already and hated crying.  Christy had done that to him, and he didn't want to test his immunity again just yet, thank you.

"Since I think I've seen this one, I'll just go and try to squeeze a little writing in before I go to bed.  Good night."  With that, Davey disappeared, probably disappearing out of his life for good.

When she left, the void was yawning.  He felt himself falling into a black and bottomless pit.  He was familiar with it though.  It was the pit called, "Caution, Do Not Enter. Dangerous. Love Ahead."  It had taken him a long, long time to climb back out it the last time, and for the life of him, he had not  seen it coming again.  He'd never wanted to be here again.  But there he was falling, just waiting to hit the bottom broken and bruised.  He knew now for sure he'd have to pass Miss Kipling's writing off to another agent.  He was done with the snarling cat.

Chad left early the next morning after stripping the sheets off the hide-a-bed loveseat and folding it back up as quietly as he could.  It was so early that no coffee aroma beckoned.  He left a thank you note for his grandmother on the kitchen table and slipped out the back door with Charger happily following.

He stopped long enough at one of those chain coffee places before driving home.  His dog even sighed before he fell sound asleep snoring.  "Do I need to refer you for a sleep apnea test too?"
At least the coffee was passable, though it did not go deep enough to warm his heart.

His thoughts wandered as he drove thinking about what he was missing today.  Chad wouldn't have minded seeing Miss Kipling in a bathing suit, but was glad he didn't have to see his grandmother in one and all her elderly friends.  He shuttered at the thought.

Just then he hit a piece of black ice and went into a slide.  Chad looked up relieved there was no oncoming traffic, but there was still the guardrail...but that was his last thought before hitting it, rolling and blacking out.

Were those sirens?  He felt so confused, and then the pain hit him.  "Charger?"  He heard his dog whine.  Where was he?  The faithful guy belly-crawled over to him somehow managing to reach him past the air bag to lick his cheek.  Chad tried to raise his hand to pet him reassuringly, but he couldn't.  His arm must be broken.  

"Then E.M.T.'s and firemen were working to open his door and free him.  Barely able to breath he still cried, "My dog!  Please take care of my dog!" as they rolled him away to a waiting ambulance.

He remembered a fireman saying, "Don't worry, we got him.  We'll get him checked out just to be sure."

When he woke up again, he was dressed all in green like a bad dream of leprechauns.  Chad realized then that it was just a hospital gown.  He found himself with a cast on his arm and had his ribs wrapped too.  Perhaps his ankle had a cast as well because it felt heavy when he tried to move a quarter inch to get more comfortable.  He'd take his grandmother's foldout couch any day.

"Chad, dear, you're awake!  How do you feel, sweetheart?"

His grandmother perched on a plastic chair looking too worried as if she had deeper wrinkles than yesterday, though it probably was the hospital lights that made her appear so. 

"I think I'm okay.  I didn't expect to hit ice this morning, but that's how this cookie crumbled."  A snort came from the other side.

"Davey?"

She moved to where he could see her, a sight for sore eyes.  "I couldn't let your grandmother come alone, could I?  Besides, she was too upset to drive."

"Shouldn't you be in your water aerobics class?" he asked glancing up at the big round clock in his room.

"We canceled it.  The ladies wanted to have a prayer meeting instead to pray for you," his grandmother said.

He swallowed hard and said weakly, "They did?"

"One of your broken ribs punctured your lung, not to mention your broken arm and the new metal in your ankle.  You need all the prayer you can get."

"That was true before and more even now, I guess," he said wishing he had more pain medicine and could go back to sleep.  Chad felt like one big black and blue bruise.  He fumbled to find the call button, but Davey beat him to it.

"Need more meds?  They thought you might when you woke up."

A brisk nurse soon strode in asking, "How is your pain, sir?"

"It's a pain in the..." but he looked over at his grandmother's knitted brow and switched to say, "It's about a six or seven, I think."

She soon had added something to his I.V. that he was just now noticing.  "Now I have to pole dance to go to the bathroom?" he asked her.

"I can give you a bed pan if you'd rather," she smirked as Miss Kipling coughed to hide her laugh.

"Just come slowly as I help you sit up," the nurse said as he groaned.

"Davey, you'd better go on the other side, or you'll see more than you bargained for, if you haven't already," he warned.  She scurried away faster than a mouse.

"I'll wait outside till you're done," she said on her way out the door.

"Let's go grab a cup of coffee, dear, while he.."

"Wait!" he interrupted his grandmother.  "Where's Charger?  Is he okay?"

"He's at my house and seems to be a little sore, but is otherwise fine, Davey says.  One of the fireman that responded goes to my church and remembered seeing you last Sunday.  He called me to come to the hospital.  Davey dropped me off here then brought Charger home from the vets. It's been quite a morning, but we are so thankful that you are going to be okay, dearest."

She went on.  "I called your parents and they are waiting to see if you want them to come."

He shook his head.  "Tell them no.  They don't need to come.  I don't think the three of us can fit on the hide-a-bed loveseat," he said before shuffling into the bathroom with the help from this nurse and with his good hand clutching to close the back of his open gown.

"Where's mine?" he asked weakly smelling coffee.  That short jaunt to the restroom had worn him out.    

"I'll ask the nurse if it's okay for you to have some," Davey said shooting up from her chair.

When she left, his grandmother said quietly, "You know she went through something like this, but worse. It took her months of rehab to get back to where she is today.  That's how she discovered water aerobics.  But it's her story to tell, not mine.

He looked up as Davey walked back in.  Somehow knowing that little of her history made his bruised heart swell until he was in more pain, the kind that meds couldn't help.

"I reached your folks to tell them what you said," his grandmother informed him.  "They said to let them know if you decide you needed them.  They'll call tomorrow hoping to talk to you."

"I need to go call the prayer team at the senior center to update them.  You don't mind staying with him, do you, Davey?"

"I'm okay," she answered, but when Davey found his hand to hold, it felt better.  The nurse brought in a cup of steaming hot coffee so she released him.  That's the trouble with only having the use of one hand.  You couldn't hold a girl's hand and drink coffee at the same time.

After a sip, he asked, "My grandmother says you were in a bad wreck once, but didn't say much else.  Care to tell me about it so we can commiserate?"

Davey was very quiet looking down at her empty cup.  She got up to toss it away and stood with her arms clutching her ribs slightly bent over as in pain.

"I was seventeen and stupid.  He was my first and last boyfriend.  I was seeing this older guy who I allowed to take me to parties where I actually had no desire to be.  He always guilted me into going with him.  One night after he'd obviously had too much to drink, I begged him to let me drive since I never drank.  He adamantly, or should I say angrily, refused to hand over his keys.  Well, he crossed the line and hit an oncoming car.  He died, I survived and the other driver was killed.  But it took months until I was released from rehab after my many surgeries.  Who needs tattoos when you have scars like mine," she said softly with a shrug as if it was no big deal, but it was.  She came back and sat beside him.

She continued, "That's when I fell in love with water aerobics.  It was the first time anything felt good since the accident.  He tried to set his coffee down, but was unable when all he wanted was to hold her hand.  She took the cup and allowed him to grasp hers in his.

"I'm so sorry, but I'm glad that you told me.  It just shows where your strength comes from, from overcoming."

"My strength comes from the Lord," she corrected him.  "If He wasn't there with me every step of the way, I wouldn't have made it.  Then I met your grandmother.  She visited patients and brought them books to kill time while bed bound.  Then she became my number one cheerleader until I was finally released.  She was the one who suggested I teach water aerobics to the seniors."

"I'm glad she found you, as am I," he said catching her in his gaze.

"Oh, Chad, I was so scared when I heard about your accident.  I didn't tell your grandmother, but I was hardly in any condition to drive to the hospital myself." She squeezed his hand.

"Hey, do you think we could stretch Valentines an extra day and start over again?"

She blushed but stood, leaned over and lightly brushed her lips with his.  "Any more and I might start purring," she pulled back smiling.

"You're purr-fect alright.  Purr-fect for me."

So she kissed him again, a little longer until they heard a chuckle at the door.  His grandmother looked pretty smug as she  shook her finger at him saying, "I told you she was the one for you, Chad.  But I think I need to walk around a little more for my daily constitutional and leave you two to figure it out for yourselves." She left them with a little wave. 

"Constitutional?  Has she been reading Jane Austen?" Chad grinned. But indeed, a lot of things fell perfectly in place.  When the nurse came in and interrupted them, he whispered, "Happy Valentines Day, sweet girl," and kissed her hand.

"You're going to make me swoon, sir," Davey giggled.  But since his wrapped ribs kept him from laughing out loud, they sat there beaming at each other like a pair of Cheshire cats holding each other's hand.

"I think I'm no longer girl shy," he finally confessed.

"I think I'll turn in my man-hater badge," she added.  "Happy Valentines Day, Chad.  I'm just so thankful that you lived to say it another day."

"Maybe when I get healed up from all this, we could figure out how to work out a long distance relationship by putting a ring on it.  I mean, I'd kneel if I could, Davey, but I'm asking just the same."

"Are you sure it's not just your meds talking?" she gasped.

"I'm sure.  I left this morning because I finally figured out the pain I was in was because you broke my heart.  That's how I realized I loved you.  You know, I Corinthians 13 doesn't say anything about love whopping you upside the head."

"I love you too, Chad, and as to your question, yes, yes, yes!  She practically purred as he played with her hair when she laid her head on his good shoulder and felt his sigh of contentment.

He whispered, "Have I ever told you you're beautiful?"

She giggled and whispered back, "Yes, but you can keep on saying it. I won't mind."

Just then the nurse came in to check on him.  "Hmm.  I wonder what was in that last injection I put into your I.V. because if it was a love potion, I want some!"

He grinned as his grandmother walked in the door to laugh along with the other ladies.  It was then he realized he'd never been this happy before in his life, even all laid up as he was.  It was a closing of one chapter with an empty page set before them.  He was fully convinced they could write one with a happily ever after.

The End.

"Fervently love one another 
from the heart."

I Peter 1:22