January 20, 2009

• I think what makes everything all right, in the end, is the good communication.  What he doesn’t pick up from my body language he seems to be able to intuit.  I’ve caught him a few times now, reading my mind.

  What happened was that his best friend’s wife, who is also Derek’s very close friend (she cuts his hair once a week, he likes it short) who has recently moved out, called him.  Her grandfather was going to be playing slide guitar and her mother was going to be singing at a place I used to frequent.  Now this could have been the guys’ thing he was talking about or it could have been a whole, new, last-minute thing.  Given that it was the woman and that his best friend wouldn’t have wanted to go, Derek may have had a last-minute change of plans. 

  That was Saturday night.  Sunday I was leaving church when I saw him approaching with his parents.  We stopped, and his mother and I got to know each other a little.  We talked recipes. 

  Yesterday morning he called me at the usual time, and when I was leaving for recorder, he was arriving.  We rolled down our windows, two houses up the street. 

  “I bought you something.”

  “You must feel guilty,” I said with a smirk.

  “Don’t you want to see what it is?”  he reached over to the passsenger seat and pulled out a bottle of Joy.

  “Aren’t you just about out?”

  “I am.”

  We exchanged a look and the moment felt intimate enough that I blew him a kiss.  Not with my hand, I just puckered.  But I drove off a little unnerved, wondering how inappropriate that was.

  When I came home my dishes were done, and he was gone.

  • 10:44 am
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