Most stubborn kitty hangnail in the free world.
Simon finished and closed up his laptop, stretching his arms over his head and exposing his happy trail. I may have drawn outside the lines a
bit. He laid his head against the back of the couch, eyes closed. Within a few moments, the tiniest of snores began, and I grinned silently. I
continued my sketching.
Ten minutes later I felt his hand reach out across the pil ows, and grasp my hand.
I only needed one hand for sketching after al .
“Holy shit, Caroline, these prawns are sick!” Mimi moaned in a way that made Ryan readjust the way he sat.
It was Saturday night, and we were al gathered around my dining room table, ful of Spanish food and Spanish wine. I’d had a blast trying to
recreate al the wonderful food Simon and I had eaten. Not as good certainly, but pretty close. And of course we were without the coastal ambiance,
but instead had the coziness only an autumn evening in foggy San Francisco can provide. The city lights twinkled through the windows, a fire
crackled in the fireplace, courtesy of Benjamin, and laughter fil ed the apartment.
I sat in my chair, tucked in to Simon’s side as we laughed with our friends. I’d been a little nervous that we’d be subjected to some kind of
hazing, since our inevitable getting-together had been the topic of conversation for so long. But it was good, everyone settled into the evening with
only minimal teasing. Simon and I had stuck pretty close together most of the evening, but I could already tel we would morph into one of those
couples that didn’t need that.
I never wanted to be that couple, the one that was entirely codependent and in constant need of reassurance. I loved Simon, that much was
clear. One of us traveled, for goodness sake, so we needed to rol with it. And I thought we would. I felt him next to me, and I moved just a little
closer. He slipped an arm around my waist, his hand patting my arm, squeezing and just making me more aware of him. I was aware. His fingertips
traced little circles around my elbow, and I sighed as he pressed a quick kiss to my forehead.
I would never need the Honey and the Baby. I just needed him and his little circles. Just needed to feel him at my side, whenever he was here.
Jil ian caught my eye from across the table and winked.
“What was that for?” I asked, sipping my second glass of brandy. Simon was going to have no trouble getting me into bed later that night, not
that he ever did.
“Things worked out wel , didn’t they?” she asked, looking back and forth between Simon and me.
“Couldn’t have worked out better. Subletting your apartment to me was the best decision you ever made.” I smiled, leaning into Simon as he
rubbed my shoulder.
“Jil ian giving me your number so I could text you from Ireland, now that’s the best decision she ever made,” he added, winking at Benjamin
from across the table.
“Oh, I don’t know. Pretending I didn’t know your mysterious neighbor was a damn good decision too,” she said, a mischievous grin lighting up
her face as Simon coughed into his brandy.
“Wait, what? You knew al along I was the one living next door?” he asked, sputtering as I handed him a napkin. “But you’ve never even been to
my place!”
“She hasn’t, but I have,” Benjamin spoke up, clinking his glass with his fiancée’s.
Simon and I sat pie eyed as we watched them laugh and congratulate themselves.
Wel played…
“Okay, that’s the last of it. No more dishes,” Simon announced, closing the dishwasher. After everyone final y left, we decided to clean up the
rest of the mess instead of leaving it for the morning after.
“Thank goodness. I’m beat.”
“And I have dishpan hands.” He winked, showing me how red they were.
“That’s the mark of a good housewife.” I just barely sidestepped his grabby hands.
“Just cal me Madge and bring that fantastic ass back over here,” he fired back, snapping a dishtowel in my direction.
“This ass? This ass right here?” I asked, propping myself against the island just so, leaning forward on my elbows.
“You want to play now, is that it? Thought you were beat,” he murmured, catching my bottom in his dishpan hands and giving me a light smack.
“Maybe I’m catching my second wind.” I giggled as he promptly swept me up over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and headed for the
bedroom. Upside down, I beat my fists against his bottom and kicked, though not so much as to actual y get away. His feet stopped at the bedroom
door.
“Forget something today?” he asked, turning so I could see inside: stripped bed, no sheets.