Valentine Story
Matthew Ryan Fischer
He was still there. Rachel could
still feel him beside her. The sunlight
was coming in through the shades and he was still there. She must have fallen asleep and not realized
it. Otherwise she would have made him
leave. She had rules about these sorts
of things. She never fell asleep. Or almost never. Obviously she broke that rule too. Blatant violation on at least two counts.
There were clothes thrown all over the bedroom floor. They had passion. If nothing else, they had had passion. A broken lamp and a wine stained carpet could
attest to that. Candles were burnt
down. Strawberries and chocolates left
untouched. The half bottle of wine would
be a loss. The unopened champagne might
be salvageable.
She felt good – one of the fringe benefits of not enough alcohol and way
more than enough delight. Still, an
evening, be it a long and enjoyable one, was no reason to go about breaking
rules. Suddenly she couldn’t remember
the number of condoms used or the number that should have been. I better not be pregnant because of this, she
thought. She chastised herself. It was a failure on so many counts. Just plain and utter failure. What’s the point of rules if you don’t use
them?
In the bathroom she was confronted with a travel toothbrush. This set
Rachel off.
Who does that, she thought. There
was no way this guy could plan ahead this much.
The audacity. And he left it out,
right there on the middle of the counter.
On display for the entire world to see.
Well, for me to see, she reminded herself. But still, it’s like he’s putting on a show
and testing me. Seeing how I’ll
react. No. No way.
He’s just trying to get under your skin.
She collected herself and headed back into the bedroom. He was gone.
Good, she thought. Maybe I won’t
have to kick him out after all.
No such luck. He was in the
kitchen; cooking.
He turned and looked at her. “Morning.” With a smile no less.
“Morning,” she returned.
“I made coffee. Pancakes will be
done in a minute. I saw some fruit, but
hadn’t cut any up yet. If you hold on a
second, I’ll—“
“So you slept here last night? And now you get up and just start making
breakfast.”
“I don’t know. I guess I thought
it was appropriate. I thought you’d
appreciate—“
Rachel walked up to the counter and set his wallet and keys down.
“I found these in the top drawer of my dresser.”
“I thought you’d want me to have some space of my own.”
“Oh, you just thought that did you?
What gave you that idea? That that would be okay?”
He was silent for a second, then wryly smiled and nodded towards the bedroom.
“Yuck. No. Totally gross. Last night was fun but—“
“Last night was ‘fun’? No. Last night was amazing.”
“Last night was okay. But I don’t
remember signing up for anything or telling you that you could start leaving
your things all over the place or going through my stuff or any of that.”
“You broke your rules for me.”
“What? You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
He looked off past her, suddenly distracted.
“Michelle...”
“Michelle? What—“
Rachel turned to see what he was looking at. There was her teenage daughter, standing in
the door to the kitchen.
“Michelle? What are you doing
here?”
“You guys should really wear pants.
It’s really kinda gross to see you two in your underwear.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at Connie’s?”
“Yeah, last night. I woke up
early. You two look like you didn’t
sleep at all.”
“Well—“
“No. Gross. Don’t talk about it.”
Michelle walked past Rachel and over to Chris. She took a piece of bacon off his plate and
kissed him on the cheek. “Morning,
Daddy.”
Michelle walked off down the hall towards her room.
Rachel turned to Chris.
“So...”
“Yeah. I guess that ends that. Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”
She leaned in and kissed him. “Happy
Valentine’s Day.”
Chris started towards their bedroom.
“I’m going to go put some pants on.”
“We should both put some pants on.”
“Or… not.”
He had a good smile. He always had
a good smile. It was really endearing.
“Or not.”
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