They hadn’t bothered with dinner. They had left the theater, walking awkwardly to the car, Kit aware only of this incredible connection between them, and as they reached the car he grabbed her and started to kiss her, and—she swore she didn’t think this could ever actually happen—her knees went weak.
They sat in the car for an hour, making out. He drove her home and they sat in the car for another hour, making out. Nothing more, not yet. She wasn’t ready for more, and he didn’t push.
But oh joy, oh the joy of feeling these feelings she thought were dead forever. Oh the joy of finally meeting a man who may not be Mr. Right, but is certainly good for Mr. Right Now.
And more, the joy of feeling heard. Seen. She hasn’t realized, until now, how low her self-esteem has been, first during her marriage, when she tried to turn herself into someone else, and then when recovering from the knock of her divorce.
Because however much she was a part of the decision to divorce, she still felt bruised and battered, never thought that she would have the energy or the will to go through all this again with someone new.
It has been so much easier, since she separated from Adam, to be cocooned with her family, to nest in her cozy home and allow life to carry on for others, outside the safety of her house.
Perhaps tonight will be the night, for the house is empty, and Steve said he wanted to see her this weekend. Perhaps she should get ready to finally do the unthinkable, to sleep with someone other than Adam, the only man she has slept with for almost twenty years.
She wants to, and doesn’t want to. The truth—as hard as it is for her to admit it—is that the only man with whom she still feels truly safe is Adam.
But Adam is her past. And Steve, if not her future, is certainly her here and now.
With a yawn and a stretch, she finally manages to drag herself out of bed, and opens the blinds in the bedroom to let the sharp autumn sunlight slice through.
A movement outside catches her eye and she moves closer to the blinds. There is a woman standing on the sidewalk across the street who seems to be looking at the house. She turns briskly and walks off, but Kit is slightly disconcerted.
Not that it is unusual to see people walking in this neighborhood, but this woman has no dog, no friends out on a power walk. In fact, she isn’t even wearing walking shoes. And although there wasn’t much time to see her face, there was something familiar about her.
By the time Kit has shrugged on her robe and gone downstairs to put coffee on she has forgotten about the woman outside. She lights a fire, collects the New York Times from the driveway and sticks a bagel in the toaster.
“Hello? ” The back door opens and Edie walks in. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about our date today,” she says, frowning, as she sees Kit in her bathrobe. “You’re taking me to the pumpkin patch, remember? ”
“I didn’t forget!” Kit smiles. “Of course we’re going. I just had a slow start this morning. If you let me finish this bagel I can be ready to go in ten minutes. Want some coffee? ”
“Sure.” Edie sits down at the table and squints at Kit. “What’s going on with you? ”
“What do you mean? ”
“I mean, you can’t stop smiling. You look like a girl who’s fallen in love.”
“Oh Edie!” This time the grin stretches across Kit’s face. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It may be ridiculous but you certainly look like the cat that got the cream. So go on, then, tell me if I’m right. Are you falling in love? ”
“Well . . . I’m definitely falling in like.”
Edie peers at her. “And he likes you? ”
“I don’t know.” Kit shrugs. “But I hope so. I mean, I think so.”
“So what do you like about him? Is it the fact that he’s around six foot, six foot one, dark hair, tanned skin, very handsome in his brown suede jacket? ”
Kit looks at her in shock.
“How do you know? ”
“Because he just walked up your garden path and—”
The doorbell interrupts her.
“—I was going to say he’s about to ring your doorbell.”
“Oh shit!” Kit says. “What’s he doing here?” She gestures down at herself in horror.