to be a brainiac to figure out Mason’s motive. He was campaigning for our relationship to be something more than pals, and having Barry staying at my house would definitely be an obstacle.
At first it had worked out okay. My son Samuel had moved back home awhile ago and I gave Barry and Jeffrey rooms down the hall from his. Mine was on the complete other side of the house. I knew there was a constant flow of people coming and going to help Barry out, but I was barely affected by it. We were just ships occasionally passing in the kitchen.
Whoever had designed this house must have known that someday, somebody would need to get away from it all without leaving home. Once I shut the door to the den behind me and entered the short hall, I could forget about everyone and whatever else was going on in the rest of the house. The master suite was really a suite and far away from the other bedrooms. I had a huge bedroom with a fireplace, a generous-size bathroom and a hall area that was like a sitting room. I’d moved some of my crochet stuff and brought in a comfortable chair to work in. I had all the electronic essentials—TV, video player and computer. I’d brought in a stack of romantic comedies and had a pile of books I wanted to read. It had become a habit for me to come home and shut myself in my little haven.
Now that Barry had progressed from a cast with crutches, to just crutches, to a cane and now was down to a small limp, I was even more grateful for my refuge. He was up and around more and I never knew quite what to do when we ran into each other. I was looking forward to his going home. I’d have the run of my house back and we could permanently shut the door on our relationship.
The air filled with the scent of peppermint as I swished the tea bag around in the cup a last time before discarding it. I was all set to grab the cup and my things and head across the house, when Barry started to talk.
“I just want to thank you again for letting me stay here. I know it’s been great for Jeffrey.” This wasn’t the first time Barry had thanked me. I nodded and said I was glad he seemed to be healed. I waited, expecting him to say something about moving home.
“I don’t know if you know, but I went back to work,” he said. He was watching me from across the room. I was all befuddled about where to look. It was normal to face someone speaking to you and I glanced up from the mug of tea. He must have changed out of his work clothes into the faded jeans and soft blue tee shirt he was now wearing. He’d looked pretty bad when he first got to my house, and I was glad his face had lost the gaunt look. I might have had a little residual anger about the way things had worked out for us, but I still cared about him. I was having a hard time making sense of it but I thought the best way to deal with it, was by keeping a distance.
“You must be glad to get back to it.” I picked up the mug but still he didn’t move.
“I’m not exactly back to my regular job.” He held up a blue binder that had been tucked under his arm. “I’m easing back in by working cold cases.” He glanced toward the steaming cup of tea. “That smells good. What kind of tea is it?” I wanted to take the tea and go, but it felt wrong to just rush out, and the way he was looking at my mug, it was obvious he wanted some, too. I certainly wouldn’t begrudge him a tea bag. I pointed to the cabinet and told him to help himself.
Without the slightest hesitation, he grabbed a mug and found one of the tea bags. As I made another move to go, he said, “Maybe we could have our tea together. To toast my going back to work.”
I was going to beg off, but it was just a cup of tea after all, so I agreed. Barry didn’t wait for me to have second thoughts and led the way to the living room.