A LOUD SHRIEK wakes me up while I’m enjoying a sweet dream.
I groan pathetically and try to destroy the source of the noise, but the phone keeps on ringing. Slapping my hand over the dresser until I make contact with the device, I plop it against my ear.
“Hello?” I mumble.
“It’s the weekend.” Jerrison’s voice is far too bright. It’s always grated me how chirpy he is in the mornings.
“I’m aware of that,” I grumble. “It’s why I’m sleeping in.” A sleep you rudely interrupted, buddy.
“Let’s go out tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven.” It’s not a question. Rude jerk. But I’m way too exhausted to call Jerrison out even though a scolding is in order.
“Seven?” I push up. Rise from a cloud of fluffy pillows and a string of drool. The cell phone slips down my ear and I drag it back into place. “What?”
“I’m asking you out on a date, Harriet.”
I’d forgotten how bossy Jerrison was when he was dating me.
“What if I say no?” I shoot back, stretching my arms over my head as the sleep clears from my eyes.
“You won’t.”
I roll over in bed. Every bone in my body aches from running around yesterday. Last night, we had our second celebrity event. Crowds pressed in and filled the room to capacity. We sold out of everything in the bakery.
“I’ve got tickets to your favorite musical,” Jerrison says.
My lips curve up in a sleepy smile. I stretch like a cat and tug the pillow closer to me. “You don’t play fair.”
“Will you still say no?”
“You just made that impossible.” I slide my hands down the pillow, enjoying the silk that ripples against my fingertips.
Jerrison brought the pillowcases over last week. ‘I saw you didn’t pack any and I didn’t want you sleeping on cotton. That’s not good for your hair.’
I was blown away, not only by the fact that he’d noticed my hair care regime but that he was interested enough to bring the pillowcases and a new bonnet to me.
“That was dangerous though. Asking me out last minute.” I tweak the end of the pillowcase with my nails.
“You’ve got…” he pauses and I can picture him checking his watch like the stickler for time that he is, “twelve hours.”
“Not enough.”
“If you can’t decide on what to wear, throw on jeans.”
“You don’t wear casual clothes to a musical,” I correct him.
“You could wear a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the room.”
I turn my cheek and let the sunshine kiss my skin. Let the warmth of my husband’s praise sink deep into my heart.
It doesn’t feel real.
I’m still trying to get used to it. His attention. His effort to please me.
Transparency broke him free and made him explode. Turned his dogged pursuit into a flaming level of focus. It’s a little overwhelming. Or maybe it’s just hard to believe it’ll last.
This isn’t the first time Jerrison has chased me, but the wooing stopped when we got married. I’m afraid we’re in a repeat of that. Right now, we’re at the top of the cycle when he’s totally interested. Can this continue when times get hard?
“I’d really love to take you out tonight, Harriet,” Jerrison whispers.
If I close my eyes, I can imagine that he’s in bed next to me, all long legs and broad shoulders. Messy hair falling against his forehead. Forearms bulging as he pushes himself up.
“I’d like that too.” I try to keep the breathlessness from my voice and fail.
His breath hitches in return. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing I can share.” There’s a beat of silence.
His breath in my ear is effortless seduction. “I’m going to hang up before I say something inappropriate.”
Good. That’s good.
Because my mind has been going to very inappropriate places lately even without his help. It’s hard to stop myself. I do try to be cautious, but the man makes my heart flutter. There’s only so much a woman can take when her husband showers her with attention.
Back when we were fighting, back when I knew he was cheating, we still made passionate love. I can’t stop imagining what it would be like in this new phase of our relationship.
When you’re dating, you shouldn’t be sleeping together. It’ll make you blind when you should be intensely observing him. Doc’s words travel through my head. A merry-go-round that won’t let me get on and ride.
Fun sucker.
I’m too excited to go back to sleep, so I decide to do the house chores I’ve been putting off. By the time I’m finished, it’s three o’clock. Four hours is not enough time for me to get ready and, when Jerrison knocks on the door, I’m still curling my hair.
“You can come in,” I tell him, leaving the door open and hurrying into my bedroom. I expect him to follow me there, but Jerrison remains in the living room until I’ve finished getting dressed.
I poke my head into the hallway while spritzing perfume on my neck. “Why are you staying out here?”
“Doc told me your bedroom is off-limits.” He looks up like a puppy kicked into the rain. “I’m not allowed.”
I throw my head back and laugh. Seems like Doc has my husband on the same ‘when dating there should be no touching’ regime.
“I’ll be quick,” I say.
“Don’t lie to me, Harriet.” His voice carries a hint of amusement. I bend over with laughter and scurry to my room.
My fingers grapple for lotion bottles. Makeup brushes. Powder and lipstick. I check my reflection one last time and nod. I’ve been working myself into the ground lately but, even with the stress from work, the face
in the mirror looks younger. Happier. Her smile is brighter than it’s ever been. Her eyes shine in a way that I haven’t seen in years.
It’s the Harriet I met when I left my husband.
The Harriet I became when I started working with Doc.
Beautiful.
I return to the living room where Jerrison is sitting. His head bounces up.
Blue eyes make a slow sweep.
The quiet lingers. Expands. Makes me blush. I start to squirm. “Jerrison, we’ll be late.”
“You look…” He rises. Shakes his head. I don’t think he heard me. I don’t think he’s capable of hearing anything right now. “Harriet, honey… wow.”
“Wow is good.” I slip my purse over my shoulder.
He takes my hand like it’s a priceless treasure. Cradles it with a gentleness that makes me tear up.
We head into the night. It’s magical. The kind of night where nothing feels impossible. He takes me to eat and doesn’t let go of my hand. We exchange laughter over filet mignon and groan over the best cheesecake in history. We lose track of time and have to run to the theatre.
My heels are a detriment to speed. Jerrison abandons all decorum, yanks me into his arms and dashes down the street.
I laugh when he sets me down and hands my heels back to me. Laugh even harder when the ticket attendant looks at us like we’ve both gone mad.
He got us box seats. The best in the house. I don’t ask how expensive it is. I only hear Doc’s voice in my head telling me my husband’s input, interest and effort will reveal how much I mean to him.
The play begins. Tears gather in my eyes when the tragedy unfolds. Jerrison squeezes my hand and produces a handkerchief.
I take it. Smile.
He brought it for me. He’s not the type who walks around with handkerchiefs in his blazer.
We leave the theatre, chatting about how amazing the performance was. I have a photo with the star performers on my phone. Jerrison arranged for backstage passes because he’s an overachiever like that.
On a high, we stop at the theatre’s gift shop. My eyes fall on pretty things and, somehow, those things end up at the checkout counter.
I gasp. “Jerrison, don’t. It’s too much.”
“It’s just the start.” His gaze does not waver from mine. “This is just the start of all I want to do for you, Harriet.”
It’s a dream. It can’t be real. I’m still in my bed and, when I wake up, I’ll find that my husband is gone. Gone to someone else, another woman who would experience these beautiful things. But the dream keeps going.
“Do you want to walk?” he asks me at an hour when the question should have been ‘do you want to go home?’
“Yes,” I say. Leaving him at the end of a date hurts and I’m not ready for the pain.
He drives us to a nearby park. We stroll in the moonlight. A gentle breeze caresses my skin. It’s not that cold, but I still cuddle against him. He wraps his arms around me. Offers a smile that belongs to me. Tucks my hair behind my ear.
I kiss his cheek when he takes me back home. Smile when he sends me a text goodnight. Fall into bed like a high school girl with her first crush.
Incredible.
Amazing.
My heart thunders so hard I can barely stand it. The Jerrison I married is coming back.