Back Together?

Myrtle was getting everything ready to just throw the Fettuccine Alfredo together once Fred got there. The table was set, the salads were made, the white wine was breathing. It got dark so early at this time of year, she could see the shadow and headlights of a car stop on her side of road across from her cottage. The front light was on, nevertheless she heard an “oof” and a thud interrupt the footsteps coming around the cottage. It was almost a minute before she heard the tap at the back door. Myrtle opened the porch door and there stood Fred, with a dirt smudge on one cheek and some dried leaves in his hair, the rest of him a little askew.

“Oh, are you all right, Fred?” she asked in alarm.

“Yeah... yeah, I guess. That root really needs to be taken out,” he observed. “I’d forgotten about it,” he sighed, almost tripping through the door. He stood inside the door, just looking at Myrtle. Slowly a smile crept across his face. “I’ve missed you, Myrtle,” he said.

Myrtle returned the smile. “I missed you too, Fred,” she said. “C’mon in,” she motioned, and turned toward the kitchen. “Brush yourself off, sit and we’ll talk while I make supper,” she said.

Fred wanted to grab Myrtle and hold her close, but he sat down at the table as he was told. All in good time, he thought.

“So, what is your news at work, Fred?” asked Myrtle, as she put some noodles into a large saucepan of boiling water and began cutting up some ham.

As Fred sipped a little wine, he told Myrtle all about how Helen put him in the conference room with a bunch of statistics and he wound up with a whole new job and a whole new long, narrow office with a “picture window” on the wall that he found at the thrift shop.

They were both chuckling along merrily when Myrtle set their supper on the table. She poured herself some wine and sat down across from Fred.

“So you’re all healed up then?” asked Myrtle as she twirled her noodles on her fork.

“Almost,” said Fred. “I mean, I’m fine, Myrtle. I really am.” He looked up as he chewed. Myrtle made a motion at her mouth, and Fred, catching on, used his napkin to wipe cream sauce off his mouth. He looked at her and smiled a funny little smile. “This is really good,” he said happily. Then he cleared his throat. “Um, those blood tests,” he continued awkwardly, “I was worried..... I mean, I thought maybe when she did that, she might have given me something.” Myrtle stopped eating and looked at him. “Anyway, all the tests came back negative. Just so you know,” he sort of muttered.

“I’m so glad you told the truth, Fred,” said Myrtle.

“So am I,” he said instantly, wondering almost immediately if that was the right thing to say. “I mean, I’m not very good at lying anyway.”

“I noticed,” smiled Myrtle. “Although, you pretend to be sick rather well.”

Fred blushed and chuckled self-consciously. “I just didn’t know what to do, Myrtle. I kinda wished I was dead for awhile there.”

This statement had Myrtle putting her utensils down and looking at him intently. “Oh Fred, that’s awful,” she sympathized. “You should know, I guess, that I told Cynthia to never, ever go near you again.”

Fred looked at her in something like amazement. “You really did that?”

Myrtle nodded and chuckled, “I told her you’re my boyfriend and to stay away.”

Fred smiled in surprise. “You did? Well, thank you,” he said, smiling even more.

The two were silent a few moments, then began talking about the freakishly mild weather as they finished their meal, and then switched to flowers when Fred noticed one carnation blossom sitting in a brandy snifter on the table between them. Myrtle put the kettle on for tea and the two finished their wine at the table.

When the tea was ready, Myrtle poured them each a mug and they moved to the living room where Myrtle put a small log in the wood stove against the descending chill. As they sipped and chatted, Fred moved closer to Myrtle. After a few minutes, he put his arm around her. She smiled up at him and moved a little closer too.

“I’m sorry, Myrtle,” he said again, apropos of nothing in particular.

“I know you are, Fred,” she said, snuggling even closer.