by L A Morgan
By this time, Michael had parked the car. There were quite a few people roaming about the grounds. Laurel entered the welcome station in front of Michael.
A hostess behind the main desk asked her, “Would you and your husband like to sign our guest book?”
Laurel turned quickly to Michael. He, too, had a humorous smile on his face as he regarded her questioningly to see what she would answer.
“I’ll sign your book,” Laurel replied with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “As for that man, I’ve never seen him before.”
Michael had to control himself to keep from laughing aloud.
“Pardon me,” the hostess briefly replied, before turning away to attend to other matters.
Laurel laughed while she signed the guest book.
Michael felt compelled to ask, “Did you sign me in as your husband?”
“I beg your pardon, sir!” Laurel replied just loud enough to turn a few heads.
“Cut it out!” whispered Michael. “If you keep it up, I think that big guy standing over there may try to throw me out for insulting a lady’s honor.”
“That might be worth watching,” Laurel whispered back.
“But who will care for my bruised and bleeding body?”
“Play your cards right and you never can tell,” Laurel laughed as she gave him a little poke in the ribs.
After gathering all the paraphernalia they wanted, the couple left the building. They were approximately forty-five minutes away from their motel, so they decided to turn back. Instead of returning along Highway 17, they took the turn-off to drive along the oceanfront road. It was a pleasant ride, but Laurel did not find any sights that she deemed worthy of a picture.
Back at the motel, they went to their respective rooms to change for a swim in the pool. As yet, Laurel still had not gotten a picture of Michael. She brought her camera to the pool, along with her towel and sunscreen.
“Are you ready to have your picture taken now?” she asked teasingly as Michael joined her.
“Oh-oh!” he replied in mock embarrassment. “I should have let you get that shot earlier.”
“You can’t back out again,” Laurel warned him.
Another couple that was sitting by the pool overheard their conversation.
The woman congenially said, “I’ll take a picture of both of you together if you like.”
Laurel looked at Michael and saw that he did not appear to mind. Handing the woman her camera, she joined him to pose beside the pool. In a casual gesture, Michael put his arm around her shoulders. Laurel felt excited tingles go through her at this unexpected contact.
“Smile!” called out the woman.
When this was done, Laurel commented, “Well, that’s one I’ll be happy to show the gals at home.”
For some indefinable reason, she suddenly felt nervous.
“I’d like you to email it me if you wouldn’t mind,” Michael said in a questioning tone of voice.
“Sure. You’ll have to give me your email address.”
The man smiled at her, but said nothing more. They swam together and then took a short walk along the shoreline, allowing their bodies to dry in the sunlight and mild breeze.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you something!” Laurel exclaimed as they strolled along the beach. “The Cat robbed another house last night. Did you hear about it?”
“No. How did you find out?”
“It was on the TV afternoon news. The reward has been upped again.”
“I’m not surprised to hear that. This Cat person is becoming quite a menace to anyone around here who owns jewelry.”
“Do you think they’ll catch him?”‘
“If he stays in the area, they probably will. He’s bound to make a mistake one of these days.”
“I wish we’d been able to get a closer look at him!”
“Don’t let it bother you, Laurel. Would you like to have dinner with me this evening?”
“I would like that,” she agreed with a bright smile.
“Good. I think we exhausted seafood last night.”
“To say the least!”
“How does steak sound to you?”
“Delicious!”
“And maybe a nice baked potato with sour cream?”
“Stop talking about food! You’re making me hungry!” Laurel jokingly admonished.
“Well, the sooner you get dressed, the sooner we can go.”
“You’ve got a deal! “
They quickened their steps back to the motel and parted at Laurel’s door. Less than an hour later, she was ready to go. Michael had not yet arrived to call for her, so she went to his room and knocked. He opened the door with a newspaper in his hand.
“I’ve been reading about The Cat’s latest exploits,” he said in explanation.
Stepping inside, Laurel asked, “Are there any new developments?”
“Nothing much. The FBI has been called in. I wonder if this character is wanted anywhere else in the country. As far as I know, they haven’t been able to verify that yet.”
Laurel glanced around Michael’s apartment and was not surprised to note that everything seemed to be in perfect order. It was so neat that she would have believed that the motel’s cleaning service had just finished up their regular routine if she had not know otherwise. Her rooms would make a startling contrast by comparison. It was apparent that the motel’s room service slackened in the off season
Michael noticed her interest and said, “I hope that everything meets with your approval.”
“You put my housekeeping to shame,” Laurel replied with a disparaging frown. “I wish I was as neat as you are. “
“All it takes is a little time and effort,” Michael assured her with a kind smile.
“If I could only get into the habit of putting things away as soon as I’m done with them, the job would be so much easier. For some reason, I always seem to be in a hurry or else I rationalize it that I can always do this or that tomorrow. Whatever the case may be, my place is a perennial mess. I guess I wouldn’t make a very good wife.”
“There’s a lot more to being a wife than being a good housekeeper. I would rate companionability, trustfulness, and a sense of humor higher than neatness. I’d take having a good friend over having an orderly adversary any day.”
“Not everyone is as rational or easy to please as you are, Michael.”
“I know. You might want to be careful to fall in love with a man who can afford to hire a cleaning staff,” the man replied in a light tone.
“Many career women can afford that luxury for themselves,” Laurel felt obliged to comment.
“Do you fall into that category?”
“Unfortunately, no. Of course, there’s always the option of a man and woman combining their salaries to hire someone.”
“Of course.”
“How would you feel about having a working wife?”
Michael regarded her intently and finally replied, “I’m not in the market to find a wife.”
Laurel felt embarrassed by his reply. It suddenly occurred to her that Michael might have thought she was checking out her chances with him.
In order to correct this faux pas, she said, “‘I was speaking only in general terms. What I meant to say was do you approve of working wives? “
“I’ve never really thought about it. I suppose I wouldn’t care.”
“You sound like a borderline male chauvinist.”
“I see your point, but as I said, I haven’t had any reason to think about it. What about you, Laurel? Do you plan to work after you marry?”
“I don’t know,” she thoughtfully replied. “If I fell in love with a man that could not afford to support both of us, I’d be happy to contribute to the household income.”
“It wouldn’t bother you if you had to maintain that support permanently?”
“I don’t know. My parents are basically old-fashioned about these things, and they have a very happy marriage. At heart, I guess I’m old
-fashioned, too. I don’t mind working, but my job isn’t that stimulating. It’s not really what you’d call a career.”
“So would you give it up if your husband made enough to support you?”
“I might, but not right away. I like talking with the gals in my office. On the other hand, I really like to cook. If I stayed home all the time, I’d love to do those fabulous gourmet recipes they show you on the food networks.
“Oh! I just thought of something else! If I got pregnant, I’d want to stay home to take care of my baby. If I had a child, I’d want it to know that I’m its mother instead of someone I pay to do the job for me.
“You know, Michael, this is all very confusing. I haven’t given it a lot of thought either. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see what happens. How did we ever get into such a complicated discussion while standing in the doorway? Are you ready to go out and eat?”
“You bet!”
As Michael ushered her out to his car, Laurel wondered if he was as anxious to eat as he seemed or if he really wanted to put an end to their rather personal conversation. Had it evoked painful memories from his past? This man had a depth of intensity she had yet to fathom.
The steakhouse that Michael chose had excellent food. They both preferred to have their sirloins medium rare and agreed that the crisp shells of baked potatoes were preferable to those wrapped in aluminum foil. The salad bar presented a wide and delicious assortment of side dishes.
When they were finished eating, Laurel patted her lips with her napkin and said, “You made a good choice, Michael. That was yummy.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. You made a comment before that I meant to ask you about. You said you’d like to prepare gourmet meals. Are you a gourmet cook?”
Laurel laughed lightly.
“I didn’t mean to sound as if I was bragging, but no, I’m not a gourmet, and yes, I do like to experiment with my cuisine. I know you may find it hard to believe that a woman who is a rotten housekeeper could be a good cook, but I give it a good try.”
“Do you have any specialties?” Michael asked curiously.
“As a matter of fact, I make an intriguing Chicken Wellington, and my friends all tell me that my Beef Stroganoff is very good, but those aren’t really gourmet dishes. I’d offer to show you what I can do, but the dishes I’d want to make require too many ingredients and I don’t know where to get them here.”
“Well, maybe . . .” Michael started to say, then cut himself short.
Laurel looked at him attentively as he sought the right words.
She was disappointed when he replied, “I’m sure you’re a very good cook, Laurel.”
“Thank you,” she replied as she considered the sentiments he had omitted from conveying.
It was not difficult to figure out what he had been about to say, especially since he had interrupted himself. He might have meant to suggest that he would buy the necessary ingredients for her so she could cook for him, but Laurel did not believe he intended to say that at all. She felt he was going to say, “Well, maybe you can cook for me when we get back home,” or something along that order. If that were the case, Michael obviously did not want to give her the impression that he would be contacting after his vacation was over. For some reason, this made her feel sad.
Their relationship had been defined right from the start . . . there would be no commitments, no strings attached. Now that Laurel had gotten to know Michael better, she had come to understand that he was definitely a person she would like to know, a good companion, someone who made her laugh, an interesting man. He had his secrets, but she believed that their disclosure would in no way hinder the friendship that had been forming between them.
Not long after that, they left the restaurant. It was a warm, breezy evening. A few high-drifting clouds occasionally scudded across the face of the waxing moon.
“I bought some wine this morning,” Michael commented as he pulled out onto the highway.
“White or red?”
The man gave Laurel a brief glance and replied, “I suppose I should have bought red wine to accompany the digestion of the red meat we ate, but I foolishly chose white.”
Laurel smiled and then asked, “Will you be drinking alone?”
“Only if a certain young lady refuses to join me on my balcony.”
“What do you think she will do?”
“I’m not sure. She might prefer it if I passed her a glass of wine on her adjoining balcony.”
“That wouldn’t be very romantic,” Laurel commented with a twinkle of pleasure in her eyes.
“What would you suggest?”
“I don’t know. You might try serenading beneath the lady’s balcony as they did in the days of yore.”
“That would never do for this young lady,” Michael assured her. “She’s a very modern woman, and besides, she prefers to do the serenading herself.”
“In that case, you’d better just hit her over the head with the wine bottle and hope for the best!” Laurel concluded with a laugh.
Michael tried to answer, but the picture she had presented appeared so ludicrous that he was forced to break out into hearty laughter.
“You’re a boundless wonder, Laurel!” he finally managed to say.
“Are you telling me that I’m infinitely wonderful or are you suggesting that you’re going to have to wonder about me for the duration of our acquaintance?”
Once again, Michael broke into peals of laughter. When he looked at Laurel, his smile held such radiating warmth that she felt her heart melt within her. Here was a special person, Laurel silently acknowledged.
After a minute, Michael said, “I’m so glad I met you. You couldn’t know this, but, before I left home, I had no great hopes of actually enjoying this vacation. You’ve been such a positive influence on me.”
Laurel did not know how to respond to this. She did not want to say anything that would imply that she was hoping for more than the man was willing to give. It was difficult to be herself, and yet, restrict the words that she felt impelled to say.
She was relieved from this burden by their approach to their motel’s parking lot. Michael did not seem to notice her silence as he pulled into a convenient spot. Within that continuing aura of warmth, they walked side-by-side to his apartment.
He stopped in the kitchen to take the wine from the refrigerator and then he got some glasses and a corkscrew. Laurel followed him as he led the way to his balcony. They sat down and Michael opened the bottle.
As he poured the wine, he commented, “How about that? I didn’t even have to serenade the lady to get her to join me!”
“I guess some ladies are beyond that,” Laurel replied in the spirit of the moment.
“Well, I’m glad this particular lady is,” Michael assured her. “If she had demanded to hear my singing, she might never have joined me at all.”
“I doubt that very much, Michael. I believe you have sufficient charms to intrigue any young lady.”
“I appreciate your compliment, but I’m not sure it’s the truth.”
“You underestimate yourself.”
“Perhaps. In your opinion, anyway. I’m not very experienced when it comes to dating.”
“For some reason, I feel certain that you’ve known your share of women.”
“Not really. I married my childhood sweetheart. Maybe you’ve noticed the wedding ring on my finger?”
“I did,” Laurel responded carefully. “I wanted to ask you about it, but I restrained myself. I was hoping you would tell me.”
“Thank you for your restraint. Let me assure you right now that I’m once again single. I would never have approached you if I was committed to someone else.”
“I didn’t think you would. When you told me that you lived alone, I took that to mean that you’re no longer married. I know that many women don’t care, but I don’t go out with married men.”
“I’m glad to hear th
at.”
“Basically, we’re both kind of old-fashioned. If we weren’t, I don’t think we’d still be seeing each other.”
“You could be right.”
“Are you beginning to feel uncomfortable with this conversation, Michael?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I’ve noticed that you don’t like to prolong intimate discussions. Am I wrong?”
“No, but I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable either. It’s just that there are some things I don’t care to discuss. I hope you can understand that.”
“I do.”
There was a short pause which was broken by Michael.
“Maybe we should change the subject now,” he suggested.
“If you like.”
“Okay. So, how do you stand on world politics?”
“Not very well,” Laurel replied with a laugh. “Let’s choose a more optimistic subject.”
“What would you suggest?”
“How about poetry?”
“You’ve caught me at a loss there. Do you read a lot of poetry?”
“No. Just a little,” Laurel admitted.
“Do you like any sports?”
“I used to watch football.”
“Football? You’ve got to be kidding!”
“That was before my father got disgusted with it. He thought the games were fixed.”
“I hate to admit this, Laurel, but I don’t seem to have the necessary amount of testosterone to enjoy football.”
“That’s okay. I have enough for both of us.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Michael dryly replied.
As soon as Laurel started to laugh, he joined her.
“What sports do you watch?” she finally asked.
“To tell you the truth, the only time I watch sports is during the Olympics.”
“I’m with you there. If you don’t watch any particular sport, why did you ask me if I did?”
“Curiosity, maybe. I’d like to get to know you better. ‘
Laurel took a sip of her wine. She felt at a loss as to how she should proceed with this conversation. Usually, she had no difficulty in talking with people, but with Michael, it was different. He could not be pushed into discussing his past or his personal life. Until he opened up with her, she would continue to feel somewhat awkward and reserved with him.
