Chapter 13

“I should have been with you. Sitting here reading the paper is not losing the pounds.”

“You look good just the way you are,” he admits, and smiles.

I offer him a drink of water, orange juice, breakfast, and my heart. He accepts the water, which I suppose is predictable.

After he drinks the glass of water, sixteen flowing ounces in three hefty gulps, I say, “You still have some clothes here. Would you like to use the shower?”

He agrees, stripping out of his jogging sneakers, his Aussiebums, and makes his way through the kitchen, teasing me with his model-like nakedness.

We don’t have sex this morning, although I want to. The boarder showers and I continue to read the morning paper. Approximately forty minutes later, he enters the kitchen in a pair of clean shorts, a tight-tee that defines his chiseled chest, and sports his freshly shampooed head of hair. He says, “Thanks for the shower.”

“Not a problem. You know, you can still live here if you want.”