6

Raymond knocked again and counted to ten.

It wasn’t like Rebecca not to answer the door. Did she regret their conversation from yesterday? Was she avoiding him today? Maybe she wasn’t home.

He walked to the garage and peered in the window.

Her car was parked inside. She was home.

He strode back onto the porch, put her mail in the box and turned away. He’d taken two steps when the door opened behind him.

“Ray?”

He turned.

She stood in the doorway, flushed and tousled.

“You’re still sleeping.” He grimaced at how ridiculous it sounded to state the obvious and tried again. “Are you OK?”

She scraped the hair out of her eyes. “I didn’t sleep well last night, must have dozed off while watching TV.”

“Oh. I was kind of worried.” He ground his teeth in frustration. He’d opened his heart to her yesterday, and here he was getting all panicked and tongue-tied because she hadn’t come to the door when he first knocked.

“Sorry, I’m still groggy. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is my day off. If you give me your phone number, we can talk. But, I’d hoped we could have dinner tonight.”

Rebecca grimaced.

Ray’s hopes fizzled. “Never mind, I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“No, wait.” She gave him a genuine smile. “I’m sorry. I’m stiff and sore from cleaning house yesterday and I got on the treadmill this morning. So now, I’m a bit disoriented from falling asleep in my chair. Dinner would be nice.”

He took a step closer. “Where would you like to go?”

Her smile widened. “Someplace casual, I’m not sure I could struggle into a dress or pantyhose, or walk in heels tonight.”

Ray hesitated and reached for her hand. “We could make it another night, Becca,” he offered, not wanting to appear insensitive to her discomfort.

“You’re so sweet. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“OK. Can I pick you up at seven or do you want to meet me somewhere?”

“Would you prefer it if I meet you?”

He chuckled, shook his head. “I’m a traditional kind of guy. I’d prefer to pick you up, but whatever makes you most comfortable is fine with me.”

“In that case, seven is fine. I’ll see you later.”

Raymond lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Until later, then,” he remarked softly. “A tepid bath in Epson salts and a couple of pain reliever tablets might help those sore muscles,” he added.

Rebecca smiled. “Thank you. Have a good afternoon.”

Ray worked the rest of his shift, swam laps and then hurried home to shower and change. All afternoon he’d thought about where he would take her to dinner.

Opening the refrigerator for a cold drink, he spotted the steaks he’d picked up at the grocery store yesterday and smiled as an idea came to mind. Seasoning the steaks and leaving them to marinate, he tossed a salad, prepared potatoes to bake and set the table for two. He’d bought a bottle of wine like the one she had in her refrigerator, and although he had no clue how often—or even if—she drank with dinner, he put it in a bucket of ice to chill just in case.

Excitement curled in his soul as he drove to Rebecca’s house.

~*~

Rebecca dressed with care, a pair of navy slacks, pale blue blouse and casual pumps. She washed and styled her hair, added a touch of mascara to her dark lashes, a tinge of blush on her cheeks and a hint of color to her lips. The ache in her muscles had lessened to mild discomfort and she looked forward to the evening ahead. The phone rang just as she finished her toiletry. She glanced at caller ID then picked up the receiver.

“Hi, Jeff.”

“Hi, Mom!” Her son’s voice boomed over the connection. “What’cha doin’?”

“I’m getting ready to go out to dinner.”

“Where ya goin’?”

Rebecca hesitated a moment. “Actually, I’m not sure. A friend invited me to dinner but didn’t say where we’d be going.”

“Anyone I know?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered, unsure whether he’d ever met Ray.

“Sounds clandestine,” Jeff teased.

Rebecca laughed. “Clandestine? Me? You’re kidding, right.. Or maybe your imagination is in overdrive from too much playacting.”

Jeff chuckled. “Well, are you going to dinner with a male or female friend?”

“Male.”

“So it is a date. What’s his name?”

Rebecca heard the change in her son’s tone. “His name’s Ray and he’s a very nice man whom I’ve known for several months.” She hoped to soothe her son’s mind and ease his worrying, although she wasn’t sure why. With middle-age hitting her head-on, she was pretty sure she could go out to dinner without her son’s permission. Before she could offer any further explanation, a knock sounded on the door. “He’s here. I’ve got to go, sweetheart. Have a good night.”

“You too, Mom and be careful.”

Rebecca hung up the phone a bit concerned at the hesitancy in her son’s voice, but she didn’t have time to ponder long before the second knock came. She hurried to open the door.

“Evening, Ms. Sinclair. You look mighty nice for a casual dinner.”

Rebecca eyed Ray’s crisply starched shirt and slacks.

Gold pinstripes in the pale green cotton shirt brought out flecks of the same shade in his eyes. The shine on his shoes reminded her of the meticulous way Jim had always buffed and polished his to an immaculate finish.

“Evening, Mr. Jacobey. You look nice yourself. Am I over or under-dressed?”

“Neither.” He grinned and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

Rebecca grabbed her purse, closed and locked the door and allowed him to escort her to his vehicle. “May I ask where we’re going?” she asked once they were on their way

Ray smiled over at her. “The only casual place I could think of is usually crowded and that just wouldn’t work for me, so I’m taking you someplace special.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yep. It’s a nice place, quaint but cozy and I always get the best table in the house.”

“I’m intrigued. Does it have a name?”

He laughed. “Ray’s place.”

A hint of unease curled in her stomach. “You’re taking me to your house?”

“After the many times you’ve served me coffee or lunch I thought the least I could do was cook you dinner.” Ray glanced at her and must have noticed the apprehension in her eyes. He took her hand, raised it to his mouth, and pressed feathery kisses over her skin. “You can trust me, Becca. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

The intimate gesture and the way he called her ‘Becca’ eased the pang of anxiety she felt. “I believe that, but your house? Seriously….” She arched an eyebrow in question.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. Though quiet and cozy, it’s not very secluded. There are neighbors within hollering distance should you feel the need.”

His teasing alleviated her worry. She smiled. “Well, just in case you get any weird ideas, my son knows I’ll be with you this evening.” She edged the words with laughter hoping to soften the sting of threat.

Ray laughed. “Point taken. How’s he doing?”

“Fine, though he sounded a bit disgruntled when I said I was going out to dinner with you.”

“Had he objected too strenuously, would you have changed your mind and not come?”

Rebecca shrugged then admitted, “I don’t know. I never thought about how my kids would feel should I ever start dating. I never thought that far ahead. I’ve just taken things one day at a time.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t have to make that choice.” He pulled into the driveway of a small string of apartments. “Here we are.”

Artfully arranged side-by-side, the building contained three apartments. Dark, redwood siding gave it a rustic look, which was complemented by a row of hedges separating the front of the building from the parking spaces. A brick pathway led to the doors and strategically placed flowering plants gave each tiny yard its own personality. A large porch and covered walkway provided a hint of protection from the elements and a white picket fence separated the property from neighboring houses.

Rebecca smiled over at Ray. “It’s so pretty. I can’t wait to see the rest.”

He laughed, got out of the car and walked around to open her door. Escorting her to his apartment, he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. Quaint and cozy described the beauty that surrounded her. Plush beige carpet covered the floor, wainscoting complemented the rustic look outside and a pretty country border added a touch of color to almond walls.

Stopping long enough to turn on some music, and then the oven, Raymond led her through the kitchen and opened the back door.

Each apartment had its own patio. Separated with a partial six-foot privacy fence, they opened up to reveal a spacious yard.

“It’s so sweet. Reminds me of some of the places we lived while Jim was in the Air Force.”

“You’re comfortable, then?” Ray walked over and lit the gas grill.

She nodded.

“Good. We can sit out here a while if you’d like.” He pulled out a chair from the wrought iron table situated at an angle from the grill. “How about a glass of wine or would you prefer tea or soda?”

“Wine? At your house, on our first date? Are you sure I can trust you, Raymond?” Rebecca fought to suppress the quirk of her lips.

Obviously she failed when he eyed her a moment, then grinned. “If we were at a restaurant, would you have wine with dinner?”

“Maybe one glass before dinner, but I usually drink tea with my meal.”

His chuckle reverberated in the air. “Well, there ya go. One glass it is, then.”

Totally charmed, she sat while he poured.

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing, just sit and relax and tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Her heart skipped a beat then kicked into a wild rhythm at the tone of his voice. “There’s really not much to tell. My father was drafted by the Army at eighteen then died in Vietnam. My mother, a nurse, came back from that war emotionally impaired, on drugs and pregnant. She died of an overdose when I was four. After that, my grandparents raised me until I was six. They died within days of each other.” She sipped her wine, swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat.

“And after?” Ray queried, his voice soft, compassionate.

Rebecca took a deep breath. “I became a ward of the State.”

Ray lifted a brow, urging her to go on “They couldn’t find your father’s family?”

Unease hardened her jaw; a flush heated her cheeks. OH, they’d found them all right for all the good it did.

“You don’t have to answer, Becca, if it makes you uncomfortable. I want you to enjoy this evening, not regret it in the morning.” The sweetness in his tone caused her flush to deepen.

“I know this is all part of getting to know one another, Ray.” She shrugged, as much in resignation as to shake off the dread and melancholy that now hovered near. “I’ll have to talk about it sooner or later, and face it, especially with that letter hanging over my head.”

Ray pulled her into his arms, and twirled her into an impromptu waltz around the table. “True, but it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

Giddy from the sudden change in atmosphere and position—but grateful for the reprieve—she emitted a little laugh.

He twirled her back into her seat, and then checked the steaks.

When the steaks were done, and the evening cooled, they moved indoors, but the conversation never waned. Ray talked of his parents, how disassociated he felt from them and how lonely he’d been growing up. Rebecca enjoyed learning more about him, and thought perhaps it would be OK to tell him her story—some other time, when she could dredge up the nerve.

Before she was ready, they had to call an end to the evening. A hushed awe filled the air when Ray drove her home, as though neither wanted to break spell of such a lovely time with the word goodbye. Excitement warred with nerves the closer they got to her house. Having been out of the dating scene for so long—in actuality never having dated at all—Rebecca had no idea what Ray expected. Would he want to come in? Should she invite him? Would he want or expect to kiss her? Was she ready for that?

She knew her worries were unfounded when he pulled into her driveway and put the vehicle in park, then immediately disembarked and walked around to open her door. He held her hand all the way up on her porch, then took her key and unlocked the door.

“May I call you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she answered with a smile then gave him her number which he promptly programmed into his cell phone.

Ray slid his phone back into his pocket then clasped her hand once more and raised it to his lips. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Becca. I hope we can do it again soon.”

Overwhelmed by his sweetness, Rebecca simply nodded and entered the house. She watched through the front door window as he walked back to his vehicle then drove away.

~*~

The next morning Rebecca fumbled for the phone as insistent ringing yanked her out of a sound sleep. “Hello?”

“Mom? Why didn’t you call me when you got home last night? I left you a message to call no matter what time it was.”

Rebecca awoke instantly at the frantic tone of her son’s voice. “Oh, hi Jeff, it was late, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I don’t care what time it was, you should have called.”

Annoyance flared. Rebecca’s eyebrow arched in the same motherly warning she’d used on her children from the time they were old enough to understand what it meant. “Excuse me, young man, but I am your mother. I do care what time it was, and I don’t appreciate you using that tone with me.”

Jeffrey huffed out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Mother,” he ground out. “I was worried. There are all sorts of psychos out there, and I don’t even know this guy. Who is he anyway?”

Rebecca smiled at his use of “mother” instead of “mom”—a sure sign he was upset. “I appreciate your feelings on the matter, but I am a grown woman and perfectly capable of taking care of myself. However, his name is Raymond Jacobey, and he’s been my mailman for nearly a year.”

“He’s the mailman, and she thinks she knows him well enough to stay out half the night,” Jeff muttered.

He sounded so much like the disgruntled little boy he’d once been. Rebecca swallowed a giggle. “Did you say something?”

“No, Mom, not a thing,” he mumbled. “Just be careful will you? I don’t want to lose you to some idiotic, deranged postal worker.”

The giggle freed itself from her throat in a bubble of laughter. “You watch the news too much.”

“And you don’t watch it enough,” he countered, but the amusement in his voice lightened any sting in his words.

“If you’re through fussing at me, may I ask when you’re coming home?”

“We finish up on the twentieth of December. I’ll fly out the twenty-first. When’s Deb going to be there?”

“About the same time, I believe.”

“Maybe we’ll get together on the flight in.”

Rebecca recognized loneliness in his voice and understood how much he missed his sister. “That would be nice. Why don’t you give her a call and work it out.”

“Hey, good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re too busy worrying about postal workers.”

His laughter joined hers through the phone.

“Are you taking care of yourself, eating right and getting enough sleep?” She asked with a smile.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, still laughing.

A knock on her door interrupted further conversation. “Hang on, someone’s knocking.” Rebecca laid the phone on the bed, slid into her robe and slippers then went to answer the door. A young Asian man stood on the porch. She opened the door. “May I help you?”

“I’m looking for Jim Sinclair. Is he in?”

“No, he’s not.”

“Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”

A surge of irritation hit Rebecca. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but my husband’s been dead for over a year.” She slammed the door shut on the kid’s open-mouthed stare. Maybe she shouldn’t have reacted so violently, but for months after Jim passed, a stream people came or called—people who should’ve known better, at least in her mind. Each time she had to tell someone Jim was gone, it reopened the wound. She’d thought she’d never get to a place where she could utter his name and not disintegrate into pieces.

She made her way back into the bedroom and picked up the phone. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here,” her son answered.

“Now what were you saying?”

“Who was at the door?”

“Some kid looking for your father.”

“What did he want?”

Rebecca frowned at the odd change in Jeff’s tone. “I don’t know, probably to sell him something. I informed him that your father is deceased and closed the door on him. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Good for you,” Jeff let out a deep breath. “Look, I gotta run. We’ll talk again soon. Debbie or I will call you with the final details of our flights.”

“OK. I love you, Jeff.”

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Did you have a good time last night?”

She smiled into the receiver. “I had a lovely time. Thanks for asking.”

“I’m glad. I love you. Take care and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“I won’t if you won’t.” Rebecca’s heart ached at the familiar endearment she and Jim had used with both kids from the time they reached their early teens. Tears stung her eyes as she disconnected, but she blinked them back with determination.

She went into the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot. After her daily routine of caring for her plants and reading Scripture, she sat down with a cup of coffee and thought about her dinner with Raymond. From the moment he picked her up until he dropped her off well after midnight, the evening had been lovely. They’d laughed and talked and flirted.

Several times during the course of the evening, Ray pulled her out of her chair and into a waltz, but he absolutely refused to let her help with anything, including the dishes.

Rebecca smiled. He’d been adamant that she was a guest and guests didn’t do dishes.

The plates and cutlery were still on the table when he’d brought her home.