June 19 — Stormy love

She stumbled in, wet from the rain, and we hugged.

“Welcome back!” I said.

A few minutes later, once we’d exchanged weekend updates and Taf had left the room, she leapt into my arms and smiled.

“Do you want to go over to the lodge deck and watch the storm?” I asked.

“That’s a great idea,” she said.

We walked over, rotated the couch on the screened porch to face the water, and sat together.

“Christy is staying the night babysitting the Stevens,” I said. “So I propose that we make tonight one of our late nights together for the week.”

She smiled, pleased with the idea, then asked, “What about Taf?”

“Oh, Taf is…” I paused, searching for words for an effective brush-off. “He’s just over at Windrush doing something.”

Two days later I realized how selfish this sounded to her. I’m not convinced it was actually selfish, but a storm was coming, and tonight was the warm muggy storm-front.