Even though I said I’d dedicate a few days a week to self care, I felt the need to make up for my lack of production this week. Or at least my perceived lack of production. I recognized this had been an exceptionally busy week, but I had a goal I wanted to reach. I don’t intend to continue working on weekends, but I worked all Saturday morning and well into the afternoon.
The community center was busy, but I expected that on the weekends. I even had an audience for a little while. A man stood by, watching silently as I worked for a few minutes. Hopefully, he was inspired…or something.
When I got home, Dwayne was standing on my porch! That was the best surprise! I attacked him with the biggest hug.
“Welcome to Newcrest,” he said.
I invited him in and gave him the tour, which began downstairs, naturally, leaving my master suite for last. But I could hear the non-existent peanut gallery’s grunts of disapproval and see them side eyeing me for such a cheeky move. My reply to them would be we’re legal now, heh.
As my suite does have a sitting area, we hung out upstairs for a while, chatting and laughing it up like we do. He got a kick out of my welcome wagon story about the old man with the bag.
It was nearing dinnertime and working through lunch had me quite ravenous. We went downstairs and prepared dinner. Yes, we! Dwayne’s offer to help surprised me, though we probably would have been better off without it. I’m glad I love pepper because he dropped the bottle in the bowl.
Though we had dined together before in an intimate setting, our dynamic felt different in my own home—different in a good way. Before the kids moved in with me, I was just fine with the single life. Sure, I missed Ali and the whole marriage relationship, but I was good. Having Dwayne in my home, however, reminded me of what I missed about having a man around. And not just any man, but a man I love and consider a great friend. Will I ever be brave enough to live with him? Would that even work for us? He’s so very particular about his space. If I moved in with him, and made a point to avoid making messes and doing whatever I could to cut down his urges to clean, that would be the same as me trying to be a vegetarian while married to Ali. That was a noble thing I did, but did I need to? I seem to make a habit of changing my entire life just so the people in it are comfortable. I’m not sure I want to continue doing that.
But those are thoughts for another day. Heh, another year. I spent most of my last relationship thinking about the future. This time around, I’m staying in the present. I’m going to enjoy being in his presence, counting the brown flecks in his green eyes, sniffing his cologne, and making a list of his different smiles and what they mean.
And tonight, I’m going to take him back up to my room and whisper all my hot, dirty plans for the night. Then I’m going to take off my clothes and do a little dance. The lap kind. And when he’s bothered enough, I’ll take him to the bed and let him ride me like a sage on a broomstick. All night. Until the entire neighborhood knows his name.
Yep. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I hope he’s ready for me.
