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“Mrs. Saint, can we come for dinner?” the next-door-neighbor children, Kerry and Emma, asked, sniffing the air.
“Come over at three and I’ll give you a container for your mom,” Aisling said, laughing, pleased that her cooking seemed to bring so much happiness to her neighbor’s kids.
Inside the house, the smell had also disturbed Mike, who had gotten up sometime while she was gone and turned the exhaust fan on above the stove. There was a bowl with a spoon in the sink with remnants of tomato and she smiled, thinking that he couldn’t resist. A loaf of bread was also on the counter, missing a few slices. His breakfast?
The next hour was spent mixing the batter for the cake and sticking that in the oven, and breading the chicken cutlets. Ralph lay at her feet, getting in the way; she just stepped over him, comforted by his companionship.
At three, she heard the shower in the master bedroom squeak on. “Your master is awake,” she told Ralph, whose ears perked up. “It’s time to put on makeup.”
She sang the song fromThe Muppet Showwith Ralph trailing her. “Knock, knock,” she called out. “Can I come in?”
“Only if you’ll join me,” he called back.
“It’s a deal.”
She stripped and opened the shower door, stepping into the steamy cubicle.
“Let me make up for this morning,” he murmured, kissing her neck.
While Mike and Aisling made love for the second time that day, Devon was squelching his desire to arrange rocks in his garden by sitting with his neighbor and her box of donuts, drinking coffee.
“I have to hand it to you. You make great coffee.”
“All I do is put the pod in the machine,” he said, laughing. “It’s not rocket science. You make good donuts.” He picked one out of the box and held it up to her, making her laugh.
“Okay, I get your point.”
They sat out on the terrace, chatting about inconsequentials. “So out of all your firemen friends, there isn’t one you’d stoop to introduce to me?”
“I wouldn’t have to stoop, and the truth is, the few who are single are too young for you. I’m one of the oldest single guys there, and I’m only twenty-eight.”
He’d thought about the battalion chief for Lila, but getting involved in a superior’s love life was not appealing.
“Hey, let me decide who’s too old, okay? I’m as young as I have to be.” She looked at him sidelong. “How old do you think I am?”
“I know. Remember? I grew up here.”
They burst into playful laughter. “And?”
“You’re six years older than I am,” he said. “Thirty-four.”
“Ugh, you make it sound so old. Anyway, change of subject. When’s the pool open? I’ll do my usual pool-girl job if you let me use it.”
“You can use it but not with any men, got it?”
“No men, I promise.” She pushed her chair away from the table. “I’m going to scoot home. I have just enough time to get in a nap before I leave for my barstool at Barnacle Ben’s.”
“I might catch up with you later,” he said.
One of Devon’s guilty pleasures was nursing a White Russian at the bar while watching the fishing boats come into the marina. Barnacle Ben’s Bar stood at the dock, and in the summer, with the windows open to the night air, salt spray and the laughter of others filtered through the screens. The glass would be closed for a few more weeks, it was too chilly at night to be open to the elements, but he still liked sitting there, feeling like a tourist in a resort town.
When the solitary drink was gone, he’d get into his truck and drive back to his mountaintop. Solar landscape lights lined the serpentine road leading to his house, and at the parking area, a motion-detector light would flash on, alerting Tilly. But she’d be waiting there, knowing he’d be home soon.
Tonight if he went to Barnacle Ben’s, it would be late because he had dinner at Mike and Aisling’s to go to first. They’d get cozy after dinner, and then Mike would give Devon the nod that it was okay to leave. It would take a bit of effort to get out of the comfortable chair, satiated with dinner and wine and dessert and coffee, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. The evening always segued to Mike and Aisling murmuring to each other. She’d walk by him and he’d pull her down on his lap, and when his hand traveled to her butt and she giggled and tried to squirm away, Devon would know it was time to go.
They made a striking couple, Mike with his dark good looks, tall and muscular. Devon had seen Mike carry an unconscious man, who had to weigh over two hundred pounds, over his shoulder and down an extension ladder from a second-story, burning apartment in Escondido. Aisling was a good head shorter than Mike, she had a tight, round little body, and Devon avoided looking at her too carefully because she was so cute, and she was Mike’s wife. With Auburn hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose, she had a fresh-scrubbed look about her that Devon found endearingly attractive.
After Lila finished her cup of coffee and left the mountain, he finished up his rock arrangement and went inside to shower and get ready for dinner. The ride down to their condo was craziness, typical southern California Saturday evening traffic. He stopped along the way and got Aisling a bouquet of flowers, yellow roses for gratitude and friendship, and a cigar for Mike at the tobacco shop next door to the florist.
