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And always when I stayed overnight with him, love in his bed.
One night before I faded into sleep blotted against him, he put on a TV show calledMythBustersthat had him predicting the outcomes with such hilarity (and accuracy) that I poked him in the ribs, “No more spoilers, Mr. Tony Stark!”
He pretended to be mock contrite, saying, “Pepper! I’m working!”
“You just wait till it’s time forThe Great British Bake Off! I’ll give you spoilers, mister!”
One Sunday, the one closing day for the bakery, I proposed going to the city’s largest museum and then having lunch there. He wondered, “You’re a museum maven?”
He must’ve seen the look on my face. Leighton took me closer into his embrace.
“When Davie and Jerry came and got me, they did their very best to make us a proper family. Anything free that was educational, we did it—I probably mentioned that to you. The city museum is free to residents on Sundays, so we went. Jerry or Davie would set an assignment for me. It was great. I still love it.”
Leighton got choked up and … something else was under that. He just said, “Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Samantha? How did you survive all that?”
“Here I am, baby. Here I am.” I didn’t know yet what the ‘something else’ was. I’d find out in due time.
He kissed me, saying through the closeness, “You are an amazing woman.”
Leighton looked at, gazed at, and bathed me in affection with his expressive eyes and his sexy voice. All. The. Time. I basked in it. And gave it right back to him.
I couldn’t get enough of him. I was magnetically drawn to touching him all the time. I had to hold his hand. Touch his face. Hook my arm in his. Be wrapped around his long, lean body, skin-to-skin with mine in his bed. Connected physically to him.
That first night with him? We fit each other. There were starbursts and fireworks. The closeness was new and I wanted more of that.
Every time was like that with him. Sure, our relationship was brand-new. But I just knew there would always be something more to discover about him. He was smart. He was funny. I just kept watching him, seeing him, and staying close to discover more and more of him.
I didn’t think the next thing I learned would be so hair-raising and scary.
It was just into our third week of dating. Thursday night. He had come to the bakery that morning and I fed him breakfast.
After nearly three hours of night work in the kitchen, I loved that time of day with him, flirting, feeding him, the closeness of it even with Alex and Amy around.
I thought back. He hadn’t missed a morning. Once I asked, “Do you set your alarm just to come down here at the opening?”
He gave me back the zippering of his lips, “Wild horses and all that!” We laughed.
Tonight was Official Date Night. He promised, as we had done several times by now, to come back at closing to pick me up.
But 4:30 came and went. He didn’t come.
A little concerned, I just thought that he’d lost track of time with one of his inventions.
Then, I had a flashback.
I’d get home from school as a kid. “Mom! I’m hoooome!” And Mom wouldn't be there. There I’d be again, wondering if she would be late. Or a complete no-show.
Always the same bad dream!
Standing there in my bakery, I got a lump in my throat remembering how I felt back then. Especially after David and Jerry moved out, I thought about getting that lump in my throat every time I came home to an empty house.
I’m an adult now. I control what I can. The phone worked both ways after all, so I picked mine up and I FaceTimed Leighton.
Roberta picked up instead! Huh?
“Oh, Samantha! Are you at the bakery? Can you come over? I'll meet you downstairs at our door.”
She abruptly hung up on me. What the devil?
