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It was kind of funny, thought Lucy. The guy was absolutely incorrigible. But she was no pushover, either. “I’ll give you dinner on one condition: You’ve got to get dressed.”
“No problem,” he said. “I noticed there’s closets full of clothes upstairs. Somethin’s bound to fit.”
All in all, thought Lucy, hours later after Klaus had retired for the night, the evening had gone better than she expected. The old fellow actually almost complimented her on the chicken dinner she gave him and took himself off to bed early, insisting he’d rather sleep on the sofa in the family room, where he could watch TV, than in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Lucy had gotten the house back in order and was tucked up in bed in her new nightgown when Bill came home around eleven o’clock.
“That’s new,” he said, observing her granny gown.
“It’s cozy,” said Lucy, smiling at him. “Super comfy.”
“I may have overreacted,” he admitted, sitting on the side of the bed and pulling off his work boots.
“No. You were right. He’s awful, and I should’ve checked with you first. But he had no place else to go.”
“Where’s he now?”
“Family room. He didn’t want to dirty up my sheets.”
“Considerate of him,” chuckled Bill, heading for the bathroom.
* * *
Next morning, Lucy woke up, smiled, stretched, and picked the nightie up off the floor where it had fallen while she and Bill had enjoyed some lively make-up sex. Shivering, she pulled it over her head, and climbed out of bed. Bill had already gone downstairs; she could smell the coffee. She made a quick visit to the bathroom, then found her slippers and robe and headed downstairs. She found Bill in the kitchen, seated at the round golden oak table, digging into a bowl of cereal. “Good morning,” she said, pouring herself a mug of coffee. “Where’s you-know-who?”
“Still sleeping.”
She sighed in relief, sat down, and took a sip of the hot coffee. “The first sip is the best.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, smiling at her.
“You seemed to like the new nightie,” observed Lucy, teasing him.
He glanced at her. “I think it’s the little blue flowers that do it for me.” He picked up his mug and swallowed. “No, it’s that lacy stuff around the neck. The schoolmarmish vibe.”
“So that’s what turns you on?”
He laughed. “You turn me on, Lucy. You could wear a burka and I’d find you madly alluring.”
Lucy put down her mug. “Well, that’s not happening.”
Bill polished off his cereal and got up to put the empty bowl in the dishwasher. Then he stepped behind her and bent down, nibbling on her ear. “You’ve got flowers on your nightie, but we don’t have any in the house.”
Lucy wasn’t sure if this was a complaint or not. “Well, mister, feel free to bring me a bouquet anytime you want.”
“My bad,” he admitted, laughing. “What I meant is that you used to get those flowers that smell so good, you know, in pots. They’re a spring thing.” He headed for the door, where he stopped to put on his jacket. “You used to put a bowl of them on the table every spring.”
“Hyacinths.”
“How come you haven’t got them?”
“I bought them for Easter and Easter’s not much fun without the kids, you know. It’s not like we’re going to have a visit from the Easter Bunny and a big ham dinner.”
Bill didn’t like the sound of this. “We can still have jelly beans and a ham.” He stuck his hat on his head. “I’m off to the hardware store.”
Lucy realized that Bill wasn’t the only one who missed celebrating Easter and the arrival of spring, she did, too. “Okay. Ham dinner and hyacinths. I’ll buy some today.”
“Good. We can invite some people over, make it a party.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said, reaching for a pad and pencil to make a shopping list.
