Finding Tuesday by Savannah Scarborough

Author:Savannah Scarborough [Scarborough, Savannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harmonia Books
Published: 2020-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

While I carried my bag upstairs and made room in one of the dresser drawers and in the closet, he sat in his basement office with a handful of statements, probably accessing Bill Pay. By the time we both finished, it was dinnertime. I volunteered to cook.

“It’s only fair.” I bustled into the kitchen, finding an apron hanging on a hook in the little mudroom just off the porch, and then rummaging in the pantry.

I ended up with mushrooms and rice and some leftover roast chicken thrown together in a casserole. May declared it was great.

“You’re almost as good a cook as I am.”

“You think?” I couldn’t resist adding, “It’s certainly odd you can cook so well.”

“I like to eat,” he retorted. “Pizza and burgers got tired fast, so I told myself I was going to learn to cook good-tasting food, and did just that. However, if you want to take over that chore…”

“Why don’t we share?” I suggested. “I wouldn’t want to have all the fun.” I got up to put the dishes into the dishwasher.

Later, in the bedroom, he had me out of my clothes before I could even suggest it. Guess great minds do think alike. About certain things. As he pulled me against his chest, I inhaled deeply, then looked up.

“May, do you use aftershave?”

“Doesn’t any self-respecting man?”

“What kind?”

In answer, he released me and disappeared into the bathroom, returning with an opaque cylindrical bottle. I took it and pulled out the stopper. A fresh, tangy scent wafted out. The moment I smelled it, I recognized it as the same Carter had been wearing. I looked at the label, a picture of an old ship. Old Spice.

“It’s kind of a tradition,” May said. “My grandfather used this brand and he bought it for Dad when he started shaving, and Dad got the same thing for me.”

“Carter McAllister uses this.” I thought about that. “Guess that’s why I thought it smelled familiar.”

“Let’s forget about aftershave for a while.” He took the bottle out of my hand and set it on the bedside table.

Lifting me in his arms, he sat down on the bed, pulling me toward him. I found myself straddling May’s thighs. I looked down. We were pressed tightly together, pelvis-to-pelvis, pubic hair meshing, both brilliantly red. Remembering his remark the night before, You’ll find out, I looked up, laughing.

“I understand now. We’re the same color. Does that mean something?”

He looked down, too. “Definite compatibility.” He kissed me and fell backward onto the bed.

I forgot about aftershave and everything else after that, for quite some time.

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