I couldn't work out from her expression if the innuendo was meant or not. Hardly likely, she had married Bill six months ago. I hadn't made it to the wedding. I helped Bill climb the stairs, which he did slowly, with one hand on the banister and one on the stair treads. I left him as he veered to the toilet and returned to the lounge and the aroma of fresh coffee. I sat down on the couch as Doreen entered from her kitchen carrying two steaming mugs. She sat beside me, not in an armchair, her perfume just discernable over the coffee. We heard the toilet flush upstairs and footsteps over our heads as Bill stumbled around in the bedroom undressing. Then the house fell silent. The sound of the rain on the windows was interspersed with the swish of a car moving along the road outside. We sipped at our coffee; the mugs seemed to go to our lips in unison as we sat next to each other, our thighs touching softly. It was a warm night, the drink was hot but I was aware of the heat emanating. "Of course."I unlocked the door, and since I wouldn't need it again I handed the key to Gerri. I hadn't meant for it to be symbolic, but she frowned as she took it."Sorry," I said."It's alright. I'm just being silly." No."I led her into the bar area to grab a soda for the road. I meant to retrieve my backpack from the bedroom and come back out. But she followed me and sat on the edge of the bed with one leg folded under her, the other beginning to swing restlessly.I picked up the backpack and stood uncertainly before her. She patted the bed next to her, and I sat."I'm sorry," we each said simultaneously, then smiled at each other."You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm amazed you're still talking to me," she said."It's not as bad as all that." But I've hurt you. No, don't deny it; I can see it in your eyes. I'm so sorry."She pulled one of my hands into her lap, holding it softly at first, then interlocking our fingers and squeezing. She lifted her head and kissed me, soft and tender. I.
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