Are you sick of green yet?
I’m ready to come home, yes. My flight gets in late tomorrow night. Or tonight. Shit, I don’t know.
Sophia asked me to officially ask you if you want to come along to Tahoe. You in?
Tahoe, huh?
Yep. I think Caroline is going.
I thought she wasn’t going.
Have you been talking to the Cockblocker?
Some. She’s pretty cool. The truce seems to be holding.
Hmmm. So, Tahoe?
Let me think about it. Windsurfing this weekend?
Yep.
Text between Simon and Caroline:
So I got invited to the Tahoe thing. Are you going?
You got invited? Ugh…
I take it you’re still not sold on the idea?
I don’t know. I love going up there, and the house is pretty fantastic. Are you going?
Are you going?
I asked you first.
So what?
Child. Yes, I suppose I will end up going.
Great! I love it up there.
Oh, you’re going now?
Might as well. Sounds like fun.
Hmm, we’ll see. Home tomorrow, yes?
Yep, late flight in and then sleeping for at least a day.
Let me know when you’re up. I’ve got that package for you.
Will do.
And I’m baking zucchini bread tonight. I’ll save some for you. You probably have no groceries at all, right?
You make zucchini bread?
Yep
Sigh…
I woke up suddenly and heard music coming from next door. Duke Ell ington. I looked at the clock. It was after two in the morning. Clive poked his head out from under the covers and hissed.
“Oh, shut up. Don’t be jealous,” I hissed back.
He glared at me, showing me his bum as he turned and wiggled his way back under the covers, head first.
I snuggled in deeper myself, smiling as I listened to the music.
Simon was home.
The next morning I woke up so happy it was Saturday. I was caught up on everything: no laundry to do, no errands to run. Just a day to enjoy and relax. Fantastic.
I decided to start with a nice long bath, and then I’d decide what to do with my day. I was thinking of a run at Golden Gate Park that afternoon.
Fall in San Francisco was so pretty when the weather held. I just might take a book and spend the entire afternoon there.
I started the bath and Clive came in to keep me company. He weaved in and out of my legs as I dropped my pjs on the floor and meowed as he explored the top of the tub. He loved to balance on the edge while I took a bath. He’d never fall en in, although sometimes he would dip his tail.
Silly cat—one of these days he was gonna dip more than his tail.
I tested the water. It was just beginning to make its way up the side of the giant tub when I decided I needed a little coffee before I settled in. I padded out to the kitchen—naked as the day is long—to make myself a cup. I yawned as I measured the beans for the grinder.
I tossed a few spoonfuls into the filter and went to get water. As soon as I turned on the faucet, the screeching began.
First I heard Clive meow like never before. Then I heard splashing. I started to smile, thinking he’d finally fall en in, when the water from the sink shot straight in my face.
I blinked furiously, confused until I realized water was shooting out the top of the faucet, spraying the entire kitchen. “Shit!” I screamed, trying to turn it off. No luck.
I ran to the bathroom, still swearing and found Clive hiding behind the toilet, soaking wet, and the tub faucet spraying wildly all over the bathroom. “What the—?” I cried, trying again to turn off the water. Then I began to panic. It was like the entire apartment had gone haywire at the same moment. There was water spraying everywhere, and Clive was still screeching at the top of his lungs.
I was naked, sopping wet, and freaking out.
“Motherfuckingcocksuckershitdamndamn!” I screamed and grabbed a towel. I tried to think, tried to calm down. There must be a shut-off valve somewhere. I’d redesigned bathrooms, for Christ’s sake. Think, Caroline!
About this time I heard the banging coming from somewhere else in the apartment. Of course I thought it was the bedroom first—naturally. But no, it was the front door.
Wrapping the towel around myself and still cursing enough to make a sailor blush, I stomped across the floor, fortunately not slipping in the collecting water, and angrily swung the door open.
Of course it was Simon.
“Are you out of your goddamned mind? What’s with all the screaming?”
I practically didn’t notice the green plaid boxers, the sleep hair, or the speedbump abs. Practically.
Survival mode kicked in, and I grabbed him by the elbow as he was rubbing his eye and dragged him forcibly into the apartment. “Where the hell is the shut-off valve in these apartments?” I shrieked.
He looked around at the chaos: water spraying from the kitchen, water on the floor from the bathroom, and me in my Camp Snoopy towel, which was the first one I grabbed.
Even in a crisis Simon took 2.5 seconds to look at my nearly naked body. Okay, I might have taken 3.2 to look at his.
Then we both snapped into action. He ran into the bathroom like a man on a mission, and I could hear him knocking around. Clive hissed and ran out, straight into the kitchen. Realizing it was just as wet in there, he leapt across the room in an acrobatic fit and landed high atop the fridge. I started to run to the bathroom to help and collided with Simon as he ran to the kitchen. Undeterred, he slid across the floor and opened the doors under the sink. He began throwing my cleaning supplies all over the floor, and I assumed he was trying to get at the shut-off valve. I tried not to notice the way the back of his boxers clung to his buns. I tried so very hard. He was covered in water as well now, and just then his feet slipped out from under him, crashing him to the floor.
“Ow,” he said from under the sink, his legs now splayed out across my wet kitchen floor. Then he rolled over. He was soaking wet and a tad bit glorious.
“Get over here and help me. I can’t get this one turned off,” he requested over the rushing water and the cat meowing.
Remembering that I was only wearing a towel, I gingerly knelt next to him and tried to avoid looking at his body—his wet, long, lean body that was dangerously close to my own. One more random jet of water straight into my eyebal was enough to pull me from my stupor, and I renewed my focus.
“What do you want me to do?” I yelled.
“Do you have a wrench?”
“Yes!”
“Can you go get it?”
“Sure!”
“Why are you yelling?”
“I don’t know!” I sat there, trying to see underneath the sink.
“Well, go get it, for God’s sake!”
“Right. Right!” I yelled and ran for the hall closet.
When I came back, I slipped a little on the wet tile and slid into his side.
“Here!” I yelled and thrust the wrench under the sink.
I watched him work, his face hidden. His arms strained, and I saw how strong he really was. I watched in amazement as his stomach hardened and revealed six little packs. Oops, make that eight. And then the V showed up. hello, V…
He grunted and groaned and as he strained to turn off the valve, his entire body caught up in the struggle. I watched as he fought the Battle of the Valve and was finally triumphant. I also kept a close eye on those green plaid boxers, which when wet, clung to him like a second skin. Skin that was wet, and probably warm, and—