When we got back to her house, even though it was late, she invited me in. The house was old and small. But because it was well maintained, tidy, and sparsely furnished, it actually seemed large on the inside. And there were only a few knick-knacks on surfaces so that it was uncluttered.
“There’s something I have to show you.” Allison led me through the living room, into the kitchen, and out onto a small porch in the back. She left the lights off. There was a rocking chair, a 2-person swing bench, and a stunning view of the creek and the forest rising into the distance over the hills. It was lit by stars shining brightly in a cloudless sky and a moon whose glow was reflecting off the surface of the water in the creek. It was the kind of scene that felt like home, something comforting that I had not sensed in a very long time.
“Wow!” was all I could muster.
“I knew you’d like it.” She took my arm and steered me into the swing. “I’ll be right back.”
I continued to stare at the scene. I scanned from the sparklingly clear sky down to the back yard and saw what must be her vegetable garden. This wasn’t a small plot with a few tomatoes and a couple of squash. It was enormous, covering half of the area between the house and the creek. That’s one way to cut down on the amount of grass to mow.
I heard some clattering in the kitchen, and she soon returned with two glasses containing ice cubes and liquid. “Lemonade?” she asked.
“That sounds great.”
She sat next to me. I could smell her hair. It was the same pleasant flowery scent as when I first met her in the library. Then, I didn’t know what kind of flower, but I liked it. Now I recognized it was the faint scent of violet, like her middle name.
“Nice view. Looks like a scene from a postcard. Come home to Montana.”
“Yeah, we kinda like it,” she said a bit dreamily.
I wondered who we referred to. It could be we Montana folks or maybe she shared the house with a parent, or pet, or friend. I decided it was not important. I was sitting with her on this beautiful night. Whoever the other part of we referred to was not here. But I was here.
“I always liked this view, even when I was a kid,” she continued. “I grew up in this house and spent a lot of evenings on this porch with my parents. When I went off to college, I wanted something different, bigger, away from here. But when my parents retired and moved to Arizona, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing this old place. So I moved back in.”
“I think you chose wisely. This is a really nice place.” I stopped briefly to gaze at the sky and breathe in the fragrance of her hair. “Why did they move to Arizona?”
“They love Montana, and they miss the trees. But they don’t miss the winter. The cold was just too hard on them. So they went someplace warmer. They come up here to visit for a few weeks in the summer when it gets too hot down south. They still have lots of friends here. And I think they still consider this home.”
“Don’t blame them at all. This is like home.”
Her left hand rested on her thigh. I touched the top of her hand with my right, intertwining my fingers with hers. She squeezed gently. I leaned in close, breathed in the scent of her hair again, and kissed her on the temple. She leaned in toward me and tilted her head up. I kissed her cheek and then her warm soft lips. She responded, pressing into me for a long moment.
“Sis, I’m home.” It sounded like her brother, entering the kitchen and flipping on the porch light, putting us in the glare of the bare bulb. Now I knew for certain who the other part of we was.
“Big brother is watching,” Allison mumbled with our lips still enmeshed. She slowly pulled back, pushing gently against my chest, sitting straight up, and quietly clearing her throat.
“Nice timing, Jefferson.” I suspected from her tone that the formal Jefferson was not meant to be endearing.
Jeff did not seem at all bothered by his obvious interruption of an intimate moment. He simply said, “Just keeping watch over you like I promised mom and dad.” He then promptly sat in the empty chair on the porch, as if guarding his little sister against the advances of me, the jobless drifter from Cincinnati. This seemed like quite a change in character from the sullen guy at the county fair. He was more talkative, more animated, and even more of a pain in the ass.
“And mom and dad wonder why I’m still single,” Allison said mockingly. Then she smiled overly sweetly and asked, “Jeff, I thought you were on patrol tonight?”
“I am,” he said. “Just thought I’d take a break.”
Allison scowled. Then she forced a smile and asked, “Did you have a good time at the fair?”
“Oh, sure. I was only there a little while, but I did talk with Sheriff Tyler. He’s still working on getting additional budget for his replacement when he retires. And he still wants me to quit the county job and take up being Sheriff here.”
“Are you seriously considering the Sheriff job?” Allison asked.
“Certainly would cut down on travel. It’s a lot of county to patrol. But the town needs to come up with the money first.” Jeff continued. “The Sheriff certainly seems ready to call it quits. The loss of his wife and his son really hit him hard. He just wants out. Says he’s going to move somewhere else, maybe somewhere warm. I guess after a while, the winters here can be hard to take.”
And so can intrusive brothers, I thought. There was a long silence, so I took that as my cue. I stood, stretched, and said, “I guess it’s time to call it a night.” I looked toward Allison, and she seemed disappointed. But in her eyes I could see that she understood. The moment had been shattered by Jeff’s presence, so it was time. “Allison, I had a great time at the fair. Glad we went. Jeff, nice to meet you.” I didn’t even bother to extend my hand to shake his since he was not making any move. His elbows were planted on the arms of the rocking chair, and his hands were firmly lodged in a knot on his stomach. So I just grasped the porch door handle, swung the door open, and leaned in toward the kitchen.
“I’ll walk out with you,” Allison said, fixing an icy stare on her brother.
As I held the door for her to pass, she turned her head in Jeff’s direction. She openly glared at her brother and his smug self-satisfied grin. I suspected there were going to be some verbal fireworks after I left. Note to myself: don’t get this redhead angry. There is the urban legend that redheads have volatile temperaments. I had never bought into the connection between hair color and temper, but maybe in this case those traits were fused.
At the front door, she pressed lightly up against me, resting her hands on my chest, her index fingers gently caressing the skin above my shirt collar. “I’m sorry about my brother. He can be such as ass.”
“He’s just being protective,” I said, gallantly defending him, another member of the male order. I supposed that as the man of this shared house, he considered it his moral duty to protect his sister. But it was something that he was doing with far too much delight. I imagined wonderfully bad things happening to him after I left.
“Whatever,” she said dismissively. Then she instantly softened and whispered softly in my ear, “I’ll call you tomorrow.” She planted a warm lingering kiss on my lips, followed by a tender, “Good night, Nathan.”
She said she’d call me tomorrow. Usually it seemed the social norm was for the guy to be responsible for calling to continue a relationship. She was taking the lead, indicating a more equal relationship, more like a partnership in our journey together. I liked that. I liked that a lot.
In spite of Jeff, it really had been a perfect evening. I felt a strong connection with Allison. I hoped this relationship would blossom.
As I turned to get into my car, I caught another glimpse of the moon and stars hanging over the forested hills. Maybe I had come home, home to Montana. Maybe I was no longer litter and could fit into a new life in Willow Run. I wished for that.