Eye of the storm

It was a calm Saturday. For a change. I'm thinking that's a good thing. In my life, I've learned to enjoy the mundane.

I was a little worried last night. I asked what New Fella had on tap for Saturday, and he said he hadn't thought about it yet. Hadn't thought about it. Oh, that felt good.

Thinking about it off the cuff, he listed a few errands for the morning, and I listed mine. Then, he remembered the Rockies game tonight. "So, we should do something early in the afternoon, instead of tomorrow night." In a nutshell, we need to wrap up before game time. I got that message and it was all right. This man is a big baseball and football fan. I love watching baseball and am learning to love watching football.

But New Fella has his game routine, and I'm NOT going to be one of those women who demands he change it. The last thing I want to be is a high-maintenance pain in the ass.

So, I get out and about early today. It's a glorious day here. Well, for me, it is. It's cold and rainy. I LOVE it. I told him I'd call after I'd taken care of the early errands. So, I did.

His sleepy voice answered. I rather like his sleepy voice.

"Oh no....did I wake you?"

"No, I was just laying here, kind of awake."

"You didn't get up early!"

"It's too cold to get out of bed," he laughed. "I like to sleep with my window open."

"So, do I. I like to sleep a little cold...."

"...me, too...."

"...Makes it cozy." And I make a note to myself. Compatible sleeping styles. Check.

He groans. "So, what do you have going on now," he asks. "Right now."

Crap. Crappitty crap crap. I can hear it plain as day. His voice has an unmistakable growl to it. This is his "come hither" tone. He's cozy in bed and just might be asking for some company.

And my stupid ass is committed to help my mother shop, in fifteen minutes.

No way out. And I tell him so. He sounds a little disappointed, but he never actually asked, did he? We make arrangements to meet for lunch.

Lunch is fun. It's a place I haven't been to before, where you combine your own ingredients and they cook it up for you. His daughter joins us for lunch. I love how it's now assumed that I take the spot beside him, whenever she joins us. It wasn't like that three weeks ago.

We get back to our table, with our steaming bowls of personalized concoctions. We're digging in and he says to daughter, "You want to try some of mine?" They like really hot flavors. I don't mind them, but I'm not sure he remembers that. So, he scoots his bowl across the table and she stabs a few things from it. It's apparently quite good.

The bowl comes back and he turns to me, "Want to try? It's pretty hot, though." Sounds good to me. My fork is poised, waiting for the bowl to be passed my way, but it's not. Instead, he fills his own fork with some tasty tidbits, and I realize...he wants to feed this taste to me himself. He's never done that before. It's always been "here's the plate - stab it yourself." It's a little thing, but it's sweet.

I reciprocated, when he looked into my bowl and said, "What do you have?" He laughed when I told him it was a much more mild mixture than what he made, but he took my offered bite and was complimentary.

He and daughter started discussing what they needed to do to prepare the Big Ol' Pot o' Chili for game-watching. I'm not part of the game watching, so my heart sank as it dawned on me that these were plans that didn't include me. So, as we left, I was a little surprised when he asked if I wanted to come shopping or go wait at his house for them. We went shopping.

New Fella loves Sam's Club. I gather that he always has, since its inception. So, we make our way through the crowds who have gone shopping instead of the various outdoor activities that were rained out today. At one point, a woman (with her family) said hello to him and they chatted for awhile. Daughter and I gathered that this was a fellow teacher at his school. When she walked away, he explained to us all about who she was. Note: neither of us were introduced to her. I picked up a vibe that this bothered daughter; she gave him a pinched look that brought nothing more than a bewildered "What?" from New Fella.

A little while later, I glanced up to see a coworker of mine right there. "Hello [Coworker]!" I said. And he said hello back, using my full first name. See, New Fella knows me by a shortened version of that name, a nickname. It occurred to me again that he might not actually know my full name, and I made note to remedy that later.

Anyhow, Coworker chatted about the weather and shopping, then I introduced New Fella and daughter to Coworker, by first names. I didn't attach "boyfriend" or "friend," just names, and told them I know Coworker from work. Chatted some more, and went our separate ways.

When I turned back, daughter was saying something quietly to New Fella, and her body language was very "so there!" And he was conceding something. With the immediate contrast in how we handled introductions, I can venture a guess as to the topic.

We returned to his house, and I helped put away the purchases. The thing is that it was all very natural and comfortable. He and I had a few minutes alone, while the preparing of the chili was underway. I actually helped with a little of the cooking. Now, cooking for and around people who really know cooking is nerve-racking. And he knows cooking. Very well. As I'm browning beef, I realize he's watching me cook. Now that I look back, I see missed opportunities to touch him, reciprocate the touches on my shoulder, back, that I've been receiving from him. But I don't know if "Cook Zone" is the same as "Coach Zone." But I see that I need to do something, and soon, I'm sure.

A few minutes later, I see the time and it's getting late. Close to game time. I need to vacate before asked to..... I mention that I have to go soon.

New Fella is chopping tomatoes. He stops dead. "What?! Why? Where?"

I laugh a little and explain about what I need to do.

"Are you coming back?" No, probably not, I say. I'm a little bewildered. Less than 24 hours after saying I shouldn't be there, he really wants me there.

"You'll miss my chili!" he says. He feeds me a taste of his chili. It's to die for! Dang! He laughed at my reaction, saying, "See? I told you I was good."

I refrained from a number of raunchy jokes, all aimed at the fact that I've not yet seen how good he really can be.....but daughter was present.

Again, mundane. But my life needs some mundane!

---------- OOPS UPDATE ----------

10-7-07: I forgot to say how I remedied the thing about my name! See, it's not really something you can come out and say, "Hey, listen, do you actually know who I am?" But my job actually helped with that this week. I FINALLY got business cards. So, as we're sitting around visiting Saturday afternoon, I said, "Oh, I nearly forgot!" and reached for my purse. I extracted my new business cards, saying, "Look! I'm official!" and gave him one of my new cards. He examined it for awhile and put it in his wallet. I felt clever :o)