"No matter where you go...

...there you are." I remember that from Buckaroo Banzai. And that's how I feel right now. Here we are. I'm not quite sure where that is, with so many "what ifs..." hanging out there, but here we are.

I'm taking friend Krissie's advice. After nearly three months of dating (in one more week), New Fella is no longer New. He's a Fella. So, from here on out, he's just Fella.

I'd assumed I wouldn't hear from Fella until Saturday this week, if even then. He had parent/teacher meetings Wednesday and Thursday night, and a dance to chaperon on Friday. Late nights, all, and he mentioned staying with his pal up there and squeezing in a couple of hours more sleep.

On Tuesday, he'd been non-committal about weekend plans. I texted him on Wednesday morning to say forget the movies - Game 3 of the World Series was on Saturday evening, but I didn't know if he wanted to hang out for that. No return text. No call that day, either.

Thursday and Friday I controlled myself. No texting. No calling. Work is crazy-busy, so that helped me not think about all that's going on. I have to give one of the "sermon" talks in church on Sunday, so Friday night I settled in to write that talk. It's supposed to be 15 minutes long, so I did a lot of research on quotes and such. And this was made much easier to do because my daughter had a friend spending the night. Twelve-year-old girls do two things: cry and giggle. I had lots of giggling.

While I tried to tune it out and concentrate, my mother decided it was a good time for a chat. She has a knack for this, wanting your attention when your attention is required elsewhere. And she's offended if you run her off. So, I'm sitting at my computer, patiently listening to her, when I hear it. Fella's ringer going off on my phone.

I was genuinely surprised. It was 9:30 and he's exhausted, but he's calling. We talked about the dance and how these middle school kids just have no appreciation for the music he played for them (he listens to country). He asked about how my week went, and I mentioned the conference coming up. He was surprised to hear I'd be gone for five days.

And he actually called back twice, when the signal faded. That was nice. I did manage to tell him about my friend's pull with the local schools, but he gave me all the details of the position he's in. It's a sweet one. Really sweet. I had no idea. He even told me roughly how much he makes. After I got off the phone, I realized that he'd never mentioned Saturday or plans at all.

Like the doober that I am, I called him at nearly noon today. It was 11:00 last night when we got off the phone, so I knew he'd be sleeping late today. I didn't wake him up, but he certainly wasn't fully awake when he answered. Poor guy, I said. Long silences. "Uhm, I'm not quite awake yet," he finally said. "Let me call you later." I told him I was about to go run errands, and I'd call after that instead.

It took a couple of calls, but I reached him. Much more awake this time, but still fatigued. It had been such a rough week for him. I finally made the first move at asking. "So, do you want to get together at all today?"

After thinking a moment, he said yes, but that he wasn't up to going anywhere. Not surprised. "I'm being a bump on a log today," he said. "Want to come be a bump on a log with me?" Okay, I'll take that.

And that's exactly how it went. We had some activity at dinner time. He cooked fajitas on the grill for dinner, but discovered he was out of tortillas. I volunteered to go get some and asked, "What kind do you prefer?" I mean, the guy cooks; he might have a preferred brand.

He gave me such a blank, "what the hell are you talking about?" expression that I started to laugh. Then he said, "Uhm....white?" Daughter and I about fell out laughing. I explained, but daughter just said she'd go with me and know what he wanted when she saw it. So, she and I had a trip to the store, talking about the pros and cons of her brother wanting to join the Army. She even flirted with a guy in the checkout line. She's a confident girl.

She also talked about how much they like her brother's girlfriend. They've even talked about her moving into their house if he does go to the Army. That gave me pause -- if they're talking about her moving in to be with them long-term, then how can they be talking about selling the house and moving an hour away?

We watched the last part of a movie he'd started. "Reign On Me," it was called. Looked like Adam Sandler's attempt at an Oscar role, to me. But it absolutely tore my guts out. I could hear daughter literally sobbing through it. Fella was in the middle, and had sniffles in stereo from us. I was wiping away tears, hoping that it didn't make my nose swell (as crying tends to do). He shook his head at both of us, but we all know he sometimes cries over Hallmark commercials.

We watched Game 3 of the World Series. That was another reason to cry. And that's all I have to say about that. BUT I will say this is the first time I've shared a sporting event with him, and it's one I actually understand quite well. Interesting to hear his commentary. He gets annoyed with the "idiot" commentators and watches a good portion of the game without the sound.

I got to sample Fella's famous cheesecake. Son had told me about it, singing his dad's culinary praises. He didn't do it justice. The stuff is amazing!

Son came in with his girlfriend, wanting to borrow some cash from his dad. He finally got it, and tried to give Fella a kiss on the cheek for it. Fella dodged him and his scruffy face. "See? You remember that!" son said to me, laughing, pointing at Fella. It was time for them to go. Girlfriend gave us "goodnight" hugs, like they were kids leaving for the evening and telling the parents good-bye. When she stepped back from me, she said, "She just smells so good!" Which caused laughter, from last week's smell fiasco.

Still, I was concerned. Fella had been aloof all evening. Conversation was minimal. He didn't often look at me directly, but when he did, he smiled at me. As the evening passed, I said silent prayers, pleading for some indication of whether this was distance between us, or just the side effects of exhaustion.

The game ended. It was time to go. As usual, he walked me to my car. Enjoyed the evening. Take care. Have a good Sunday. He leans in to kiss me, but it's only brief.

This is my indication. I'm disappointed.

For a moment.

He lingers. His hand moves to my cheek. He kisses me again. Longer. His fingers entwine in my curls. My hand slips from his neck to his back. His other arm moves around me, holding me. Deep, sweet, wanting kisses. The ones that make my toes burn.

When we pull back, his tone is gentle. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Yes," I say. "And I'll see you again in two weeks." We're still standing close, my hand on his arm.

He stops. Looks skyward, turning this over. "What....?" He's forgotten.

"I'll be in Utah next weekend."

The lightbulb comes on. "Oh, that's right. That's this week." Maybe, just maybe, I detect a hint of disappointment.

My hand slides down his arm as I start to move to the car. My fingers barely graze his hand, and he makes a move to catch my hand, but misses. But I notice, and move back, putting my hand in his. He holds it tight.

He wishes me luck with the conference, and my talk in church tomorrow. He tells me to be careful traveling. Goodnight, and sleep well.

It's going to be a long two weeks. I just hope it is for him, too.