Free A Fine Line by William G. Tapply

quietly.
    “Living with me?”
    “Yes.”
    “And?”
    She turned her head and looked at me. “Are you serious?”
    “I’m serious about thinking about it some more, anyway. I don’t know. It’s a big step.”
    “You’re damn right it’s a big step,” she said. “I, for one, don’t move in and out with people willy-nilly. If we decided to live together, that would be it.”
    “That’s how I feel about it, too,” I said.
    “It would be a commitment.”
    “Yes.”
    “Scary,” she said.
    “Very scary,” I said.
    When we were at my place, I did the cooking. At Evie’s place, she did it. This time, she said she was in the mood for a big salad and fresh bread. So I sat at the kitchen table and watched her dump stuff into her big wooden salad bowl. Bibb lettuce, spinach greens, slivers of Bermuda onion, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, scallions, green peppers, shiitake mushrooms, green olives, ripe olives, chickpeas, raisins,a can of baby shrimp, a can of tuna fish, a can of crab meat. She splashed on some vinaigrette dressing, tossed it with wooden spoons, sprinkled on some chopped chives, took a pass over it with the pepper mill, and put it on the table.
    I snaked out a green olive with my fingers, sucked out the red pimento, then ate the olive.
    She brought over a loaf of French bread on a cutting board and handed me a serrated knife. I sliced the bread.
    I was thinking how much fun it would be if Evie and I took turns making dinner every night. I kept that thought to myself. It was, indeed, scary.
    After we ate, we cuddled on her sofa, watched an old Hitchcock movie on her TV, and finished the Merlot.
    Henry slept on the cool flagstones in Evie’s foyer.
    Around eleven, we took Henry out for a ramble around Evie’s yard. I didn’t bother leashing him. He’d proven he would come when I called him.
    Frogs were grumbling from the ponds, and some night birds were swooping around, snagging mosquitoes. The ducks and geese had apparently bedded down for the night, but Henry still found many fascinating things that needed to be snuffled.
    We wandered over to my car. I called Henry and told him to jump into the backseat. Then I leaned back against the door. Evie put her arms around my waist, pressed herself against me, and tucked her face into my shoulder. “If you lived here, you’d be home now,” she whispered.
    I kissed her hair and nodded.
    “We can think about it some more, if you want,” she said.
    “Let’s.”
    “Not here, though. And not your place. If we ever decided to, um, cohabit, it should be someplace new for both of us. Our own place. Not yours or mine. Does that make sense?”
    “Yes,” I said. “That makes excellent sense.”
    “Someplace with a yard. Maybe we could raise some vegetables. Fresh salads every night.”
    “I don’t want a big lawn,” I said. “I hate to mow the lawn.”
    “We could hire somebody.”
    “I’m perfectly capable,” I said. “I just hate it.”
    “Sure,” she said. “It would have to be perfect for both of us. I’d want to feed the birds in the winter. Feeders right outside the kitchen window, so I could watch them.”
    “No tame ducks, though.”
    “I was thinking of wild birds.” She kissed my cheek. “Go now. Drive carefully.”
    I kissed her, climbed into the car, and rolled down the window. “I was thinking about going fishing one day this weekend,” I said. “I kind of need to go fishing.”
    “Then you should most definitely go fishing,” she said. “A day of fishing always gives you a better outlook.”
    “Want to come along?”
    “We’ll see. Mary and I talked about doing something.”
    “Maybe I’ll give Charlie a call.”
    She smiled. “Do what you want, Brady. Be happy.” She bent to the window and kissed me again. “Good night. Love you.”
    “Me, too,” I said.

    When I got home, I realized I’d left Henry’s dog food at Evie’s. I’d have to scrounge up something from my refrigerator for his breakfast.
    I found