Free Bob at the Plaza by R. Murphy

and showered with the last of the perfume-scented soap from my previous life, shampooed, conditioned, scrubbed, shaved, plucked, and lotioned just about every inch of my body. I dug to the very bottom of my lingerie—read: underwear—drawer and pulled out the lacy set of bra and panties I’d bought in Paris on a business trip (Yikes! Ten years ago!). Amazing. They still fit! All my hill walking, snow shoveling, and adventures with rocks and shale over the past few months had maintained my skin tone fairly well, too.
    As I rummaged through my jewelry box for a pair of sparkly earrings, I came across Bob’s ring. I paused for a moment and sat on the bed, holding it and wondering what my ghost would make of all of this. Deep inside I knew he wouldn’t like it at all. But Bob had been gone for months and life on this frozen shore got very lonely. If I ever did find him, I hoped he’d understand. Then again, who knew if I’d ever even see Bob again? I liked David—very much—and smart, good-hearted, good-looking guys don’t come along too often. And, lest we forget, this was a mouse we were talking about here. Feeling resolute, I put the ring away, finished dressing, and ran downstairs to set the table.
    Promptly at seven, the doorbell rang and David let himself in. After bounding down the stairs two at a time, he headed straight toward me and I slammed into his arms, right into the chill of winter that lingered on his coat. His lips nestled in my hair and I murmured, “You must be freezing.”
    “Not anymore,” he said, holding me close. After a few minutes, when he finally had a chance to shuck off his coat, he said, “I tried two hardware stores for those special traps, Roz, but they didn’t have any. I ordered some, but they’ll take a week so I picked up some regular traps because I didn’t think you’d want to wait.”
    “You got that right,” I said as I brought the fragrant chicken to the table.
    Such a lovely evening! Neither of us seemed to have much appetite for my nice dinner, though, so it went back into the fridge, virtually untouched. We did finish the wine, which made it kind of funny when it came time to bait the mousetraps. Try spreading sticky peanut butter on three aggressive mousetraps when you’re half-snockered and you’ll see what I mean. We’re lucky we didn’t lose any fingers.
    Details? You want details of what happened later? I don’t think so. A lady never tells. Suffice it to say that my long-unworn, lacy Parisian lingerie finally received the appreciation it deserved.
    I’d forgotten how wonderful it feels to wake up spooning next to a warm man in a chilly house. Limpet-like, I’d glued myself along David’s toasty back, my arm over his stomach. He turned over, smiled, and took me in his arms. “It was worth the wait,” he murmured, kissing me on the temple.
    I snuggled into the lightly furred dip in the center of his chest and murmured, “You’re right.”
    “Why don’t I grab a shower first, and then I can scope out the mouse situation downstairs while you’re taking yours.”
    “Uggghhhhh, don’t remind me.” I cuddled in closer. “I’m not ready to deal with mice yet.”
    “No?” David said, a grin breaking out on his stubbly face. “Did you have something else in mind?”
    Turns out I did have something else in mind. And it turns out he was more than happy to oblige me.
    A while later we finally did get to shower, and I listened anxiously while David checked out the kitchen downstairs. “Did you see a mouse?” I called down to him.
    “A little one,” David yelled back. “He probably got in looking for warmth.”
    “I don’t care,” I said, tying my robe as I walked into the kitchen.
    David dropped a plastic bag with the trap and mouse into the trash, saw the grimace on my face, and started tying up the whole bag to bring it out to the garbage. “If you’ll show me where you found the mouse, I can wash everything down with bleach before we fix