Free You Belong To Me by Patricia Sargeant

studied L.A. and its beach communities through her passenger window. She should have been familiar with some of the sights. Like the smog that masked the mountains in the distance. And the palm trees that remained evergreen in early March, while the maples waited for April’s nod before allowing their leaves to bud.
    However, in the four years since she’d lived in L.A., there had been subtle changes in the area. And, though she must have noted some of those on her trip back last month, Nicole stared at the passing scenery as if viewing it for the first time. Or perhaps she was just lost in thought, which brought him back to his original question. What was she thinking as she gazed out the window?
    â€œAre you hungry?” he asked. “Or did you eat on the plane?”
    â€œI didn’t eat on the plane, but I’m not hungry. Just tired. I want to get to the apartment and take a nap.”
    â€œAll right. It’s a good thing I stocked your fridge. If you do get hungry later, you can fix something to eat.”
    Nicole turned away from the world outside to spare him some attention. “You stocked my fridge?” Her tone held a mixture of humor and surprise. Malcolm wondered whether her reaction should offend him.
    â€œYes.” He checked the lanes before exiting the freeway.
    â€œBut you hate to shop.” Her voice was rich with suppressed laughter.
    He smiled. “I still do. But I didn’t think you should have to worry about groceries your first week here.”
    â€œWow. I’m impressed. Thank you.” She returned to studying the passing scenery, but not before Malcolm saw the ghost of a smile tilting her full lips.
    â€œPeople change, Nicky.”
    â€œForgive me if I don’t believe that.” Again she spoke to the window.
    Malcolm stopped at a red light. “If you give me a chance, I can prove it to you.”
    â€œThere’s no need for you to go to the trouble.”
    He glanced her way, catching her gaze. “Oh, it wouldn’t be any trouble.”
    Malcolm pulled into a quiet, residential neighborhood. Using an automatic opener he took off the dashboard, he activated the gate that led to the street-level parking garage of a homey apartment building. Once the gate had lifted, he pulled the car into a parking space near the entrance.
    â€œI asked for this assigned space in case you wanted to rent a car.” He turned off the ignition. “But I’d be happy to chauffeur you around myself.”
    Again, before he could help her, Nicole climbed out of the car and took her knapsack from the backseat.
    â€œThank you, but I don’t want to trouble you.” She swung the knapsack onto one shoulder and waited for him to lead the way.
    â€œIt wouldn’t be any trouble,” he repeated.
    Malcolm opened the door to the three-story building. “This key is for this parking lot door and for the security door in front of the building.”
    He gestured toward the door at the top of the staircase they were climbing. Handing her the key, he pointed toward the row of boxes affixed to the wall on the other side of the security door.
    â€œYour mailbox is here,” he said. “It has your apartment number on it but not your name.”
    Turning, Malcolm climbed two more stories to the top floor. “It’s a small apartment building, as you can see. Just eight units, four to a floor. Some older people. A few young couples. It’s a quiet neighborhood. Relatively safe. But you should still take precautions. This one’s yours.” He unlocked an apartment door at the top of the staircase and stepped aside to allow Nicole to precede him.
    Light from the two arched windows on the front wall filled the apartment. Malcolm had directed the movers on how to place the furniture. The cream sofa was centered between the arched windows. The matching love seat stood against the wall to the left of the door. They tossed their coats