Fiddler's Rest

Maddie split off to the left into the kitchen as we walked down the hall, and I continued to the front door myself.

He was there again, as in times past, lounging against the fender of his hunter-green Jaguar, looking oh so casual and arousing. He was holding a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses.

"I thought perhaps we could make a new start of it?" he said, making it a half question, half statement. "Hello, my name is Bill, and I couldn't help noticing what a fascinating house you have here."

I heard Maddie clear her throat and cough as she passed us, pulling a sweater on while she clumped up the drive toward the road—and her own house across the highway. I caught the hint of a grin as she waddled past me.

The house was deserted now—except for me and whoever else I might welcome in.

"Yes, thank you. It is a fascinating house. Would you like to see the inside? It's even more special than the exterior. I had the best of contractors working on it."

"I would especially like to see the master bedroom, if that would be convenient," Bill answered, trying his best to keep the grin from spreading across his face.

"Why yes, I think that would be possible," I said, matching him grin for grin.