Lena

 

 

"You live here by yourself?" he asks, as we step through the door, breathless from the wind and driving snow.

I wait for him to get inside before closing and locking the front door, and then closing the curtain that Oma added decades ago to keep the chilly drafts out of the house during winter.

"Yes," I say. "Please take your shoes off."

He casts me a look of slight annoyance, but does as I ask. He's only wearing dress shoes, not heavy winter boots like me, and I'm sure his feet must be freezing, though he doesn't let it show.

"Really?" he asks again, as he places his shoes under the coat rack. "You live here all by yourself?"

His eyes wander around the entryway, before inspecting the pictures on the walls, the decor, the furniture in the living room. I know what it looks like, and I know what he's thinking. This is not a young woman's house, but one of an elderly person. And he's right.

"Well, it's my Grandma's house," I rectify. "I used to live with her, but she... she's no longer with us."

His shoulders sink and he looks at me with sincere sympathy. "I'm sorry."

I wave him off. "It's okay. Come."

I don't know why I'm being so short with him. He's being perfectly nice, unobtrusive, considerate. He's nothing like the man who yelled at me for accidentally dumping a box of sandwiches on his white dress shirt. I invited him to stay here. I offered him the opportunity to ride out this storm in my house. I didn't have to do that, he never asked for it. Still, I'm being so awkwardly reserved toward him.

Maybe that's just my way of dealing with attractive men. A very unfortunate trait, really. It's no wonder that I have never had a real boyfriend.

"How long has it been?" he asks from behind me, as I lead him into the living room. I freeze in place, caught by the silly thought that he might have read my thoughts. How long has it been since I have had sex? Since I've been touched by a man? Since I was on a date?

"Since your grandma died," he clarifies, as he sees the puzzled look on my face.

Of course. What else could he be talking about?

"Um, about a year," I say.

"Oh."

"Living room, kitchen," I announce, diverting from the subject and gesturing through each section of the house as we tour it. The living area is connected to an open kitchen and covers the entire first floor. The room is quite big, but it’s so piled up with heavy furniture, bookcases, and both my Oma's clutter and my own, that it seems a lot smaller. The big sofa with the dark green cushions is older than me, but it’s so comfortable and familiar that I never was able to get rid of it, even though it's outdated.

I've decorated the place for the holidays just as much as we did last year, using the same decorations we've used every year since I moved in with my Oma. I hung up fir swag above the windows and the fireplace, and I also lined up our Christmas stockings along the mantle. I even bought a small tree and hung all of our Christmas ornaments on it. The Advent wreath is neatly placed on the coffee table, the first candle waiting to be lit tomorrow, on the first Advent Sunday.

Alongside all the Christmas decorations, the sofa looks a lot less ugly, but more like a matching accessory.

"I'm sure you must be tired," I say, turning back to him.

He's standing close, carrying his weekender bag in one hand and his coat in the other. He still looks so dashingly handsome, despite his obvious exhaustion and the ruffled mess his hair has been turned into from pushing our way through the snow storm to get here.

He smiles at me, and it unravels me more than I like to admit.

"It's been a long night," he says. "And a long day."

"Are you hungry?"

He shakes his head. "No. But if I could take a shower, I think that would revive my spirits."

"Oh, yes, sure," I stutter. "The bathroom is upstairs."

I beckon him to follow me and lead him to the only bathroom in the house. I instruct him where to find the towels, and then take my exit, hurrying back downstairs to the living room to check on Risu, the squirrel I rescued.

I had put a blanket on top of her small cage before I left the house, and I'm not surprised to find her sleeping, rolled up in the little drey I built for her. The cage is placed in a quiet corner between the open kitchen and the living room. Squirrels have a strong urge to move and usually inhabit a territory as big as a soccer field. Keeping them as pets in a cage can be considered nothing but torture, and I hate having to lock her up when I'm out of the house. But in her current state, Risu is not capable of moving on her own anyway. Her leg is healing and she's gaining more strength every day, but she still needs to rest.

I leave her be, but open the door to the cage, so she can get out if she wants to. She's been shy and cautious, so I doubt I'll see her climbing around on me any time soon, but I keep hoping she's going to be strong enough to explore a little more soon. I will release her back into the wild as soon as the worst of winter is over and she's healthy enough to get back to her life in the wild. When the time comes.

I flinch in surprise when I hear the shower being turned on upstairs. I'm so used to living alone that any sound coming from upstairs startles me, even though I know that he's up there. I wonder if it was the same for Oma when I moved here.

She lived here by herself for a very long time before I moved in, since my Opa died when my father was still a boy. She never remarried, but settled for animals as company. She used to have cats and dogs, but never replaced them when they died. Instead, she built an enclosure outside in the yard, where she kept all kinds of wildlife that were in need of rehabilitation. It's too cold and snowy to keep Risu in the enclosure right now, otherwise that's where she would be.

I stand idly in the kitchen, unsure what to do. I was quick to invite him up here, but I never thought about what we'd actually do once we got here. What does he expect me to do, if anything? Should I just ignore him? Should I offer him something to drink?

I let out a deep sigh. One step at a time. For now, I should get changed out of my uniform into something more comfortable.

And then? Then we’ll see. We’ll see how my brilliant idea of inviting him to stay with me turns out.