Making Babies

“I love you, too.” The affection in Mitch’s voice was evident.

Love? He loved her?

Footsteps led away from the porch and over the walkway.

When Elaine heard a car door slam, she got ready to make her move. As soon as Mitch reentered the apartment, she would extricate herself from this bush, sneak across the yard and pretend she’d just returned from a five-mile run.

She waited. Mitch must be headed back to the house, but the front door didn’t open. Footfalls sounded, however, leading up to the house, closer and closer to where Elaine was standing. She held her breath through several tense moments then heard a strange plumbing-type squeak. Poking her head between branches and leaves, she glanced around.

Geysers of water sprang up over the lawn as oscillating sprinklers burst to life. The first blast of cold water made her yelp in surprise. She fought her way out of the foliage only to get soaked to the skin by another wet blast. Because she couldn’t see exactly where the water was coming from, she wasn’t sure which way to run. She was aware, however, of some very girly squealing sounds that seemed to be coming from her own mouth, and she heard Mitch say, “What the—”

A moment later, the water stopped, and she was standing on the lawn in a sopping wet T-shirt and shorts. Mitch stepped around the side of the house. “Elaine?”

She wiped her face, opening her eyes one lid at a time. Clearing her throat, she prepared to do some quick talking, but Mitch wasn’t interested in an explanation. Yet, anyway. He took her arm and hustled her into the open apartment.

Leaving her briefly to drip in the entryway, he returned with a soft dry bath sheet. “I brought towels in case I had to shower here,” he said by way of explanation. “Let’s get you out of that T-shirt.”

“I don’t think so!” Elaine grabbed the wet hem.

“The towel isn’t going to do much good if you keep those wet clothes on.”

“I’m not getting undressed in here.”

Mitch lowered the towel. “Right. Because you’d rather be the only participant in a wet T-shirt contest.”

Elaine looked down, gasped and crossed her arms across her chest.

“Do you want to change in another room?” He waved the towel toward the rear of the apartment.

“No. I’m going to go home. To my apartment. But I’ll take the towel.” She held out her hand.

After brief consideration, Mitch handed over the bath sheet. Elaine wrapped it around her nearly transparent shirt and turned to leave. He almost let her before he said, “I’ll be over in fifteen minutes to find out why you were peering through my window.”

Elaine halted momentarily, but didn’t turn around. “Make it twenty.”

He arrived on her doorstep precisely twenty minutes later. The bag he carried smelled like a grilled onion burger and hot fries and had Burgerville written across the side.

“Come in.”

Mitch crossed the threshold, appraising her freshly showered self. She’d dressed in white jeans, a sleeveless cotton turtleneck in pale peach, and gold Winnie-the-Pooh earrings. It was a classic butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth-so-I’m-sure-you’ll-believe-me-when-I-say-I-most-certainly-was-not-peering-through-your-window ensemble.