The Coach House by Florence Osmund Read Free Book Online Page A

confidence.
    That night they had walked hand in hand the five blocks back to her apartment, the sun way past setting, watching their shadows on the sidewalk grow large and then shrink to nothing as the light from the street lamps showered their bodies. The evening air was cool and still, with only a breath of wind. Halfway there, he tightened his grip and said, “C’mon, let’s go!” He pulled her across the street to a small park. “When is the last time you swang on a swing?”
    “Is swang a word?” she asked, laughing.
    “I don’t know. You’re the college graduate. You tell me. C’mon. Let’s go!”
    He eased her onto the swing, and as he did he kissed her on the cheek. Then he walked behind her and gave her a gentle push. He got on the swing beside her, and as she swung forward, he swung back. “Having fun?” he asked, giving her a flirtatious wink.
    Marie nodded absently, remembering what it was like to be a child again, and then laughed into the wind.
    “Let’s pretend we’re on a spaceship and going to the moon!” he shouted.
    “That’s so childish.”
    “Well, we are on swings. I bet I can beat you there!” He pumped his legs harder and swung higher.
    As she followed his lead, the cool air embracing her face as she swung forward, she felt like a giggly-faced school girl.
    “I’m going higher than you, but then you’re just a girl!”
    She stuck out her tongue at him. “You’re going to pay for that remark!”
    “Boys do everything better than girls!”
    “Now you’re in big trouble, mister.”
    “When’s the last time you played in a sandbox?” he asked as his swing slowed down.
    “I’ve never played in a sandbox.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “Too dirty.”
    “You missed out. Did you ever have a special place as a kid? A place where you could have secret thoughts and no one would know you were there?”
    She smiled. “My mother’s closet. I’d go in there with a flashlight and usually a pencil and paper. Then I’d shut the door and hide behind her dresses, way back in the corner where she couldn’t see me even if she opened the door. I used to love the smell of her clothes.”
    “Why the paper and pencil?”
    “I had to write my secret thoughts. Thinking them wasn’t enough.”
    “Tell me one.”
    “I used to think what it would be like to have brothers and sisters. I remember making a list of the pros and cons. The pros won by a landslide.”
    His smile was faint.
    “So where was your secret place?” she asked.
    “In the attic of the shed behind our house. I would sneak up there when I thought no one was looking. Each time I went up there, I would bring something else up. A book. An empty tin of crackers. An old screwdriver. Anything I could get away with. Then I’d lie on the makeshift bed and pretend I didn’t live in that small ramshackle of a house out in front. I used to spend a lot of time there,” he admitted.
    “What did you think about when you were up there?”
    “My father.” There was a catch in his voice.
    “What about your father?”
    “It’s not important now.”
    Marie tried not to read too much thought into his story. They slowed down to a gentle stop, and he helped her off the swing. When her feet hit the ground, they were standing face to face, not more than six inches apart. With his arms still around her, he leaned in and kissed her, so lightly she wondered if he had even kissed her at all. She wanted to kiss him back but didn’t. Holding her hands in his, he pulled back slightly and looked at her for several seconds, the corners of his mouth turning up slowly. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
    A year later that kiss was still so memorable.
    * * *
    Two dozen red roses were delivered to Marie’s office on the Friday following the Dodgers’ game. The note read:
    So in love with you am I
    Happy aniversary
    love,
    R
    At first Marie didn’t get it. The song “So In Love” from Kiss Me Kate was their song, but their anniversary was in