and looked very uncomfortable.
“Well, can’t blame a girl for being protective of herself. Say, sun’s almost down. What say you and me catch a bite to eat?”
“I picked up some steaks. I was going to barbecue them as a... sort of an apology.” Blake was on his feet now, heading for the kitchen area. The apartment was far cleaner then Kate had expected a man’s bachelor pad to be. So clean, in fact, it looked like a hotel room. There was nothing personal in the place at all, except for one small photograph frame face down on the glass coffee table. Something made Kate leery of looking at it when Blake was gone, and now that he was here, it seemed gauche.
“Steaks? Are you sure you don’t want me to cook those?” Kate stood up and walked over to the kitchen. Back when she was a kid she did all the cooking for the family. In San Francisco she mostly ate out, but the opportunity to prove she was still a fine preparer of meals was something she didn’t want to pass up.
“I can manage, thanks,” Blake said.
“No really, I want to help.” Kate walked in the kitchen and looked at the stove. It was gas powered. She’d been used to electric, but this would do in a pinch. “Where are your pans?”
Blake backed up into the corner of the kitchen like a cat getting ready to defend itself. “I’m going to cook the meal, Kate. And for God’s sake, I’m not going to pan fry it. There’s a barbecue on the balcony.”
“You’ve got a balcony?”
Blake pointed to the large glass window on the far side of the living room. It was covered in blinds, but beneath that, sure enough, was a balcony. It wasn’t very wide or long. Besides the barbecue, there was a single folding chair and a large pile of firewood.
Kate threw open the door and headed out onto the balcony. Blake’s apartment was part of a complex just a couple blocks from the main road, so it was first somewhat surprising that the view from the balcony was so fantastic. But that was Whispering Pines. Forests and lakes and mountains every which way you turned.
These were the things she loved so much as a child without even knowing it. She couldn’t know it, without having lived in the city without these things for so long. The mountain air was crisp, and the smell of the trees was invigorating. Being surrounded by nature was like being home again.
“I bet you spend a lot of time out here, don’t you?” Kate said. She looked down at the folding chair. There was a book there, some thriller with a leather bookmark in it. The pages were curled and puffed up from water damage and yellow.
“I read out there. Or at least I intend to.” Blake walked behind Kate and had to squeeze close to her to get to the barbecue. He’d showered while she was asleep - she could smell the soapy scent on him.
Same soap I just used , she thought.
“Good book?” Kate asked. Blake opened the barbecue and dumped a bag of coals into it. He looked down at the book, and furrowed his brow.
“I haven’t started it. It’s been out here for two years. Well, you know what they say about good intentions.”
“If it were Dostoevsky, that would be good intentions. This isn’t even mediocre intentions.”
“I’m about to cook you a steak, least you could do is lay off for a few minutes,” Blake said.
Since wisecracks come naturally to me, it would be an effort to stop, so the least I could do is actually just what I’m doing, Kate thought, but did not say. Blake was right - it wouldn’t kill her to cut him some slack. She moved past him, squeezing back into the apartment.
“I’ll get this all started in a moment,” Blake said.
Kate didn’t reply. She looked again at the face down photograph, and curiosity overtook reason. He was out there on the balcony, and he was concentrating on something else. Kate didn’t see the harm - maybe it was some sweetheart that he left in Seattle and was pining over.
Kate grabbed the photo and
“Well, can’t blame a girl for being protective of herself. Say, sun’s almost down. What say you and me catch a bite to eat?”
“I picked up some steaks. I was going to barbecue them as a... sort of an apology.” Blake was on his feet now, heading for the kitchen area. The apartment was far cleaner then Kate had expected a man’s bachelor pad to be. So clean, in fact, it looked like a hotel room. There was nothing personal in the place at all, except for one small photograph frame face down on the glass coffee table. Something made Kate leery of looking at it when Blake was gone, and now that he was here, it seemed gauche.
“Steaks? Are you sure you don’t want me to cook those?” Kate stood up and walked over to the kitchen. Back when she was a kid she did all the cooking for the family. In San Francisco she mostly ate out, but the opportunity to prove she was still a fine preparer of meals was something she didn’t want to pass up.
“I can manage, thanks,” Blake said.
“No really, I want to help.” Kate walked in the kitchen and looked at the stove. It was gas powered. She’d been used to electric, but this would do in a pinch. “Where are your pans?”
Blake backed up into the corner of the kitchen like a cat getting ready to defend itself. “I’m going to cook the meal, Kate. And for God’s sake, I’m not going to pan fry it. There’s a barbecue on the balcony.”
“You’ve got a balcony?”
Blake pointed to the large glass window on the far side of the living room. It was covered in blinds, but beneath that, sure enough, was a balcony. It wasn’t very wide or long. Besides the barbecue, there was a single folding chair and a large pile of firewood.
Kate threw open the door and headed out onto the balcony. Blake’s apartment was part of a complex just a couple blocks from the main road, so it was first somewhat surprising that the view from the balcony was so fantastic. But that was Whispering Pines. Forests and lakes and mountains every which way you turned.
These were the things she loved so much as a child without even knowing it. She couldn’t know it, without having lived in the city without these things for so long. The mountain air was crisp, and the smell of the trees was invigorating. Being surrounded by nature was like being home again.
“I bet you spend a lot of time out here, don’t you?” Kate said. She looked down at the folding chair. There was a book there, some thriller with a leather bookmark in it. The pages were curled and puffed up from water damage and yellow.
“I read out there. Or at least I intend to.” Blake walked behind Kate and had to squeeze close to her to get to the barbecue. He’d showered while she was asleep - she could smell the soapy scent on him.
Same soap I just used , she thought.
“Good book?” Kate asked. Blake opened the barbecue and dumped a bag of coals into it. He looked down at the book, and furrowed his brow.
“I haven’t started it. It’s been out here for two years. Well, you know what they say about good intentions.”
“If it were Dostoevsky, that would be good intentions. This isn’t even mediocre intentions.”
“I’m about to cook you a steak, least you could do is lay off for a few minutes,” Blake said.
Since wisecracks come naturally to me, it would be an effort to stop, so the least I could do is actually just what I’m doing, Kate thought, but did not say. Blake was right - it wouldn’t kill her to cut him some slack. She moved past him, squeezing back into the apartment.
“I’ll get this all started in a moment,” Blake said.
Kate didn’t reply. She looked again at the face down photograph, and curiosity overtook reason. He was out there on the balcony, and he was concentrating on something else. Kate didn’t see the harm - maybe it was some sweetheart that he left in Seattle and was pining over.
Kate grabbed the photo and
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