Retreat by June Gray Page A

guest now.
    “So what are your plans for tonight?” Dad asked, standing in the doorway.
    I looked at my watch and realized it was already seven at night even though it was still fairly light out. “I was thinking of dinner with you guys then catch up with Henry after you go to bed,” I said. “What time do you go to bed?”
    Dad snorted. “Honey, we’re retired. We go to bed in an hour.”
    Mom laughed, smacking my dad on the arm. “He’s kidding. We go to sleep around nine or ten then we get up early and take a walk at the beach to watch the sunrise.”
    I sighed, suddenly struck with the wish that my married life with Henry turn out to be just as sweet and romantic as my parents’. I blushed, wondering where the hell the thought had come from.
    Dinner was a chatty affair as Mom and Dad asked me about life in Oklahoma, but it was hard to talk without Henry’s name being peppered into the conversation. Even harder still was trying to remain nonchalant when speaking his name, as if my tone of voice would reveal our secrets. I could have told them right then, but Henry had wanted to wait until we could get all of our parents in one room before we told them.
    After dinner, we watched some television and then Dad challenged me to a game of Scrabble. I was eager to see Henry but I had sorely missed our epic Scrabble games. It was our special little thing since I was a little girl, when I learned to sharpen my competitive edge. Scrabble with Dad taught me patience, creativity, and the art of losing—or winning—with grace.
    It was past midnight by the time we finished. I pulled out a narrow victory with the word Retire and Dad vowed a rematch tomorrow night.
    “I’m not retiring from this conflict,” he said as he started towards their bedroom, raising a fist in the air. “I am merely postponing my victory for another night.”
    “Sure Dad, whatever will help you sleep at night,” I said, putting away the wooden tiles.
    “Where are you off to?” Mom asked when she saw me pulling on my boots and grabbing the front door keys.
    “I’m just going to say hi to Henry. Don’t wait up.”
    Mom flashed a knowing smile and shuffled upstairs, leaving me to wonder if she had psychic abilities.

     
    Even in the dark, I was able to retrace the steps to Henry’s house as if I were a teenager again. We had spent a fair amount of time at that place, as the lure of an unsupervised house was just too much for three teens to refuse. We’d played video games, tried cooking different things in the kitchen, looked through his parents closet. I might have even tried on his mom’s shoes once or twice. Allegedly.
    My mom, however, put an end to it. She wanted us at our house, where she could keep an eye on us. Now that I’m an adult, I can’t say that I blame her.
    The side gate to the Logans ’ backyard gave a little squeak when I pushed it open, but it wasn’t as loud as it used to be, thank goodness. I crept to his bedroom window and peered inside. The curtains were drawn but the glass was cracked open. All that stood between me and Henry was a screen and I wasn’t about to let that deter me. I pulled a quarter out of my pocket and popped the screen up off the frame and, as quietly as I could, slid open the window further and hoisted myself up.
    For a moment, I sat on the window ledge and watched Henry sleep on the queen-sized bed, his limbs flung out in all directions while a thin blue sheet covered the lower half of his body. My heart thudded in my chest, the very sight of him sending tingles up and down my body.
    I pulled my boots off and landed with a soft thud on the wood floor. I walked by a gym bag, a pair of running shoes, and a haphazardly thrown towel on the floor, still damp from a recent shower, before reaching the bed. I stood over him and my eyes traced the contours of his square jaw, landing on the high cupid’s bow of his lips.
    I was relieved to see that he was sleeping peacefully, no frowns or worry