That’s strange. Bill’s not supposed to be back until tonight. Deciding that sandals were a better choice with water involved, especially as they were probably coming off anyway, he rushed to put them on while surprisingly high-pitched squeals of greeting found their way through the open windows. I guess it’s not Bill, then. Unless he flew to LA for some very specific surgery.The sight that greeted him once he opened the door brought him to an even more astonished standstill.Definitely not Bill.“What ... what ... how...?”“Silver-tongued, isn’t he? The night I met him he was all slick lines and relentless adulation, but ever since he arrived it’s been impossible to get him past caveman preschool. It’s so disappointing.”“I probably should’ve warned you. A few months ago, I watched him lose control of his basic functions in the presence of an outrageously attractive woman. I’m not sure they ever returned.”“Is that right? And now there are two of us. No wonder he’s sub-verbal.”“So, big. It was the first time Cal had ventured this far into Maureen’s parent’s house. He’d seen the outside already. It had that dilapidated look of either long time disuse or neglect. Looking around the living room he saw the clear signs of genteel poverty. Her parents were probably skirting dangerously on the edge of outright destitution, and from the look of things it must have been kind of a permanent condition. Cal sat back on the sofa. It was old but certainly comfortable. It had to be at least twenty maybe twenty-five years old. It had the look of a home made re-upholstery job, and maybe two or three other minor repairs. He was surprised at how comfortable it still was. He felt right at home on it. He asked, ‘Have you lived here very long?’ Andrea, Maureen’s mom answered, ‘This was our first house. We bought it when we first got married. We know it’s not much, but we like it.’ Cal wanted to be polite, ‘I like it here. There’s a warm homey quality people don’t often find.’ Andrea.
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