Always Watching

running hot water, thinking, You can’t just leave him sitting on the couch. You have to say something. But what was I going to say? I’m afraid that my dead husband can see us? I felt a presence behind me and turned around, brandishing a scrub brush like a weapon. Kevin’s dark eyes were soft; his hand reached out to my wrist, holding me in place. He said, “Did you want me to go home?” It was the vulnerability in his face that did me in, shy, a little hopeful. I shook my head, not able to find words to explain the mix of feelings running through my body. I tugged my wrist free and dropped the scrub brush into the sink behind me.
    He stepped forward, wrapped his hand around mine. My slippery fingers entwined with his, the scent of lemon soap filling the air. He pressed his body against mine, the hard edge of the sink bending me backward slightly, his mouth covering mine, soft and gentle. In my mind a quote came forth, Life is for the living. It was something Paul would say to me when I mourned the loss of one of our animals too long. I stepped outside of myself for a moment, stepped outside of the guilt and the fear of letting go, the fear of betraying Paul.
    What do you want, Nadine?
    I wanted Kevin to stay the night, wanted to feel his body holding me close in the dark, wanted the wonder and joy of exploring a new person.
    I took Kevin’s hand and led him to my bedroom.
    *   *   *
    In the morning, I woke with a start when I felt a large male arm wrap around my body. My face warmed as images from the previous night flashed through my mind, each more erotic than the last, wondering how to handle the situation. It had been a while since I’d had to deal with the “morning after.” I eyed my housecoat hanging on the back of the door, wondering if I could get to it before Kevin woke. Kevin, sensing I was awake, pulled me tight against his chest. His mouth nuzzled my neck, sending shivers down my spine as he said, “Good morning.”
    “Morning.” I wanted to lean back into his embrace, wanted to enjoy the moment, but the other part of me, the part that was no longer silenced by sake, wasn’t sure how far I wanted to take this, how far it could even go.
    Kevin said, “I can hear your thoughts from here.”
    I said, “Oh? And what am I thinking?”
    “That you’d love to have dinner with me this week.”
    My nerves came back alive, the sense of things moving too fast, standing on an edge of a cliff and it crumbling beneath my feet while I tried to backpedal.
    “I don’t know.… I have a lot on my plate right now.”
    He was silent for a couple of beats, then said, “I really enjoyed spending time with you last night, Nadine—and no, not just in bed.” He sat up behind me. I turned, so I was on my back, looking up at him. He smiled down. “But we can take this as slow as you want, okay?”
    I nodded. “Thanks.” Wondering what “this” was to him. A one-night stand? A casual sexual relationship? Friends with benefits?
    He said, “Can I at least have a cup of coffee before you kick me out?”
    I smiled back. “I think I can make that happen.”
    *   *   *
    We had coffee, sitting at the table together, an easy familiarity already growing between us at the simple mundane ritual, passing the sugar and cream, our hands touching, sneaking peeks at each other over the rims of our mugs. I talked again about my concerns for Lisa, which had also come roaring back with the morning light. Kevin still thought I should wait another couple of days, and I could see the sense in what he was saying, but it didn’t calm my fears. Saying good-bye to Kevin at the doorway sent another wave of awkwardness through me, but he just pulled me in for a hug and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
    As he started down the stairs, he said, “You let me know when you’re ready for that dinner, okay?”
    I nodded and watched from the corner of my front deck as he walked down the driveway to his car, which he’d parked on the other side of the road. I heard a car start up farther down the street, then the sound of screeching tires. A truck roared past my house just as Kevin reached the end of the driveway. A couple of more steps out into the road, and it would’ve hit him. I let out a gasp and clutched the railing. He turned around, our eyes meeting. Did you see how close that was? He gave a don’t-worry-I’m-okay wave, but my heart was still beating fast as he drove away.
    I was almost sure it was the same truck