Page 11 of Tumbleweed Temptation
Chapter Four
Marianne wasn't kiddingabout first thing in the morning. She knocked on his door while he was still toweling off. She’d said eight, and it was about ten till, but here she was.
“Just a minute!” he called through the door, hopping around trying to pull his jeans up his still-wet legs.
He’d almost gotten them buttoned, and had his t-shirt slung over his shoulder for the minute his hands were free as he opened the door.
Marianne walked in with a coffee pot under her arm, one of those single-serve things. “I cannot work without my pumpkin spice,” she declared, setting the machine on the counter and looking for a plug.
He yanked the t-shirt over his head, aware of it plastering to his damp chest and back, before she turned around, the coffee maker’s reservoir in her hand.
“Sorry I’m a little early. The retired teacher in me, I guess. Want some pumpkin spice?”
“Ah, sure.” He hadn’t noticed until then that she carried an insulated bag over her shoulder. She set it on the counter, too, and unloaded a small box of coffee pods and two bottles of creamer.
And a brightly colored mug.
How much coffee was she planning to drink, and if she drank that much, was she going to be even more energetic than she was now?
She touched a button on the coffee maker, loaded a pod, and looked about for his coffee mug. She found it in the sink, gave it a rinse, and put it on the platform beneath the coffee.
“Why don't you come be my receptionist? Then we don't have to go through all these interviews?” he asked, resting his arms on the counter to watch the coffee drip, like that would make the mug fill faster. The scent of fall filled the air, despite the fact that the temperatures would reach the mid-nineties today.
“Oh, no. I’m retired. I do what I want when I want it. I don't like schedules anymore.”
“Then why do you get up so early?”
“Thirty five years of habit. Plus, I love the mornings. Love them. Thinking about getting a dog. I don't know.”
“How long have you been retired?”
“This is my first year out of the classroom. The freedom is a little scary, to be honest.”
“Did you teach here in town? I don't remember you.”
“Not the whole thirty five years. I moved here when the town had an incentive, paying rent and bonuses to teachers.”
“Doesn’t that tell you something about the town, that they have to pay people to come live here?”
