I was in for a surprise. She hadn’t packed and she wasn’t dressed for the trip. Then she delivered the blow without a word of explanation: she didn’t feel like going. I was crushed. Her mother, an elegant tall woman, who stood in the kitchen a few feet away and heard the exchange, came over and said apologetically, “I’m sorry she stood you up.”
She urged me not to be disheartened and offered a cup of tea. I was in no mood to tarry, but decided to be polite and accept. As we talked, I realized what a thoughtful, charming person she was. By the second cup, I felt distinctly better. When I told her that I didn’t want to go to the beach alone, but hated to miss using the cottage, she astonished me and said she would be glad to come if I wanted.
The cottage had two main bedrooms, but the smaller one seemed under renovation. She said she didn’t mind sharing the master bedroom, as there were two large beds. It was wonderful that we could switch off the lights and continue sharing stories.
We talked for a long time, and I said that it had been a perfect day for me. Then, she decided to make it more perfect still. Silently, she shuffled over and got under the blanket with me.