Carrie and Keith 10

Keith paced the living room floor slowly. He had showered, straightened the house, washed the dishes, and called in an order for pizza with sausage and onions. There were still ten minutes left until she was supposed to arrive. He sighed, trying to dispel the butterflies wreaking havoc in his stomach.

Finally, he heard a knock at the door. His heart began thudding loudly. He went over to answer it. Before he opened the door, he took a deep breath.

She stood on the porch with her papers in her arms. She smiled shyly at him.

"Where's your get up?" he asked as she opened the screen door.

"The sun's down far enough that it doesn't bother me. Plus, it's not a long walk." she said as she stepped across the threshold. Keith swallowed hard and led the way into the living room.

They sat down on the sofa so close that their arms were touching. She handed the copied pages to him.

"Here you go," she said. Her skirt ended just above her knee and the lacy edge of her white slip peeked from under it. Keith's eyes were drawn to it even though he tried to pretend he was flipping through the pages to see how many there were. When he lifted his head to look at her, he caught her examining his face. She blushed and lowered her eyes. He smiled at her discomfort.

"So, you've been living here for...four or five months now? Keith asked.

"Yes," she said.

"What about before that?"

Carrie frowned. "I lived in an apartment by myself for a year." Keith felt that there was more than she was telling him, so he waited.

The doorbell rang and he got to his feet. After exchanging his money for the pizza, he returned to the living room. Carrie was looking at a picture of Vickie. She turned and smiled at him.

"Who's the pretty lady?" she asked as she walked over to take the pizza from him.

"My wife," he said.

"Your...wife." she said slowly.

Keith cleared his throat. "My late wife." Keith said and looked down at the pizza that they were both holding.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," she said and took the pizza over to the coffee table.

"My late wife," Keith muttered to himself as he walked to the kitchen for sodas.

When he got back to the living room, Carrie was bent over, folding the lid to the pizza under. Keith felt his breath catch in his throat and a rush of heat run through his body.

She stood up and caught him staring at her. Even in the dimming evening light, he could see her blush. She walked up to him and took the soda from him. She kept her eyes lowered. Keith resisted the urge to take her chin in his hand and kiss her.

"Do you think we need glasses or plates?" His voice was husky.

"Only if you want them. I'm fine without." she said.

They sat down on the sofa and ate a couple of pieces of pizza in silence.

"You were telling me about where you lived before you moved in with Kim," Keith prompted.

"It was just a little, one-bedroom apartment."

"And before that?"

Carrie took a deep breath. "Oh, you don't want to hear about my boring life."

Keith waited silently until she looked up at him. He recognized the look in her eyes right away. It was the same sadness he had seen in the mirror for the last two years.

"Well, yeah, I do." Keith said.

Carrie picked up her soda from the coffee table and sat back on the couch. "I'm really full." she said.

"Carrie," Keith said. She turned to look at him. After staring him in the eyes for a moment, she sighed deeply and looked down at her hands.