We had a pizza picnic on the living room floor, sitting on an old but clean tablecloth. I sat cross-legged while Harry reclined on his side, propped up by one elbow.

"It's a great house, Harry," I said.

"Thanks," he smiled shyly. "Cathryn and I closed on it the day before we got married."

I was slightly shocked simply by the fact that Cathryn had accumulated so much stuff in three short years; even more so that she just let it pile up. I had thought they might have lived here for years before they got married. "After we clean up, maybe I can help you decide what to do with all the new items, the things that you've never used," I suggested.

The pain in his eyes surprised me. "I just don't know how to let any of it go."

"Harry," I said gently, "you don't have any memories attached to these things, do you?"

"No, but I don't know, I guess they represent her dreams. The way she wanted our home to be," he said sadly.

I set my plate aside and pulled Harry up to sit in front of me. We faced each other cross-legged and I brought one hand up to stroke his face. "I understand the need to hold on to some of her. I wouldn't expect it to be any different. But the dreams you had with Cathryn will never be the same without her. So you hold on to your dreams and you hold on to your memories of her." I continued very cautiously, not wanting to overstep my bounds. "But you can't hold on to a life with her...because she's gone."

I expected anger, maybe, or self-defense. Instead, Harry's eyes looked at me with sadness. "I know," he whispered. Then a tear trickled down his cheek.

This was awkward. I was caught in the middle between Harry and his dead wife. I didn't want to rush his grief, but I also wanted to help him let go, in small ways. It was hard to know where my rights began and ended, in a sense.

I moved over to him and wrapped my arms around him, holding his arms against his body in the process. Then I let him go and kissed his cheek. In turn, he captured my mouth with a hungrier kiss. Without breaking contact, I turned and climbed onto his lap. My fingers scratched through his hair and tugged lightly while his hands found their way to the bare skin of my back. We kissed that way for a while, not going any further. I didn't feel comfortable pursuing anything more in his house; not yet at least. It still felt too awkward to be in his and Cathryn's "territory" and it was still quite a mess.

Suddenly a thought occurred to me. "I haven't seen any pictures of Cathryn yet."

Harry looked at me with surprise and then stood up quickly. He went to the bookshelf and grabbed a frame that had somehow turned towards the wall and he brought it over. A younger Harry was standing behind a beautiful blonde woman, leaning over her and kissing the corner of her mouth.

"She's beautiful, Harry."

"Thank you."

"What about wedding photos?" I asked. "I'm surprised there are none on the walls."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Cathryn was good at designing things in her mind, but getting around to implementing them was a different story." He looked around and said, "As you can see. We have an album somewhere and I know we had a 10x12 she was going to hang, but she wanted to find just the right frame."

She couldn't find a frame in three years' time?  I wondered.

"Funny that she couldn't find a frame in three years, huh?" He chuckled, echoing my thoughts.

"Was she a perfectionist, maybe?" I asked, finding it a little humorous.

"You have no idea," he laughed. "She was busy with grad school, but she also wanted the perfect color and decorating scheme in each room and she refused to put any of it up until she had every piece. I kept telling her we could paint and put up the curtains and then add the other accents as we figured out what we wanted, but no, she wanted to do some big transformation like they do on the shows on HGTV." I just chuckled while listening to him. "She used to drive me crazy!" He said.

I found that kind of funny and sweet at the same time, that he could still admit she drove him crazy sometimes. Finally, I stood up and said, "Let's get to work."

We cleaned and organized for several hours, until we were both exhausted and my hands were red and raw from water and cleaning chemicals.

"I told you to wear the gloves I bought," Harry gently chided me.

"I know. It makes sense, but I like to feel things with my hands. With gloves on, I can't really tell if something is clean."

He gently kissed my fingertips. "Thanks for your help. The place looks much better."

"You're welcome," I said, hugging him. "We can come back and finish up tomorrow." As I said that, I realized that it had sounded presumptuous, as if I expected him to stay at my place again. I hoped he would, but I didn't want to force anything. "I mean, if you want to stay over again."

"That would be great," he said. "Let me just grab some clothes from upstairs." I didn't follow him because he hadn't offered to show me the second floor yet. I also thought it might be weird to see the bedroom he and Cathryn shared.

He came back down a few minutes later. "Ready?"

I nodded. "What do you want for dinner? We could stop and pick up some groceries, or we could get takeout. You know me well enough by now to know I don't keep my pantry very well stocked."

"Hmm," he said as we stepped outside the door facing his driveway. "How about some lasagna?" He locked the door and then opened the passenger side car door for me.

"That sounds really good, actually."

"Great!" He said. "Let's stop at the market on the way, then."

We drove the short distance from his house to It's About Thyme  and ventured inside. It was warm and cozy, decorated with sprigs of holly and berries in honor of the coming holiday. We chose fresh mozzarella and Italian sausage, along with tomato sauce, peppers, onions, and of course, lasagna noodles. 

By the time we returned to my place, snow had begun to fall in rather large clumps. I felt certain Harry's car would be buried by morning.

"It's a good thing you're planning on staying over," I said, as I pulled a baking dish from the cupboard.

"Oh yeah?" He asked. "Why's that?"

"Because it's snowing and because I wouldn't want you to drive in this mess."

"Oh," he said, pretending to be hurt. "Is that the only reason?"

"Well, I also very much enjoy having  you here," I said, walking to where he was standing. I took his hands in mine and pressed my chest against his. I tilted my head up towards his face, hoping for a kiss, which he gladly delivered.

"I like being here, too," he said softly. He let go of one hand and stroked my face gently. "You're...." He trailed off for a few moments. I patiently waited for him to continue, content to just look at his sweet face. "You're...a miracle. When I was just beginning to think I'd never be happy again, you proved me wrong. I can't tell you how happy I am that I met you and that you took the time to care for me."

"I guess it was meant to be," I said lightly.

He cradled my head with his palm, pressing his mouth hard against mine. When his tongue slipped between my lips, I welcomed him wholeheartedly, savoring his taste and warmth. My breath came out heavily through my nostrils because I didn't dare sever our connection. When Harry finally dared to pull away and started laying heavy kisses along my cheek, down to my neck, I heaved a satisfied sigh with Harry's name on the tip of my tongue. 

Against my own desires, I gradually pushed Harry away and said, "I'm hungry."

He looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows. "Me, too."

With a smug look, I answered, "I'm hungry for lasagna, so let's cook."

He feigned disappointment, but I knew he was hungry, too. We had put in a hard day's work at his house and it had looked much better by the time we left.

When we finally sat down to enjoy our creation, we were both ravenous. "We work well together, don't we?" I remarked with a smile.

"That we do," he said warmly.

After cleaning up dinner, we both changed into joggers and sweatshirts, opting to cuddle on the couch as we often did.

"Do you have a fireplace at your house?" I asked. "I don't remember seeing one, but maybe I missed it."

"Yeah, I get it," he said, pretending to be insulted. "It was such a mess that you couldn't even see enough of it to tell if there was a fireplace."

"No, seriously," I laughed. "I have a thing for fireplaces. This place is perfect except for the fact that there's no fireplace. That's at the top of my list for my dream house."

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but there's no fireplace at my house either," he said. "What else do you imagine for your dream house? A white picket fence?"

"No," I chuckled. "I'm not that cliché. Let's see, I haven't thought much about it. I really like this place. I like the open space and the industrial chic feel. My parents have a lot of land and I don't think that appeals to me. I'd rather spend my time doing something I enjoy than taking care of a big lot."

"So what do you enjoy?"

"I like to read, duh," I teased him. "I work in a library. According to the stereotype, I should be a spinster with a few cats."

Harry nodded emphatically. "That's exactly what I thought the first time I saw you. There's a woman who is going to become a lonely old cat lady. If she's not already." I cocked my head at him, trying to figure out if he was joking. He held his face for several moments and then burst out laughing. "I'm only kidding, my sweet."

"My sweet," I repeated. I liked the way it sounded with his deep, accented voice. "I like that."

"Good, because you are sweet. And do you want to know what I really thought when I first saw you?"

"Hmm?"

"That you looked sweet," he answered simply.

"You're a man of few words," I giggled.

"I also thought you were beautiful," he whispered.

"Thank you," I whispered back. "You're beautiful, too."

* * * * *

Sorry it's taken so long to update - things got way crazy during the holidays. I should be back to regular updating now, though! <3

Hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!