Chapter 22: The Night

He was standing on the sidewalk by his Volvo with his hands in his pockets and nothing else with him.

No bag, no flowers, no plan.

"I turned around at the corner," Eliot said. "I got as far as my driveway."

"And?"

"And I'd like to ask a question, and I'm afraid of the answer."

I crossed the lawn to him.

"Ask," I said.

"Is your mom home?"

"She's on shift till seven."

His eyes closed for a second.

"Delaney," he said. "May I come in?"

I took his hand and led him up the porch steps.

In the dark kitchen, he stood perfectly still while I turned the lock behind us.

"I haven't done this," he said, very quietly. "I should say that first."

"Neither have I."

"I know. I thought you'd say that, and I thought I'd say it anyway."

"Eliot."

"Yes."

"Stop asking permission for everything. I've told you."

He laughed, low, and his glasses slid down his nose.

I took them off.

I put them on the counter, next to the lemon magnet and my mother's note.

Then I took his face in both hands and kissed him until he stopped talking.

He kissed me back slowly, as he had promised.

It lasted exactly as long as my patience, which wasn't long.

My coat hit the floor.

His peacoat went somewhere near the fridge.

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