This story is a continuation of One Little World Ch2, in case you couldn't guess, so I would suggest reading that first. You probably could just read this one but it wouldn't make as much sense.
It is 100% a work of fiction springing from my own imaginings. Any resemblance to real events or people (be they living, dead or unstoppable golem recently unleashed upon the world) is no more than a startling coincidence.
"Hello . . ."
James hated soap operas, they kept the camera too close.
"Mr. Garaz?"
Garaz was dead. The killer was obvious. James still hated soap operas. He stared at the remote and tried to press the off button.
He heard the door open. Tom was home.
"Hey, man. What're you doing?"
"Thinking."
"Course you are. Then again I've seen that look before." Tom took the remote out of his housemate's hand and clicked off the TV. "You only get stuck like that when you can't pick one thing to think about. Susan called didn't she?"
James stared at the blank screen.
"She agreed to come over during the holiday. Tom, what do I tell her when . . ."
"When she comes over?"
"No. When it gets to the point where she has to ask. The point where it clearly isn't worth it for her. What do I say?"
"Same thing ya told me. 'Just because.' It was good enough for me. I think it'll carry a bit more weight with Shanon."
"I can't make her stay."
"Oh, James, I saw the way she looked at you. I might have had my eyes closed at first but just sitting in the kitchen with the two of you for a bit told me enough to know that's not true."
James looked up, "I won't make her stay."
"I'm sure you won't. In fact I'm sure you'll try to convince her to leave. But she'll stay anyway."
"Don't be ridiculous."
Tom sat down and looked at his friend, "James, why do you think I stayed?"
James chuckled.
"What are our knives made of, Tom?"
"Stainless steel."
"Wonderful."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
MONDAY
"Hello, sir."
"Hello, pet."
"Are you sure you're willing to do this?"
"There's nothing I would enjoy more than a few days with you, sir."
James smiled. "Good. Tom has plans over the holiday by the way, pet. You can leave your things in his room. Let's see now . . . I suppose we should eat. Just take your shoes off first."
"Of course."
He made a grandiose gesture toward the kitchen.
The table was set meticulously in an odd symmetry. James had made spaghetti, it didn't seem to quite fit with the rest of the setting but no comment was forthcoming.
"Parmesan Cheese?"
"No. Thank you for offering, sir."
Shanon couldn't help noticing how quickly her lover ate. It didn't seem rushed, just excessively efficient. He finished long before she did but let her keep eating.
He stared at his glass for a long time. The ice was largely melted.
"Sir?"
He looked up. Shanon was looking at him with concern.
"Are you all right? You've been like that for ten minutes."
"Oh." He stood up and began to clear.
"Shouldn't I do that, sir?"
"No."
"W-"
"That's just the way I grew up, pet."
She apologized and dropped her head, crestfallen, but when he put a plate of fruit at her place he whispered in her ear. "Smile."
"May I ask you a question, sir?"
"I suppose."
"Why do you always say that? Smile."
He put down his fork. "If I tried to explain I would end up rambling on for hours and I don't feel like punishing you right now, pet."
She giggled and they finished the dessert without further interruption.
When he finished clearing the plates James had Shanon stand up. He unbuttoned her jeans and had her take them off before they went into the living room.
"Sit down, pet."
Shanon knelt on the carpet.
"Well, I meant in a chair. But that will be fine."
