This is a re-posting of my earliest story, Quartet: Ingrid. I have re-edited it to correct errors in punctuation, grammar, and hopefully, readability.
Monday evening, Steve and Ingrid strolled across the parking lot of Maurice's, their arms around each other. Their idyllic weekend was coming to an end and they would be returning to their regular lives tomorrow.
They had avoided talking about what came next as neither had a fixed idea of where their relationship would turn. They had been so absorbed in enjoying their three days and nights together on the 'Matron', they had conveniently deferred any thought of their future.
They knew now they were destined to be together, and Ingrid was convinced that Steve had fallen in love with her. He had bridged that gap on Saturday morning when he told he was falling in love with her, but he hadn't mentioned the subject again for the rest of the trip.
"Tired?" he asked her quietly as they approached his car.
"A bit. We didn't exactly have a regular sleep pattern, did we?"
"When do you want to talk about us, where we go from here?" he asked.
"How about in bed tonight?"
"OK, but I don't think we'll be coming to any big decisions there, do you?" he replied with arched eyebrows.
She turned and looked into his eyes with a sober expression. "I should be taking this more seriously, shouldn't I?"
"It's up to you. This is about what's right for you too, Ingrid," he said quietly. "You've had your heartaches. You've already told me you didn't want to rush into a new relationship."
"I know," she said as her eyes searched his. "Do you love me, Steve?" she asked simply.
"Without a shadow of a doubt," he smiled. "No doubts ... no ifs ... no ands ... no buts. You've given me what I knew I had to have. This is the real thing for me, Ingrid ... and I'll wait until it's the real thing for you too."
Ingrid's face melted and the tears began to flow. She pulled Steve to her and kissed him with all the energy she could summon. She stepped back after a moment and smiled a wrinkled smile.
"Let's go home and plan our future," she said at last.
"Yes, but ... whose home?" he smiled gently.
"Ladies choice. My place," she said happily though her tears. "But I guess this puts the pressure on me to get your ... I mean ... our ... new home ready, doesn't it?"
"Come on, let's go home," he said, opening the passenger door and guiding her in.
When he awoke on Tuesday morning, it took him a few seconds to remember where he was. Ingrid's bedroom, but he was alone in the bed. He wondered where she was. He hadn't been here before and the surroundings were strange. The clock radio on her night table said it was just after seven thirty.
There was no ensuite in the master bedroom of the older home. He slid out of bed and padded toward the hallway. He stopped and went back for his shorts but couldn't find them. He wandered up the hallway. No one was in the bathroom and the kitchen was empty as well. He walked into the living room and peeked out through the curtains. His car was gone!
"Damn it!" he thought, "Someone has stolen my car!" But that didn't make sense. He walked back to the bedroom and checked his pockets for his keys. Nothing! My cash and wallet and other pocket stuff were all on the table where I had left them, but my keys were gone.
"Ingrid!" he realized. "She must have taken the car. Of course, she couldn't get her car out, so she took mine. But where?" he wondered.
He pulled on yesterday's shirt and pants and slipped his bare feet into his boat shoes. It was another beautiful West Coast day and likely to be warm as well. The only thing he would need to move from his apartment would be his laptop and some clothes. Well, maybe some cooking utensils as well.
He walked into Ingrid's kitchen to familiarize himself with the layout. A bit older than his, but all the essentials were there. He poked around in the cupboards and found few pots and pans. He'd need some of his to supplement this motley collection. He found the coffee maker and the coffee, and put the machine to work.
He returned to the living room and pulled the curtains open a couple of feet. He wondered when Ingrid would return. In the meantime, he became aware of his somewhat ripe body and recognized he needed a shower. They'd been too tired to clean up last night.
He undressed in the bedroom and walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He found plenty of bath towels in the closet and for soap and shampoo, he would use Ingrid's. He stood in the shower for several minutes, relaxing and cleaning his skin of the last of the salt and sweat from their weekend voyage.
After drying himself, he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked back to the bedroom. He headed for the closet and jumped back when he came face to face with Ingrid, standing in the closet with a big grin on her face.
"Good morning," she smiled brightly. She leaned forward and kissed him.
"Oh, Hi," he sputtered. "Where did you go?"
"Over to your place to get some clothes and your computer," she said with a self-satisfied grin.
"Well, aren't you the clever one."
"I like to think so," she said haughtily, her nose in the air.
"Well, since you are the hostess, what's for breakfast?" he asked brightly.
"I don't know about you, but I'll be having my normal, workday breakfast. Juice, yogurt, fresh fruit, muffin and coffee."
"That's not my regular, but it sounds sensible. Mind if I mooch your supplies?" he asked.
"I think that's how it's supposed to work, Steve," she said laughing.
He poured coffee for both of them and sat at the kitchen table.
"So this is domestic life, is it?" he sighed, smiling.
"Yep, this is it. You bored already?"
"Not yet."
