Fortunately, I had a habit of trying to stay on top of upcoming projects at my job so that I could be properly prepared for them, so I knew that we wouldn't have anything important on the books until Wednesday at the earliest. Since my boss was also my Dad's best friend as well as the owner of his own company, I figured that he would be okay with me taking a sick day for today.
I called up my job and spoke with a supervisor and let them know that 'something of importance' had come up over the weekend and that I needed some time off to attend to it. When they asked me about reporting back to work, I informed them that I expected to be there on time Tuesday morning. The supervisor wished me good luck and we both hung up from the call. I wandered back into the den and found the two suitcases as expected. Picking them up, I carried them into the spare bedroom. Luckily, I had furnishings in there, sparse though they may be. It was only a dresser with mirror, a side table and the queen sized bed.
I set both suitcases on the bed and noticed that each handle had a leather encased name tag on it. Curiosity got the better of me, so I tried the latches on Hannah's and found it to be unlocked. After the latches popped open, I slowly and carefully opened the lid hoping not to disturb anything inside. The very first thing that caught my eye was another letter on the same stationery that I had just put into my underwear drawer.
Dear Skip-
Don't be alarmed that you found this note. I knew from my dreams that you would open up my suitcase just to see what I left behind. I'm not angry with you for snooping and you have done absolutely nothing wrong. You have every right to know what is being brought into your home by someone who, by all other accounts, would still be considered a total stranger.
I made sure that Haley left her suitcase unlocked, so it is perfectly okay to check its contents as well. This afternoon is not going to get here soon enough. I am dying to hold you close and feel your lips on mine again. I really hope that you can arrange your schedule to come and pick me up from school. But if for some reason it just isn't feasible, I understand.
Your loving, Hannah
A cursory look revealed that it was nothing but several changes of clothes plus the usual toiletries and feminine products. I didn't open up Haley's because I was fairly certain that its contents would be similar in nature. I almost took Hannah's bag to my room, but decided at the last moment to leave it where it was. However, I did go into my room and move a few items in my chest of drawers around. The lowest drawers were usually empty anyway, so I moved all of my stuff in the top half to the bottom half to give Hannah plenty of space for her stuff.
By now, my hunger was getting the best of me, so I knocked off of my chores to cook a late breakfast. In the past, I have discussed the subject of eggs with other people only to learn that everyone's tastes varies. I am included in a group of people who can discern a difference in flavor between common white-shell chicken eggs and brown-shell chicken eggs. My preference is for the brown egg because it has a flavor to me that I can only describe as 'not domesticated'. I wouldn't go so far as to call it 'wild' or 'gamey' because I associate those descriptions with the differences between beef, buffalo and venison. However, I have discovered that there is a significant portion of our population that cannot taste any difference between White and Brown eggs. That is a crying shame.
This morning was definitely shaping up to be a 'Bacon & Eggs' kind of morning. I pulled a can of biscuits out of my fridge, 'flaky' style of course. Using a stick of real butter (not margarine) I greased a cookie sheet and popped open the tube. I set the oven to preheat then arranged the biscuits on the cookie sheet. I pulled out a package of bacon from the fridge and started frying that up in a skillet. Next, I cracked four eggs into a small bowl and used a fork to whip them into a scramble. The oven 'dinged' indicating that it was at the desired temperature, so I took a second to place the biscuits inside and set a timer. Once my bacon was nice and crisp, I set it aside on a plate that I had already covered with a paper towel for the rashers to drain on.
Whenever I finish a jar of pickles, I wash out and clean the glass container. It gets repurposed for a variety of uses. One jar that I kept on the counter adjacent to my stove top was for collecting bacon grease. It has a variety of uses and doesn't need refrigeration. I probably mentioned already that one of those uses is for making roux. I opened the jar and added the contents of my skillet to what was already congealed inside of the jar.
Before setting the empty skillet back on to the burner, I emptied the bowl of scrambled eggs into it. The light coating of bacon grease along with any crumbs would be the perfect seasoning for my eggs. After I replaced the skillet on the stove, I checked to be sure that the heat from the burner was low enough that I would not scorch my eggs. Then I added some freshly ground black pepper and a dash of salt to them.
The eggs were soon completely cooked to a slightly damp stage that I call 'soft scramble'. As I was plating them up, the timer for the oven dinged. The biscuits looked like perfection with their lovely golden-brown tops. I turned everything off and took my plate to the dining room table. I briefly returned to the kitchen to retrieve my soft butter, a carton of orange juice (not from concentrate) and a clean glass.
As I sat down with my meal and began to masticate, I was all at once aware of a certain feeling of contentment that I was feeling that morning. Unlike the depression that had settled over me on last Saturday after my hunting fiasco, life was pretty damn good today. I had entered the weekend without a girlfriend only to exit on the other side with a potential wife and a future sister-in-law to boot, both of whom had showered their affections upon me just yesterday.
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After breakfast, I spent the morning cleaning out my truck. I kept a handful of plastic shopping bags around for just such things as that. I generally kept the interior relatively clean, but there was always a fast food bag or paper napkin or some other debris that had missed making it into the trash bin. It only took a brief moment to tend to that chore. Next, I headed over to a local gas station that offered discount pricing. As an added bonus, they also had one of those automated car washes that would put a roller behind your rear wheel and push your car through the bay at a specified rate for their machines to properly perform their jobs.
If you paid at the pump to fill up your car then you could also select an option to get a discount price for the car wash, paying conveniently for both at the same time. The gasoline pump would issue you a unique pass code to enter at the car wash entrance to activate it. After I washed my truck, I pulled into one of the vacuum bays and cleaned up the floorboard too. I hate to admit it, but this was quite possibly the cleanest that the old girl had been since she left the dealership several years ago.
I stopped in at my favorite home improvement center and bought a couple of items that I needed for repairs back at the house. I installed those items as I was killing time, waiting for the hour Hannah had specified that I should arrive to pick her up from school. I knew that she was wanting to put on a show for her classmates, so about an hour before I was supposed to be at the appointed place, I stripped down and got into my shower to clean up my personal appearance.
I pulled out all of the stops, even blow drying my hair to style it into place. I wasn't going to dress up in a suit and tie as if I were headed to church on Sunday. But I definitely wanted to look my 'casual' best. One of my favorite button-down shirts was a red and white plaid with a breast pocket. My mother used to tease me anytime I wore that shirt. She claimed that I had stolen one of her red and white plaid table cloths and took it to a local tailor for fitting. Thinking about my mom brought a smile to my face. I was really looking forward to bringing Hannah and Haley over to my parents house for them to meet one another.
I made sure that I pulled up to the High School and parked a good fifteen minutes before the appointed time. The goal after all, was to attract as much attention as possible. About 5 minutes before Hannah was due to meet me, I checked my hair in the mirror then got out of my truck. I circled around to the right side fender and casually leaned on it as I waited for my girl. A few minutes later, one of the doors to the school opened up and the love of my life stepped out. What a sight for my sore eyes!
She wore her sweater like a jacket, open and unbuttoned. A plain white blouse was beneath the sweater. Her Auburn hair shown like a beacon in the afternoon sunlight. She had on a green plaid pleated skirt that resembled a parochial schoolgirl type uniform with white socks that ended just short of her shins and dark brown penny loafer shoes. I made a mental note to myself that at sometime in the future I was going to ask her to dress up just like this sans underwear for a role play love making session. Apparently I had a hidden 'schoolgirl' kink, who knew?
"Skip!" She shouted out as soon as she spotted me. Clutching her books to her chest, she ran across the quad towards my location. I stood up straight and held out my arms in welcome. She flew into my arms and I held her tight as I spun her around in a single circle before setting her back on her feet. She took a moment to go over to my truck and set her books on the hood before once again leaping into my arms and locking lips with me. Hannah wrapped her legs tightly around my waist so I put one hand on her ass to support her while putting the other around her back to hold her close as we locked our lips together and our tongues explored each other's mouths.