Love Lessons

“Hang out?” she repeated, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah. We could watch some TV or go catch a movie or play cards—whatever you like to do on a lazy Sunday afternoon.”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I don’t have many lazy afternoons. I usually go into the lab for a few hours every day—or I catch up on laundry or housework or paperwork.”

“All work and no play?” He clucked his tongue in disapproval. “You know what they say about that.”

&nb

sp; “Are you implying that I’m dull?”

He laughed and drew her closer. “No. That is one thing I would never call you.”

And that, she thought, was one of the things that drew her to Mike. He didn’t find her dull.

Chapter Twelve

It was surprisingly easy to ignore the outside world when they really made an effort, Catherine discovered that afternoon. It was also relatively simple to find activities both she and Mike enjoyed, especially for a few hours.

They both liked games. Catherine owned several. She and her friends occasionally got together for a stress-relieving evening of games and desserts, she told him.

“But I warn you,” she added as they set up the Monopoly board. “We tend to get very competitive.”

“Honey, you haven’t seen competitive until you’ve played the Clanster.”

“‘The Clanster?’” she repeated, thinking she must have heard him wrong—and trying to ignore the illogical little thrill of having him call her honey.

He chuckled. “Bob,” he said, as if no further explanation was needed. And of course, it wasn’t.

They played Monopoly. Mike won. They played Yahtzee. Catherine stomped him.

Afterward, they went out for ice cream. After all, who didn’t like ice cream, even in November?

Mike ordered double chocolate fudge chocolate chip. Catherine requested strawberry. They took their time enjoying the treats, their heads close together at the tiny ice cream parlor table. It was easier to ignore everyone else that way—not that either of them knew anyone else there.

It took them a bit longer to agree on a film to see after the ice cream stop. Catherine loved quirky, arty films; Mike preferred gritty action. They compromised on a family-oriented, big-budget adventure film that turned out to be a pleasant diversion for a couple of hours.

They couldn’t really analyze the plot afterward, as Catherine usually liked to do with her friends. In this case, there hadn’t been much plot to analyze. As for the dialogue—well, she supposed some things shouldn’t be critiqued too seriously on this sort of film. But the special effects had been awesome, and she had to admit that the lead actor had been handsome enough to make the two hours pass quite nicely.

“That wasn’t bad, actually,” Mike conceded. “Though I could have done without that kid kicking the back of my seat through the first half.”

“Or the cell phones that kept ringing with those annoying little ditties. Why can’t people remember to turn theirs off before the film begins?”

“That’s why my mother refuses to go to a movie theater these days. Noisy food chewing and cell phones ringing and babies crying and people talking through the films—all that makes her crazy. She just rents everything she wants to see. She and Dad rent two or three films a week, taking turns making the selections since they don’t always like the same ones. They bought a big-screen TV and a good surround sound system, and they would rather just stay home than bother with theater crowds.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

“Do your parents see many movies?”

“They actually prefer live theater. Mother’s been known to complain about the behavior of modern theater patrons. She misses the days when everyone got dressed up and made going to the theater a special occasion.”

“I haven’t seen many plays since Laurie quit acting in high school and college performances,” Mike admitted. “Seemed like all the plays she was in were either just endless, boring talk scenes or incredibly depressing stories about somebody dying tragically.”

Amused, Catherine turned in the truck seat to look at him as he drove them home from the movie theater. “You never saw any plays that you liked?”

“Well, yeah. A couple. I like the musicals. Fiddler on the Roof was my favorite. And Guys and Dolls was okay. That ‘Luck Be a Lady’ song? I like that one.”

It surprised her a bit that he liked musicals, and she told him so.