Points of View
by
I consider myself to be a very lucky woman. Scratch that, I am a very lucky
woman both in my professional and personal lives. Not that it hasn’t always
been easy, in fact it’s been damn hard and if someone would have asked me as
little as five years ago if I felt so blessed my answer would have been no.
Having lost my family and spent most of my life alone I didn’t feel so fortunate,
not at all
My father’s strong head for business and vision of the future created a thriving
enterprise that will keep me more than comfortable for the rest of my life.
Joshua MacKenzie was brilliant and full of spirit and there isn’t a day that
goes by that I don’t think of him. He met my mother Elizabeth when he was in
college and the two of them were inseparable from that day on right up until
a plane crash took them away.
But my existence of solitude changed when two things happened, the first when
I landed a job with the Phoenix Foundation as Head of the Archaeology Department.
The second was when someone tall, blond and gorgeous walked right into my life.
Actually he didn’t walk into my life; I walked into his, or rather Pete’s office
but anyway.
From the moment I laid eyes on that blond dreamboat, I knew things were going
to look up for me from then on and we hadn’t even been properly introduced yet.
I often wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t walked right up to him and
stuck out my hand?
Hmmm… Well that isn’t important, what is important is that that’s how Angus
Ian MacGyver came into my life. His big hand gently sliding against mine led
to something wonderful and I’m grateful every day to the Man upstairs that this
kind hearted, wonderful, very special man fell in love with me. I love him too,
with his sweet dimpled smile and large expressive brown eyes, one grin from
him melted my heart into a great big puddle. And a short time later we were
standing on a sandy beach at dawn, pledging our love to one another in front
of the few yet important people in our lives.
It’s that stunning vision of my true love decked out in his khaki pants and
bright white shirt sliding a gold band on my finger that rouses me from sleep.
I groan and roll over expecting to see him asleep facing me like he usually
does. But no, there’s nothing but his side of the bed neatly made and his cold
unused pillow. A strong dose of reality hits me, forcing me to wake up all the
way and the answer to where my husband is comes back to me.
Damn, he’s in Washington, DC with Pete; the two of them at a conference for
Environmental Studies representing the foundation. He didn’t want to go but
naturally Pete just turned on the old charm and suddenly he was packing, grumbling
about the two suits he had to pack with him and why was it that he couldn’t
just wear a nice new pair of jeans and a button down shirt?
That’s my Mac...the king of casual! Getting that man to wear a suit is like
wrestling an alligator with one hand tried behind your back and blindfolded.
You might win but it wasn’t an easy fight. I don’t envy Pete that plane ride;
my money says that Mac complained about that tight fitting tie all the way to
Washington.
Oh well, I can’t mope around in bed all day. With a fling back of the blanket
and sheet I sit up, climbing out of bed. I take this opportunity to stretch,
my pink baby doll pajama riding up a little as I do so. I catch a glimpse of
myself in the mirror, seeing my hair mostly coming out of the pony tail I put
it in. I have to do this, otherwise my dear Darling husband rolls onto my hair
and I’m trapped like a rat for the whole night or until he rolls the other way.
So to save myself a sore scalp, I put my hair in a pony tail or sometimes a
braid before I go to sleep.
But with a quick tug, the rubber band is gone and my hair is hanging down my
back as I go into the bathroom for a nice warm shower closing the door behind
me.
I have the whole day free and I don’t have one clue what I’m going to do. Well,
I better give it some thought…
A nice hot shower later and after slipping into a pair of my husband’s black
shorts and a purple tank top I’m off to the kitchen. My sink is overflowing
with dishes, it’s the one chore I can’t stand the most and it usually takes
me at least a few days to do them, if I do them at all.
Mac knows I don’t like to do the dishes so he normally just puts them in the
dishwasher and runs it at bedtime. Such a considerate man, he never once complains
about it but in exchange for this he makes me do the laundry. I don’t like dishes,
he doesn’t like laundry… aren’t we a charming couple? But now my dishwasher
isn’t here so I better either stack them in the dishwasher or fill the sink
and do them by hand. Well… what would it hurt?
My husband would be proud of me! Here I am, elbows deep in warm soapy water
with the 80’s rock station blaring over my under the counter radio/CD player.
And the scary part is I’m actually enjoying myself! What’s up with that? Dancing
around my kitchen listening to songs I grew up with, if Mac were here he’d be
standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest laughing at me.
Can’t say I blame him though, I probably do look like I’ve lost my mind.
The song ends and because it’s Friday the radio station is having a trivia game,
the prize is dinner for two at the brand new Creole restaurant downtown called
Chateau de la Poisson. Oh that sounds great; I bet they have Cajun there. Cajun
food is heavenly! Especially Seafood gumbo and Jambalaya, oh man I shouldn’t
have mentioned that; now I want some!
“Okay Magic listeners, here’s the 80’s trivia question, good for dinner for
two at Chateau de la Poisson. Name the popular 80’s show that starred one blond
Cousin, one brunette Cousin, one knock out Cousin and a 1969 Charger.”
I think I set my kitchen floor on fire as I race for the cordless phone and
snatch it, dialing the Magic 101 number with speed and determination. With a
little luck I’ll be able to get through with the correct answer. The phone is
ringing and it suddenly clicks.
“Hello Caller number 10 do you have the answer to the 80’s trivia question?”
My heart is pounding and I swallowed hard, licking my lips.
“Sure, the answer is The Dukes of Hazzard.”
All kinds of bells, whistles and cheering comes in loud and clear over the phone
line and it nearly blasts my ears.
“That’s correct Caller number 10! Congratulations! Care to go for a bonus question?
It’s good for a free movie rental from Movie Times.”
A bonus question? Is this guy serious? Well how hard could it be? A free movie
would go great with dinner. “All right, I’ll give it a shot.”
“All right Caller number 10. What fashion style of shorts came from The Dukes
of Hazzard TV show?”
Had a few pairs myself, I’m not exactly built like Daisy but I think I’d at
least give her a run for the money in the leg department.
“Oh that’s easy, Daisy Dukes.”
The bells go off again and this time there’s the sound of hearty applause.
“Correct Caller 10! You win again! A free night of cinema courtesy of our friends
at Movie Times! Who am I speaking to?”
“This is Gill.”
“Well Gill, hang on the line so we can tell you where to get your prizes and
please tell the listeners who has the best 80’s music in LA?”
“Magic 101.” I shake my head as the DJ puts me on hold and another song comes
over the radio. I can’t help but grin at my good fortune, it looks like Mac
and I are having a nice Creole dinner and a free movie when he gets home.
With the dishes done and the kitchen clean it’s off to the backyard. The sun
is bathing everything in its golden light and I raise my face to it and close
my eyes. So nice and warm, and comforting too, makes me feel like a little girl.
Mac and I have spent a lot of time out here working on the yard. It’s huge but
half of it is going to be dug up whenever we decide to get the pool put in.
The east side of the yard is where the pool will go so we concentrated everything
to the west; that’s where the big pine tree is against the back fence. It’s
a huge tree with its long branches, when I bought this house it was already
pretty big. Someday it’ll have a tree house in it, I’m sure. Mac gave it a nice
home there with some wood shavings and a red brick border.
To the right of it, framing the yard are some big wooden flower boxes, also
my husband’s handiwork. Of course what goes into them is entirely up to me,
so I’ve loaded the half dozen boxes with flowers. I planted roses, daises, violets
and poppies. Thought those particular flowers would give our yard some color
other than green of course. God it’s an amazingly beautiful day and its not
even officially spring yet for another couple of weeks. A nice cool breeze is
blowing, moving my hair away off my shoulders and caressing my face like a gentle
hand.
I cross the yard and sit down right in the center of all these colors, the brightest
being the poppies. They range in color from lemon yellow to sunset orange. I
pick one and sniff it, the sweet scent making me smile, a nice reward for all
the hard work it took getting these flowers to grow. I planted them when they
were little sprouts but nothing I did would make them grow. Extra watering,
fertilizer, direct sun, nothing worked until a stretch of unexpected rain. I
went outside one day to find a surprise, little orange and yellow flowers everywhere.
Talk about being proud! I burst with pride that day; I even dragged Mac outside
to show him my little poppies. Something so sweet and innocent about them, I
don’t know what it is. I look at them and they just make me smile. So I better
grab my camera to preserve this garden, I love taking pictures and I think the
flowers would come out beautifully.
Come on babies be nice for your mama now, another turn of the lens the other
way finally brings my flowers into focus. Ah here we go! I’ve already taken
photos of the daisy and roses, so the poppies are all that’s left. Photography
is neat; I really enjoy it though I admit I’m not the world’s best picture taker.
I’ve gotten better though, at least now my pictures are in focus and no one’s
head has been accidentally cut off. So here I sit in the lush green grass with
my sandals off with my legs tucked under me. A small smile comes to my face
as I replace the lens cap and set the camera down.
My stomach suddenly growls and I put my hand over it and pat it gently, sounds
like someone very teeny is hungry. I stand up and brush off my shorts as I pick
up my shoes and camera and head back inside. It’s time to raid the fridge.
I open it and crouch down, seeing what I can have for brunch. Let’s see here,
there are cartons of different kinds of juices and wall to wall fruits and vegetables.
Hmmm, take a guess as to who did the shopping before he left town. You guessed
it, Mac did and boy is it obvious! There’s enough juice here to float the Titanic!
I guess Mac really has been reading that book. I push the milk aside and grab
a bottle of water. That takes care of what to drink now what to eat? The second
shelf has the meat keeper in it and I pull open the small drawer. There’s some
turkey breast and a ton of cheese, Monterrey Jack, Pepper Jack, Cheddar, Mozzarella…
I’m beginning to believe that Mac must have been a mouse in his former life.
The image of my husband with grey fur and whiskers makes me start laughing so
hard I end up sitting on the floor. Oh God what an image! MacMouse! Or would
he be blond? Hmmm… well anyway, I get the Ziploc bags of turkey and Pepper Jack
cheese out and set them on the counter. A sandwich sounds like a decent lunch;
I make it and head into my bedroom for lunch and a movie.
Let’s see here, what would go good with turkey and pepper jack cheese on wheat?
How about a nice horror movie? That’ll either help with digestion or give me
heartburn. I’m digging through the cabinet of the small oak entertainment center
the TV and VCR have been recently relocated to; it’s got wheels so we can roll
it pretty much anywhere we want. Aha! An oldie but a goodie, Friday the 13th
Part II ! Nothing like seeing scores of horny teenagers getting slaughtered
to make my day complete. A quick pop into the VCR and a grab of the remote and
I’m relaxing in the middle of my big bed enjoying the antics of Crystal Lake’s
favorite invincible bad guy…reminds me a lot of Murdoc.
The plate is set aside and I stretch out horizontally across the bed, plucking
my husband’s pillow from under the comforter and scrunching it up under my head.
If I can’t lie on the real thing, his pillow will do for now. Being outside
in the warm sunshine is beginning to take its toll on me….
“Gillian?”
A soft yet familiar voice is in my ear, I open my eyes to see the smiling face
of my husband, he’s lying beside me in a t-shirt and jeans.
“Now this is what I call a dream.”
That gets him laughing as he leans forward and kisses me, touching his forehead
to mine. “You’re not dreaming.”
He’s right, he’s way too warm and wonderful feeling to be anything but the real
thing. The first thing I do is hug him, nuzzle his chest and take in the feel
of his body and the scent of his skin.
“Oh I missed you, but I thought you weren’t coming home ‘til Sunday?”
Mac rolls us over, using little old me as a blanket. “Yeah that’s what I thought
too but Pete showed mercy and let me come home.” His hands rub up and down my
back slowly, sighing.
“Sounds like someone missed me.” I bury my nose in the crook of his neck and
give it a little kiss.
“Someone did, having Pete for a roommate for the past two days has left me tired
and cranky. He’s no substitute for you that’s for sure.”
“Of course, I don’t snore and I’m much prettier than he is.” I lift my head
and flutter my eyelashes at him. He stares at me wide eyed and starts laughing,
holding me even closer.
“Now there’s a thought.”
The tickets and the movie suddenly pop back in my head.
“You’re not too tired are you?”
“That depends on what you have in mind.” He rolls us over again and starts kissing
my neck. His lips brush against the side and its instant goose bumps that make
me cringe and sigh at the same time. It’s pretty clear what he thinks I meant,
and its not that I’m not interested…
“Mac.” Ooops that sounded more like a breathy whisper than his actual name but
it gets his attention just the same and he raises his head to look down at me.
“Yeah?”
Those gorgeous eyes are peering right into my face and just their inquisitive
gaze gets my heart pounding. I touch that handsome face gently. “The reason
I’m asking is I won a dinner for two at that new Creole restaurant downtown
and a free rental movie.”
“You did? How’d you manage that?”
I shrug, moving my hands up his cheeks and into his hair playing with it. I
just love running my fingers through it especially now that it’s gotten longer.
“I’m an 80’s child; there were some great TV shows on during that time. I answered
some trivia correctly.”
Mac nods, his eyebrows going up. “Oh well when you asked if I was tired I thought
you wanted…” A grin blooms on his lips and I know it all too well. It’s that
wicked little smirk that turns my insides to Jell-O and makes me willing to
agree to just about anything.
“Who says I don’t?” Now I’m the one with the big beam as I tilt his head back
and run my lips up his throat. God he tastes good, sweet yet spicy…I can easily
make a meal out of his neck. With a gentle push on his shoulders I lay him back
on the bed. He’s all mine, I can see that in those mocha colored eyes of his;
they’re focused right on me as I stretch out on top of him.
It’s dinner time and believe me we’ve worked up an appetite! My husband and
I ravaged each other and slept for four straight hours. Sleep isn’t quite the
word; coma would be a better one. Not that I’m complaining mind you and neither
is he. He just grinned at me, those dark eyes playful yet smoldering as he gets
up from the bed and goes to take a shower. I hear the water turn on as I open
my closet door and walk inside, I need something casual yet nice to wear to
the restaurant. Hmm…how about a dress? Something short, yet nice that just might
make my husband take me back to bed. Aha! My little aquamarine number with the
Hawaiian style flower print, I even have matching pumps and my shell necklace
should go nicely. Well that takes care of what I’m going to wear. The shower
turns off and I lay my dress out and open the bathroom door, a wave of steam
greets me as does the fresh clean scent of my husband’s shampoo. I can see his
silhouette behind the curtain; I recognize that shape anywhere as I pick up
his blue towel and throw back the curtain.
“BOO!”
Mac isn’t scared; he simply stands there naked with his hands on his hips.
“Very funny, can I have my towel?”
The water is rolling down his chest and stomach and his hair has turned a dark
blond. He looks all shiny in the overhead light and his muscles are gleaming
in such a way that it makes me sigh out of appreciation.
He cocks his head at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “Gillian? Can I have
my towel?”
Oh! Right! The towel! I hand it to him, reluctantly, still enjoying the view
as he unfolds it and presses it to his face. He dries off his chest and back
before wrapping it around his waist as he steps over the side of the tub.
“The warm water’s all yours.” He announces as he shoots me a wink and leaves
the bathroom.
I take a quick shower and open the door to find my husband standing in front
of his dresser. My God I think I just swallowed my tongue. He’s standing there
in a brand new pair of solid black jeans and a cream colored silk shirt. I’m
gawking at him and he turns towards me and gives me a wide grin.
“Hey, what do you think?”
“What do I think? I think my eyes just popped out of my head!”
This only makes him laugh and shakes his head as he picks up his bottle of after
shave and dabs some on his face and neck. He picks up his brush and fixes his
hair before setting it back down. He goes to his closet and takes out his black
leather jacket. I can’t help but whimper, with that jacket and that shirt I’ll
be fighting off women with a whip and a chair!
I manage to come out of my stupor and start to get dressed, slipping into my
bra and panties as Mac sits on the bed and watches me; a small smile on his
face as he leans against the headboard.
“Enjoying the show?” I ask as I run my brush through my hair and fling it over
my shoulder.
“You know I am.”
I put my brush back down and pick up my dress, taking it off the hanger.
“I can’t wait to try that place, I’m starving.”
“Yeah it should be good.” He’s still watching me, I can feel it.
A thought suddenly pops into my head and I turn towards him. “And speaking of
food, what’s with all the cheese Mac?”
“Nothing wrong with cheese, it’s good for you. It has a lot of calcium.” He
draws one leg up and hugs it. “Both your doctor and that book say you need plenty
of it.”
“Yeah I know I need the calcium but I’m just one woman Mac. You’ve got enough
cheese in that fridge to constipate a rhino.” I slip my dress over my head as
my husband bursts into laughter.
“I do not; I just thought a little variety would be good.”
“A little yeah but there’s more cheese than Hickory Farms in that fridge, you’re
going to have to help me eat it all.”
Mac gets off the bed and turns me around, zipping up my dress. “No problem,
I love cheese.” He put his hands on my shoulders and kisses my cheek. “I just
want you both to be healthy.”
I face him and put my arms around his neck. “I know that and believe me so do
I.”
He leans down and gives me a tiny kiss, stepping back to look me over.
“God you’re beautiful.” His tone is soft as he raises his head to meet my face.
Those shimmering chocolate eyes staring directly into mine as his fingers touch
my hair and stroke it.
“Thank you.” I take his hand from my hair and give it a kiss. “But I better
finish getting ready or we’ll be having dinner at midnight.”
Well this isn’t what I expected in a Creole restaurant, and I don’t think Mac
expected it either. He pulls up in the Corvette to what looks like an abandoned
red brick building with round arches all along the front of it. The words Chateau
de la Poisson are in bright blue neon just above the arches. A young dark haired
man in a red uniform jacket opens Mac’s door and sticks out his hand.
“Valet Parking sir, may I have your keys?” Mac steps out and hands him the keys
while another young man with blond hair opens my door and offers his hand.
“Good Evening, welcome to Chateau de la Poisson.”
I take his hand and he helps me out, closing the door behind me.
I walk around the car, where Mac is waiting for me holding out his hand that
I take as we walk into the pair of wide open oak doors with frosted glass panels.
Another man in a black tuxedo gives us a slight bow of his head.
“Welcome to Chateau de la Poisson.” He’s a heavy set man with a balding head
and a grey mustache that sort of reminds of Pete; a long maroon menu is in his
hands. This guy might be the manager; he’s who I’m supposed to see for my prize.
“Excuse me, are you Mr. Nicholas?”
His eyes widen and puzzlement flashes across his face. “Yes? Do I know you Miss?”
“No, but the DJ as Magic 101 told me that you’d be the one to see for my prizes?”
“Prizes?” His blue eyes grow even wider briefly before he raises his head. “Ah
of course, the trivia contest. Allow me to show you to a private table.” He
gives a gracious bow and stretches out his hand towards the dining room.
A snow white tiled floor and a wooden staircase to the right are the first things
we see. The room is filled with rectangle tables topped with maroon tablecloths.
A sparking crystal chandelier hangs overhead and my husband lifts his head to
look up at it.
“Wow, nice place.”
We’re lead to a table in another room, separated from the main room by a pair
of glass doors. There’s no one in this section and the décor is slightly
fancier. Only about a half dozen tables with dark blue tablecloths form a square
around the room. The center has a gorgeous stone fountain and a small pond filled
with koi fish, the sound of running water filling the empty room.
Mr. Nicholas puts us in a corner table beside a window; the sheer white drapes
are open to show a view of the city. “I hope this will make you both happy.”
He pulls a chair out for me and I sit down.
“It’s fine.” Mac has a seat and scoots his chair up to the table. He takes off
his leather jacket and puts it over his chair.
He hands us two maroon menus and tells us that our server would be with us in
a while.
Mac watches him leave before opening the menu and looking over everything. “Cajun
cooking, it’s been awhile since I’ve been to Louisiana.”
“Yeah I haven’t been since I was a kid. I once spent the summer in New Orleans
with my grandparents.”
Wow it all looks good and thank God I won this dinner because the prices are
high! The cheapest thing on here is a seven dollar bowl of soup.
A pair of eyes looks over the top of the long menu. “Any idea what you’re going
to get?”
“No, not really.”
“Oh! Well let me help.” He’s going down the list of entrées. “How about
the Bayou Chicken Breast? That looks pretty safe.”
“Safe?” This word makes me close the menu and stare across the table at my husband.
“What do you mean safe?”
His mouth opens a little. “Well I mean you know it won’t make you sick or…anything.”
Oh I see what he’s saying…I reach out and take his hand.
“I know you care and I’m glad but I still have a little ways to go before the
things I eat or drink go directly to the baby.”
Mac gives my hand a squeeze. “So what are you going to get?”
“Probably the Bayou Chicken, what about you?”
He looks down at the menu. “I think I’ll have the Voodoo Jambalaya.”
The name of the dish gets me snickering. “Voodoo Jambalaya? Someone in the mood
for something hot and spicy?”
“No, already had it.” He closes his menu, giving me a small grin as the waitress
shows up with glasses of water and to take our orders.
“So what did you do while I was gone?” Mac sticks his fork in his Jambalaya,
offering me a bite.
“Oh, just relaxed. Worked in my garden on Wednesday and Thursday; today I took
some photos of the flowers.” I lean forward and take the bite he offered, he’s
right it’s not spicy at all in fact it’s great. It’s got lots of shrimp and
tomatoes. . . oh it’s heavenly!
“Good, maybe I should have ordered that.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin as I
cut another piece out of my chicken. “Want some?”
“That’s my wife, Mother Nature.”
I know he’s teasing me; he always does about my garden. I don’t mind he’s never
mean about it, under all those gentle ribbings he’s proud of me for my determination
and hard work.
Mac takes my fork and has a bite, watching his lips slide down the prongs is
enough to make me shiver. “So you have some photos for me to develop?” I can
see his eyes twinkle; he knows exactly what that did to me as he casually hands
my fork back.
“Yeah, about a dozen, I would have done it myself but I didn’t want to mess
around with the chemicals and I figured you wouldn’t want me to anyway.”
“Good call, I wouldn’t.” A basket of rolls sits between us and he takes one
and cuts it open. “The fumes and all that probably wouldn’t be good for you.”
“No, probably not.” I have a sip of my water and set the glass down. “Oh! And
something else happened while you were gone.”
“What?”
“The microwave quit working. I tried to warm something up last night and it
just stopped.”
Mac leans back in his chair, wiping his hands down his face. “Not again, what
is it with that thing? I’ve already fixed it twice.”
“We could just get a new one you know. Wouldn’t it be easier instead of having
to fix it all the time?” I take the other roll out of the basket and put butter
on it.
“No it’s just some wiring that’s loose; it’s not a big deal to fix.” He straightens
back up and sighs. “It’s just stubborn that’s all.”
“Uh huh stubborn, that’s exactly what I was thinking too but not about the microwave.”
He narrows his eyes at me and shakes his head. “Oh very funny.”
I can’t help but grin at his attempt to look all fierce and threatening.
“Fine, if you want to play with the microwave by all means Dear, be my guest.”
He finishes his dinner and pushes his plate forward. “I’m not going to play
with it; I’m going to fix it.”
“It just bugs you to death to not fix it yourself, doesn’t it?” I’m done with
my dinner too and set my silverware on the plate.
Mac picks up his ice tea and sips it. “I wouldn’t say that exactly.”
“Then let’s just get a new microwave.” I’m looking into his face and it cringes
as he sets his glass back down.
“No, I’ll fix it.”
“Aha! See! You can’t just let it go and get a new one.”
He tilts his head and looks at me. “All right, okay so maybe I like the challenge.”
“The challenge?”
Mac’s moving his hands around, like he’s explaining some great scientific principle
to me. “Sure! Man versus machine, the eternal struggle.”
“The eternal struggle?” I reach out and touch his arm. “Honey it’s a microwave
not a bomb.”
He just shrugs his shoulders and grins at me. “Well no, but there’s something
satisfying about fixing it yourself and not having to shell out a 100 bucks
for a new one.”
“Satisfying huh? Are you sure you’re just not being cheap?”
“No I’m not just being cheap!” Mac gives me that sideways glance of his that
tells me that I might be in trouble when we’re no longer in public. “I’ll fix
it first thing in the morning.”
The waitress shows back up to take our plates away and hands us the dessert
menu. My husband opens the teal green menu and his eyebrows go up. “Whoa! Talk
about a sugar factory! I bet you one of these things has a thousand calories.”
He’s right of course; the desserts do look rather decadent. They have one called
Chocolate Death that’s a chocolate pie with a dark chocolate crust, ice cream
and syrup. Yikes! I love chocolate as much as the next woman but that much would
kill me.
“How about we split a piece of cheesecake with cherry sauce?”
“Yeah that sounds safe.” Mac closed the menu and set it aside, reaching out
to take my hand. “We get a free movie rental too right? So what do you want
to get?”
“How about a nice science fiction movie?” I love the feel of his hand as it
slides around mine, it’s so warm and comforting and I can’t help but close my
eyes at the instant feeling of safety that floods my system.
My husband wrinkles his nose at me. “Science fiction? You want to see something
involving aliens coming to this planet in big flying saucers?”
“Well no not necessarily, they’re other sci-fi movies other than that you know.”
“Like that one with the big circle thing that sends people to other planets.
I mean how silly was that one?”
“Hey I liked that one, it was neat.”
“You think anything involving Egypt and archaeology is neat.”
The waitress comes back with our cheesecake, setting it between us with two
forks. I snag one of them and cut into the cheesecake.
“Hey you like anything involving the Old West.”
Mac sighs in defeat; he knows he can’t argue with that one. “Oh all right we’ll
get something science fiction. But nothing involving aliens in your chest, deal?”
My fork, with another bite of cheesecake, moves in a circle close to Mac’s face
and he opens his mouth and I gently slip the fork into it. “Deal.”
We arrive at Movie Times, this wonderful little video store that’s all lit
up like a Christmas tree with more neon signs than Las Vegas. The walls are
nothing but video tapes and huge posters advertising the newest theater releases
and the biggest hits now available to rent. The first thing I notice as we step
through the glass doors is the heavy aroma of fresh movie style popcorn that’s
for sale by the bucket. Popcorn would be good but we just ate dinner so I’ll
pass. The videos are broken down into groups of white shelves that are in rows
that start from one end of the store to the other.
Mac and I head straight for the sci-fi section. The employees are all dressed
in white shirts, bright red bow ties and matching vests and as we pass a group
of them rearranging tapes I notice that not only are they all women, but they
seem to be following my husband like he’s got a spotlight on him.
Now, I know my husband is a handsome man. Let’s not split hairs here, the man
is downright gorgeous and one of the sweet things about him is that he’s totally
unaware of it. And sure enough, he’s too busy casually picking up video cases
and looking at them to notice that the gawks of 5 women are burning a hole right
through the back of his black leather jacket. Now I’m trying not to get jealous
here but it’s not easy. But that’s part of the burden of marrying a man that’s
very very easy on the eyes…every woman with a pulse notices too. The best I
can do is stand beside him and take his arm.
“Find anything Gill?”
He crouches down search through the lower shelves and I hear a chorus of sharp
breath intakes from across the video store. Oh man…why did he have to do that?
Still he’s trying to find a decent movie for us to watch. I’ve got two options
here, one is to stand in front of my husband’s bent butt and undoubtedly shatter
the fantasies of a gang of women, or I can grab the first movie I find and straighten
him up before he gets propositioned. I’m afraid I have to go with both here,
shattered fantasies or not that bent butt belongs to me. I quickly side step
behind him and scan the top row of videos, picking up one that looks interesting.
It’s The Abyss and I lower my hand and wave the case near his head.
“How about this one? It’s by James Cameron.”
“Oh yeah? He did both Terminator movies right?” Mac takes the case from me and
pops back up like toast. Thank God!
“Yeah, so it should be a good movie.”
He reads the description on the back and nods. “All right, we’ll take it.”
I slip my hand around his arm as we walk to the counter and the little gang
of women all seem to have finally gotten the message that this man is definitely
taken and definitely mine. Mac hands the petite dark haired woman the coupon
for the rental and she puts in the register and slips our movie into a bag.
“You have a good evening now.”
“Thanks, you too.” Mac gives her a nice smile as he takes the bag from her.
Five pairs of eyes are still on us and as he holds the door open for me, a full
blown grin on my face as I step through it.
Gillian and I are walking through the sliding automatic doors of Handy’s Hardware
Haven and a blast of cool air and fresh wood hits both of us. I love that smell,
its sort of like being in the woods if only for a second or two. Lately I’ve
been here more often then the foundation thanks to a certain microwave oven,
my wife’s garden and various other repairs that come with taking care of a house.
I reach down and take my wife’s hand, I know it seems silly to be coming to
a hardware store at almost 9 o’clock at night but I don’t want to do it in the
morning. I’ll be too busy battling with that microwave. I swear that thing has
a mind of its own.
This store is small, and most of the people here know me by sight. I think I’m
not only keeping this place in business, but also sending a few of Handy’s grandkids
through college.
Gillian likes it here; she just loves to find new and creative ways for me to
improve our house. I’m just waiting for the day she wants me to retile the kitchen
or reshingle the roof. Not that I mind, I love to do that sort of thing and
if it makes her happy than it’s definitely worth it. She takes my arm and points
to the kitchen section. Uh oh, I see a new faucet and kitchen sink in my not
so distant future.
“How about we go look at kitchen fixtures?”
Can I call them or what? She flutters those eyelashes at me, knowing I can’t
resist them.
“All right, let’s go look at the sinks.” She grabs my hand and hauls me over
to it.
I’ve got to hand it to Handy; he’s got a great selection of sinks and faucets.
The display is huge and my wife is pointing to ones she likes.
“How about that one?” It’s a nice big double steel sink with a pair of clear
handles and a sink spray. Not bad, the price isn’t either.
“Yeah that’s a nice one; the spray would come in handy.”
“Is there something I can help you with?”
A voice is behind me and I turn around to see a young guy with black hair, jeans
and a bright orange apron that bears the name DEREK in marker.
“Yeah I need some components for a microwave.”
“Sure, that’ll be in the electrical aisle. It’s on the far side of the store
in aisle number 3.”
“Thanks.”
I walk down the aisle to talk to my wife; she’s standing on her toes, trying
to see something over her head.
“Problem?”
“Yeah, I’m a shrimp!” She points to a nice faucet with a long looping neck that’s
about a foot above her. “I can’t see how much that one is.”
“79.95.”
Gillian wrinkles that button nose of hers. “Never mind, that’s a lot more than
I thought it would be.”
“I have to go to the electrical aisle.”
“Okay, go ahead. I’m just going to wander around and look at stuff.” She reaches
out and runs her hands up my jacket. “Maybe I’ll find some more seeds for my
flower bed.”
“Maybe you will Mother Nature.” I plant a kiss on her forehead as she slings
her purse over her shoulder and heads up the aisle.
I turn around and head for aisle number three.
I’m in the electrical aisle looking at wires and circuits when something out
of the corner of my eye gets my attention. It’s Derek and it looks like he’s
got a friend with him. He’s about the same height and build but he’s facing
away from me and I can’t see what his name is. The two of them are sitting on
the rungs of one of those big rollaway ladders and they’re watching something
with endless fascination.
I really don’t pay them much mind and get back to my components.
After walking the length of that aisle at least twice, I finally find what I
need for the microwave. It’s been at least 15 minutes and it seems Derek and
his twin has disappeared. Whatever they found so interesting must be over with
and they’re back to work.
Now it’s time to find my wife, she said she wanted more seeds for her garden
so maybe that department would be a good place to start. I’m walking down the
center aisle, trying to find her.
I see Derek and his twin walking towards me. They’re checking the aisles too
and I stop in mid stride when I see Gillian come out from the far end of the
store. She’s looking at the displays of china buffets and the Doublemint twins
have literally turned around and directed their full attention at her.
I don’t believe what I’m seeing. They’re whispering to each other and watching
her so closely I bet they know how much change is in her wallet. I can’t say
I blame them; Gillian is after all a very beautiful woman. She’s got that sweet
smile, that flaming hair that makes her pretty noticeable and those gorgeous
legs. And I think that’s were their eyes have wandered to. Don’t these kids
have a stock room to sweep or something?
Gillian can’t see what they’re doing; they’ve conveniently ducked behind a display
of bug spray. But I can see them and frankly I’ve seen enough, I’m not about
to let this pair of Creamsicles gawk at my wife.
“Gillian!” I wave at her and she waves back, meeting me halfway up the center
aisle.
“There you are, I was looking for you.” There’s that smile I mentioned and its
all for me.
I pull her into a hug, a nice tight one that clearly stakes my claim. And just
to make it more interesting I take her face in my hands and give her a nice
big kiss. She looks at me, a little surprised expression on her face.
“What was that for?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Oh no reason, do I need one to kiss you?”
“Well no but normally you don’t in public.”
I glance over my shoulder and Heckle and Jeckle are gone. Good.
“Did you find what you needed for the microwave?”
I give her another kiss and stroke her face. “Yeah, come on what do you say
we go home now?”
“Sounds good, I want to curl up in bed and watch the movie.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
Gillian takes my hand but that’s not enough, I put my arm across her shoulders
and gently pull her into my chest as we walk towards the front of the store.
Watching my wife get ready for bed is one of the secret joys of being a husband.
I can shimmy out of my clothes in about three seconds but not my wife; she’s
got a very specific routine. Must be a woman thing; my only routine is get naked,
get on pajamas, brush teeth and sleep. Well…maybe not go to sleep right away,
there might be some horizontal time if I subtly hint to Gillian that I’m interested.
Subtly hint means anything short of a neon sign; Gill’s a quick one so I’ve
never had to go that far.
Gillian comes out of the bathroom, she just brushed her teeth. She’s got on
this little short set, a purple tank top with these little tiny shorts. She
really is stunning, how did I ever end up with her? That’s one question I’ll
ask everyday until they lay me in the ground. But anyway, she picks up her brush
and takes the clip out of her hair letting those gorgeous red locks roll down
her back. Oh man…it just got warm in here and I can’t just sit here on the bed
any longer.
Gillian is standing in front of my dresser mirror about to brush her hair and
I come up behind her and gently take the brush from her.
“Mind if I do that?”
She turns and raises both eyebrows at me. “You want to brush my hair?”
“Sure.” I touch her shoulders, sit her down on the edge of the bed and kneel
behind her. Her hair is so long now, I remember when we first met it barely
came to her shoulders and now almost three years later it’s to the small of
her back.
I hold her big silver brush in my hands and begin, pulling it through that mane
of hair; my fingers running through the soft, fragrant strands as I go. Gillian
sighs, tilting her head back.
“That’s so relaxing Mac, you’re going to put me to sleep.”
It may be relaxing her but its doing other things to me. I brush aside that
dark red curtain and nuzzle her neck, pressing my bare chest against her back.
“Then I better stop because sleep is the last thing on my mind right now.”
“Oh? Is it now?”
Uh oh…I recognize that tone. It’s that seemingly innocent tone that’s anything
but. Gillian turns around and plucks the brush from my hands. Those chestnut
eyes of hers are all sparkling with mischief and wickedness.
“Your turn.”
“My turn? You want to brush my hair?”
“Sure. Fair is fair, you did it for me so I want to do it for you.” She crawls
around me and leans against the headboard, opening her legs. “Come on, lie back
and let me brush your hair. You’re way too tall for me to kneel behind you.”
She’s definitely up to something and there’s only one way to find out. I do
as she asks and prop myself up on my elbows, leaning back against her chest.
Her legs are on either side of me.
“Okay, go for it.”
Gillian plants a kiss on my cheek as she scoots back. “Just have to move away
a little so I can get to your whole head.”
“Okay.” I sigh, we’re missing out on some serious horizontal time but she wants
to do this so what’s the harm in letting her? The night is young after all.
Ohhh this is nice. Those big bristles are going through my hair at such a gentle
pace, I can see now why Gillian said she felt sleepy. But sleepy isn’t exactly
what I’m feeling, those little fingers of hers are running through my hair and
down my neck and shoulders.
“Well what do you think? You like it?” She whispers in my ear, nuzzling it a
little.
“Yeah.” That’s a nice generic answer without out one tiny clue that she’s getting
to me and fast.
“Oh good.” Gillian shifts a little behind me and whoa! She’s just brushed her
legs against my ribs and wrapped those gams around my chest. God they’re so
nice and warm, so silky soft and smooth as they gently slide down my chest and
stomach. The brush is back in my hair, pulling it away from my face, then the
sides and the back; each section of my head lovingly yet thoroughly brushed.
I can’t help but groan at the double sensation of those nudging legs and that
stroking brush.
“Is there a problem Sweetie?” Gillian’s stopped brushing and is softly saying
this right in my ear. “Am I getting you all hot and bothered?”
Her legs have me pinned as her toes head straight for my crotch, making me jerk.
“There’s going to be a problem in about 30 seconds if your toes don’t find a
new place to burrow.”
I’m whimpering now, oh that wicked wicked woman.
“Did that whimper mean yes?” She drags her tongue up the side of my neck and
that crumbles the last of my control. I move my elbows and end up flat on my
back but that’s okay, it lets me grab those legs and start doing some rubbing
of my own. I sit up and roll over as I launch myself at her and start kissing
her so hard and fast that her hair brush drops from her hand and falls to the
floor.
Now who’s the one whimpering? Sounds like my wife to me. Sure enough those cocoa
eyes are wide and stunned as they look up at me.
“I take it I might have gone a little too far?” She’s breathing hard rubbing
her body against mine, making me shudder.
“Oh just a tad.”
I kiss her hard again, my hands roaming down her body to the waist band of those
little shorts and my fingers can’t get her out of them fast enough…
The smell of bacon rouses me from sleep and I open my eyes to see that I’m
the only occupant of our bed. I yawn and stretch lazily having finally gotten
a decent night’s rest. Pete’s a good friend, more like a brother but he’s not
the easiest roommate I’ve ever had. I kick the covers off, freeing my legs as
I get out of bed and pull a pair of red shorts and a grey tank top out of my
dresser. The door is closed, which means Gillian didn’t want to disturb me while
she puttered around the house. Not that she’s all that noisy but I guess she
figured I needed the extra sleep.
I can hear sizzling as I come down the hall to the kitchen doorway. Gillian
is standing at the stove cooking turkey bacon; she’s got on a white red flowered
tank top and red shorts. She’s humming as she snags a piece of bacon and flips
her braid over her shoulder.
“I know you’re there Mac.”
Damn, so much for being sneaky.
Gillian turns around and looks at me, her eyebrow raised. “I knew you were coming
the minute I heard the bedroom door creak open. How do you want your eggs?”
She takes a pink carton of eggs out and sets it on the counter.
“Scrambled please.” I reach around her and swipe a piece of bacon from the plate
with a paper towel on it.
“Sleep good?” Gillian takes four eggs out and returns the carton to the fridge.
“Yeah actually I did.” I get a couple of glasses out of the cabinet and fill
them with orange pineapple juice, handing one of the little glasses to my wife.
“Oh good.” Gillian takes the juice I offer and sips it as she clears the bacon
out of the skillet and cracks my eggs into them. “Going to fix the microwave
after breakfast?”
“No, after I develop your photos.”
“Okay, that’ll give me a chance to water my flowers and maybe pack a little
more potting soil around them.” She scoops my eggs out of the skillet and onto
a plate that she piles up with bacon and toast before handing it to me.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks, how are you feeling this morning?” I put my plate down on the table
and then take hers, setting it beside mine.
“Good, I was reading in my book this morning and it said I should start showing
soon.” Gillian looks down at her flat stomach and runs her hand over it. “I
guess I better get some clothes with an elastic waist band huh?”
“Yeah, but I doubt you’ll need any for a while.” A smile is spreading across
my face as I sit down, imaging my wife with a little belly. “That book also
says that all the organs are formed by now, just not working yet.”
My wife just grins and shakes her toast at me in a threatening manner. “Don’t
skip ahead; I want to see how it ends.”
“Don’t worry I won’t spoil it for you.” Something’s missing from the table and
my wife gets up and takes a small bottle of Tabasco sauce out of the cabinet
and sets it down in front of me.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
She’s watching me add a few dashes of orange to my eggs and shakes her head.
“That stuff’s going to eat a hole in your stomach you know.”
“Oh no it won’t.” I offer her the bottle and she puts her hand up.
“No that’s okay, I want to live.” That little button nose of her wrinkles as
she eat more of her toast. “My husband and his cast iron stomach.”
The cap gets put back on and I just grin at her as I make a big production of
eating my orange eggs just to watch her squirm. Such a loving husband, am I
not?
Right now I’m in the arms of my nemesis, the tall blond man with the garage
and fancy wooden work bench. This isn’t the first time he and I have gone into
this little dank room and if I have my way it won’t be the last. He just doesn’t
give up! He sits me down, turns me around and begins to take out my screws.
We’ve been through this routine before; this is the third time he’s carried
me in here.
With my back panel off he begins to poke and prod around trying to figure out
exactly why it is I stopped working. The answer is clear but I’m not about to
tell him that. He starts opening the drawers right below me and pulls out the
same thing he did last time; some wires, circuits and tools.
“All right, let’s get down to business here.”
The blond man whispers as he turns me face down on top of my door. I can’t say
I’m fond of him; he just loves to take me apart and put me back together again.
The one I am fond of is the red haired woman. She’s nice, wipes me down if I
get dirty and she takes out my glass plate at least once a week. She’s very
careful not to chip it as she washes it and gently puts it back in place. She
respects me and takes care of me, I like that.
The blond man is taking out my guts, a serious expression on his face. I had
no idea my not working bothered him so, but apparently it does. He’s studying
my wiring closely now, I think he’s found the problem. Damn. Oh well there’s
always next time.
He’s plugging in a sodering gun, setting it down on the bench beside me. I guess
he’s going to make sure my wire won’t come out for a fourth time but I’m optimistic.
After all things do happen and sometimes sodered wires still slip out, especially
when my door is slammed; a certain blond man just loves to do that.
Uh oh… this is interesting. Seems that the blond man hasn’t fixed my wire right.
In fact he’s gotten it confused with another one that’s the same color. He’s
not going to like what happens when it plugs me back in.
“That should do it.” The blond man has a smile on his face, he looks pretty
proud of himself. I’ll give him credit; he really seems to have a knack for
fixing things. But not this time, this time it’s going to be a lot different…
Mac whistled as he picked up the black electric cord and moved the little white
microwave back; where it sat it couldn’t reach the electrical outlet. The garage
door suddenly slammed and it made him jump, he wasn’t expecting it and the loud
noise made his heart race.
“Gillian?”
“Yeah! I just went out and watered my flowers. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah the air just made the door slam. I had it propped open but don’t worry
about it I have to fix that knob anyway. Now is as good a time as any.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay.”
Mac shook his head as he plugged the microwave in and bent over a little, looking
into the digital display.
“Okay, let’s see here.”
He pressed the COOK TIME button and punched in 10 seconds and hit the START
button.
A sizzling sound rang out and with it came a hiss of smoke. MacGyver’s eyes
grew wide and he reached out towards the power cord wanting to pull it out of
the wall. The next sound that came from the back of the microwave was a zapping;
the smoke grew thicker as Mac yanked the cord out of the wall. The back panel
shot out as the microwave exploded, bursting into flames.
“Oh man!”
Mac looked around, spotting the fire extinguisher hanging from the wall and
he grabbed it, pulling the pin. His hand went down around the silver levers
and squeezed them as he aimed the hose at the fire. The levers wouldn’t move
and only a slight hissing came out of the hose.
“What the…?”
He brought his palm down several times on the levers in an effort to unstick
them but they refused to move. The extinguisher fell to the floor and Mac next
opened the dryer hoping for towels or sheets to battle the fire with but the
white dryer was empty.
MacGyver swallowed hard as he watched his work bench start to burn. He ran over
to the door and began pounding on it with both fits as smoke started to fill
the room.
“Gillian!”
He tried the door knob, but it wouldn’t budge, that was the next thing he had
to fix after the microwave.
“Gillian!” Mac gave the door a good kick hoping to get the attention of his
wife.
Gillian came out of her closet, a few hangers in her hand. The strong smell
of burning wood and smoke got her attention and she immediately dropped the
clothes she had started putting away and ran down the hall.
“Mac?”
A few ribbons of smoke curled out from underneath the door and it made the young
woman’s eyes go wide.
“Oh my God!” She grabbed the knob and tried to turn it. “Mac!”
“The door’s stuck and the microwave blew up! Get me out of here!”
Her husband’s words through the door set her heart racing as she immediately
started looking around. She knew the fire would be electrical but the extinguisher
in her kitchen wouldn’t put it out. The young woman thought of something and
raced out the back door to the porch, returning with a bag of potting soil mixed
with sand that she had just used in her garden.
“Mac I’m here! Give me a second to get the door open!”
Setting the bag down and gripping the knob again, she turned sideways putting
her shoulder against it a little, determining whether or not she could break
it down. I don’t have the strength… Gillian thought to herself as she spotted
the hall closet and an idea flashed in her mind.
“Mac! Get away from the door! Do you hear me? Move back from the door!”
She flung back the closet door and spotted a purple vinyl bag with a black shoulder
strap and two handles. The bag contained her bowling ball and she grabbed it
hoping her twelve pound ball would have enough force to break the door down.
Gillian stood sideways and gripped the handles firmly in both hands. She turned
away from the door and swung the bag as hard as she could at the door knob area.
The wood creaked but still remained closed.
She did it again this time leaning into, adding her weight to the impact. The
wooden door splintered and swung open and she dropped the bag and picked up
the potting soil. Thick white smoke and the odor of burning wood greeted her
as she went into the room.
“Mac!”
“Yeah, I’m here.” He stood beside his truck, wide eyed at her entrance.
“Get out of here, I’ll put it out.”
The blond man said nothing; he slipped out the door coughing as he stood in
the hall watching her.
Gillian spotted the burning microwave and dumped the contents of her bag on
it. The sand and soil smothered out the fire and also put out the burning work
bench as the combination spilled onto the floor. She dropped the now empty bag,
her heart racing within her chest as she looked at the blackened, melted microwave.
“Got it?” MacGyver poked his head in and stepped into the garage.
“Yeah.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she turned to face him.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.” He picked up the fire extinguisher and showed it to her.
“This thing jammed.”
“And the door knob broke.” Gillian shook her head. “Exploding microwave, jammed
extinguisher and broken door knob. You really had luck on your side today.”
“Actually I did have luck on my side today.” Mac set the extinguisher down and
hugged Gillian.
“I had my fast thinking wife on my side.”
Gillian closed her eyes and returned it, leaning her head against his chest.
“You’ve come to my rescue who knows how many times; it’s nice to return the
favor.” She pulled back and gave him a kiss, a smile coming to her lips. “Now
can we get a new microwave?”
MacGyver tilted his head sideways as he looked at her. “Well considering ours
just turned into a fireball...” He let go of her and walked over to it, brushing
off the sand and potting soil from the bench.
“I guess I got my wires mixed up.”
“It happens.” Gillian put her hands on her hips as she stood beside him.
“So what are we going to do with this thing now?” Mac looked at the partially
melted door and the back panel that had popped off.
“Oh I’ve got an idea or two.” A smile bloomed on the young woman’s face.
“What idea?”
“Well it’s a good size and deep, I can use it for a planter.”
Both of MacGyver’s eyebrows went up. “A planter?”
“Sure, think of it as recycling.”
Gillian fluttered her eyelashes at her husband as she wrapped her arms around
his waist. “What do you think?”
“It’s possible; we just have to clean it up and take the door off.” He put his
hands on her shoulders. “I know one thing for sure.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll never tease you about your garden ever again.” Mac touched his forehead
to hers. “Or call you Mother Nature.”
A smile came to Gillian’s face as she kissed her husband and poked him playfully
in the stomach.
“I’m just glad I remembered my bag.”
He moved back and sighed. “Believe me so am I.” He looked down at his shirt.
“Do I smell like a smokehouse?”
“A little.”
“I’ll change after I clean up this mess.”
Gillian shook her head. “No go ahead, I’ll get the broom and clean it up.”
“I’ll do it.” A smile came to her husband’s lips. “You’ve done enough.” He gave
her a pat on her behind. “I have to fix that door, fix the extinguisher and
make your planter.”
“Okay, but do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Just don’t set my planter on fire, okay?”
Mac’s mouth dropped open and he narrowed his eyes at his wife. “Oh you are so
going to get it!”
Gillian started laughing and quickly ran out of the room before her husband
could grab her.