Come June [ h.s. ]

15

15
.

A loud clanking noise sounded as two glasses, heavy with beer, were lowered in front of Harry and Eileen. They sat in a secluded booth towards the back of the pub, shoulders melting into the soft, worn leather. It was around 7:00 pm.

It was rather warm inside and her red sweater was tied carelessly around her waist. She wore a pretty black blouse with long sleeves and a lace trim, tucked neatly into her skirt; it was strange to see her in such a dark ensemble. He thought she looked older this way — edgier, and more serious.

Her eyes flicked over to him and she grinned. They really didn't know much about each other, but something about tonight felt warm and safe. She found comfort in his strong frame beside her; his nose crinkled when he studied the space around him. They shared just a glance before she opened her mouth to speak.

"Thanks for coming along. And for visiting me at work."

"Of course," he nodded. "It's no big deal. I was just in the neighborhood."

Eileen grinned smugly.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Nothing."

There was music playing from above, though Harry couldn't quite recognize the tune. It sounded like something slow and sappy. He didn't much care for that kind of music.

"So, what's your dog's name?"

"Sam."

"Sam," she repeated. Her eyes were alight with warmth as she studied Harry's face.

"I'm a little scared, Eileen," he said. "I've never had a pet. Not one that I took care of all by myself."

"You'll learn how." He gave her a doubtful look. "I'm serious! Do you want to know how I found Hickory? He was skin and bones, lying near a drain pipe all caked in mud. I picked him up without thinking and raced him home. I didn't know what I was doing either, but in the moment it didn't matter. I already knew how much I loved him. I wouldn't do him any wrong."

Eileen wouldn't do anyone any wrong.

"You're a good mom," said Harry. He hadn't been thinking when he spoke, and smiled down into his lap. "He sure does love you."

"You were only inside my place that day when we unloaded my groceries. Right?"

"Right."

He forgot that she didn't know anything about the night he'd watched her reading through the window. Hickory had been curled tightly against her as if she were his only lifeline. Even now, secure in the dimly lit booth, he could still visualize the way his tail flicked around Eileen's wrist.

"Where did you learn to make rum cake?" He blurted it out like an awkward ice breaker on a first date. "I mean, it was really good. I feel like I could eat an entire rum cake right now, if I had one."

"My grandmother taught me. I can give you the recipe," she said. "Or if you'd like, I can just make one for you and drop it off."

"Probably best to do that," he nodded. "I would mess it up somehow."

"Why do you do that?"