Substance

Chpt. 3 Sweets for the sweet

***Co-author’s note: I have no idea if the dessert mentioned below exists, but if it did, I’d surely ask for doubles. ***

With her legs tucked beneath her, she sat in her bed, in her pj’s, reading glasses, and her hair up in a bun, reading the messages that Courtland sent the last night. He had asked her on a date. She was flattered in a way. She had been out with only a couple of men that made her blush and giggle like a teenager. He was a funny, sweet, charming man, the type of guy she longed to have in her life. Yet there was the one thing about him that she secretly wished she could change. It was selfish of her to think that way but she couldn’t help it. She was used to men being physically all there, mentally not so much, but physically she had come to expect that the men she went out with would have all their appendages in functioning order. She thought that maybe it was an even trade off. So far of all the men she had dated and had had relationships with, not one had been physically handicapped and yet they all had some flaw that ended the relationship. Now with Courtland maybe trading in the physical aspect of it would provide the right mix of other qualities she wanted. She had always believed that what some lacked in one area, they made up for in others.

Yet, when he raised the question, she couldn’t out right give him an answer at the time. In order to get off the subject she had said that she needed to go answer her door and had fled from the chat. Left and right he made her react to him in ways she never had with any other man and it made her excited because it was something new. Then again, it all made her afraid of what might happen if they went on the date. She was used to the stares because of her looks but she didn’t know what she would make of anyone staring at her while out with Courtland. She hadn’t given him an answer and was sure that she had hurt his feelings in some way, yet she didn’t want him to feel as though she was just going out with him on a pity date. She wouldn’t dare try it, Courtland deserved more than that. An hour later she signed into the e-mail account and sent him a reply then finally turned in for the night.

 “When’s the date?” The message read. She wanted to go out on a date with him and he would more than oblige.

“Alright Courtland, is there anything else you need me to do before I leave?” His aid, Ms. Delia, asked.

“No Ms. Delia, thank you.”

The woman at least a handful of years younger than his own mother grabbed her purse from the sofa, noticing that Courtland was engrossed in whatever he was doing on his computer. “What’s got you cheesing like that giant Chuck E. Cheese rat?” She asked innocently.  

The woman with her boxed blonde hair and brown eyes had been under Courtland’s employ since he had moved out on his own. She was his aid for shopping trips and his occasional maid at times as well as an excellent cook. Still she acted like all of a second mother for him. Good for his worrying mother. Often times bad for him. She was a woman well set into her ways and only spoke long enough to say what she had to say.

“Oh I was just reading a message from a friend,” Courtland replied. Delia wasn’t a fool and didn’t miss much, he knew she’d already drawn some sort of conclusion from the start or else she wouldn’t have spoken.

She harrumphed softly, which was Delia’s way of acknowledging his response. It was her way of tempting more information from him, a move he’d coined as Delia’s CIA Agent training. She swore she had never worked for them but then again she did have the uncanny ability to know all and see all, and of course what CIA agent didn’t get some training in how to lie and deceive.

“She really is just a friend.”

“She? You say that as if you are trying to convince someone. Now the question is who?” Delia said before she gathered her purse and keys then left the house.