The Engagement

7.Be Our Guest

I don't teach on Sundays so I have no reason to get out of bed before noon. My body, accustomed to getting up regularly, still wakes me up at 8 am. But just because I'm awake doesn't mean I have to get up. So I'm still in bed when I hear something hit my window. At first I think it's a big bug so I really don't want to open the blinds and look. Another noise comes at the window and then another. The sounds occur regularly enough that I realize it must be a person doing it.

It must be Charles, that's what I think. I sit up abruptly, get a head rush, run to the window, and excitedly pull open the blinds. My excitement disperses as I see not my Charles but the time traveler standing under my window.

I don't want to go out there. Of all the people named Charles Milburn, the time traveler is my least favorite. But more than not wanting to go down there, I can't let my parents see the old man. The have met my Charles. They met his father and his brother. If they see someone who looks exactly like Charles but a little older, who knows what they will think. The thought of it sends a shiver down my spine.

I rush out of my bedroom but freeze when I hit the top of the stairs. I don't want to draw attention to myself as I go outside. In my head, I see my self tiptoeing silently down the steps. But this house is old and old things creek. I swear it sounds like the stairs are yelling out in pain as I step on them.

"Fi Fi! Come to the table! You dad is making waffles." Mom yells. I can tell she thinks I'm still upstairs because she's standing next to the stairwell as she yells.

"I'm not hungry." I say as relaxed as I can. My mother still shrieks though.

"Why would you sneak up on me like that?" She asks angrily.

"I didn't sneak. I was walking down the stairs as usual."

"Well make more noise when you walk." She says, crossing her arms. She is wearing an apron that says "I kISSED THE COOK AND I LIKED IT". I have so many questions about the apron but no time to ask them.

"I'm going for a run." I lie. It's good that I sleep in shorts and a tank top so at least I look dressed for the occasion.

Walking around to the back of the house, I keep looking back to make sure neither of my parents followed me. The old man is still standing under my window when I get there.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I need to talk to you." He says. Seeing him in front of me again triggers an idea.

"You have my phone number right? We are married after all." I say.

"Yes. I have it."

"Then why don't you ever call me instead of showing up randomly like this?"

"You hate phone calls."

"You could text."

"I'm bad at texting." He looks down as if he wishes we were talking about something else.

I take a step toward him and he takes a surprised step back. I cock my head to the left and stare him down.

"Or maybe a woman you love once told you that she likes your face so you visit her instead of using a phone. I told my Charles that last night." I say with a smile.

"Did you kiss him last night as well?" He asks with fear showing in his eyes.

"Yes. But how did you know? Did you follow us last night? I thought I saw someone outside my house!" I stop talking when I notice the old man isn't paying attention.

"It happened the same way." He says softly.

"Of course. He and I are living the same life you did." I say. He turns on me abruptly and takes my hands tightly in his.