Leaving Madeleine - Part 15

MY EYES OPENED and it was morning. I was still in Brigitte's bed and I was still naked. As was she. If she was awake she was hiding it well. Despite my predicament I held no inclination of rushing out. I fetched my jeans from the floor and put them on. Grabbed my underwear, folded it tightly and shoved it in my back pocket. Brigitte's voice startled me.

"Why are you putting Calvin in your pocket?"

"They're dirty," I responded. Somehow this answer was satisfactory.

"Want breakfast?" she asked.

"Where?"

"Here. I can make pancakes or ham and eggs."

Evidently she was in no hurry to get rid of me either. I was glad.

"Pancakes sound grand."

"Grand," she repeated. "What are you, from the nineteen-thirties?"

"Yes, " I replied.

To this she said nothing, but pulled the covers away without shame, her tight, unblemished skin and tiny breasts welcoming the sunlight.

"Mind if I shower first?"

"Not at all."

"Want to join me?"

"Would that be okay?"

She smiled coyly and sashayed toward the bathroom.

We showered together and made love a second time. I had no toiletries so I used hers. Better to smell like Arid Extra Dry for women than male body odor I figured. I still of course had only my dirty clothes, but Brigitte insisted that I put my socks and underwear in a plastic bag instead of my back pocket. I agreed.

She made pancakes and we watched Kids Return. It was as good as I remembered it. I had twenty-three missed calls, four voicemails, and eighteen text messages. If there is one thing moral to be said about modern technology, it certainly makes deceit an extremely difficult undertaking.

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