I have been drinking my tea chilled lately. (Summer and all.) I take a pitcher out of the fridge and fill a 64oz mug. It's hot in SoCal. And I'm sunburned. My knees are red and scabbed. My face is on fire and my eyes are puffy. Yesterday I went to the beach and was riding waves on the body board for hours. I came within inches of creaming a toddler on two occasions as I rode up on shore. The same kid. Instead of just stearing the board by leaning left or right, however, I panicked (both times) and slid off the back of the board, using my knees to skid to a stop in front of the little girl with the blond curls. She was so tiny I thought I might break her, so I sacrificed my knees. The second time this happened, she looked down at me, stuck out her tongue, and ran off to her mother who was snearing at me from under an umbrella further up the beach. If it weren't for the thrill of salt water mixing into my wounds and sending rivulets of blood down to my ankles, I might have cared. I sighed. Time to hang up the board for the day. It's bad enough to be riding in the water on top of a device that is shaped approximately like a harbor seal, but to mix blood in with that might be less than wise.
Anyway, I am now paying for my day of fun and sun on the beach. LHM walks into the kitchen and stops at the entrance. He's about to leave for work.
I smile at him, peck him on the cheek and say, "Too late now. You already married me." I pat him on the shoulder and hobble back toward the bedroom before saying under my breath, "Sucker."
I hear him yell from the other room some smart aleck comment about false advertising before he slams the back door.
I lay there in silence. Nothing to do. I am on my "honeymoon" and won't be back home for a month. I consider the events of the past month or two. I no longer work for the PI firm. They decided to bring all of the regional positions in-house...to Boston. Since I wouldn't be able to relocate, I decided that Hell, Inc. sucked anyway and I was better off sticking with one job, my death investigator gig. One job? I mean...what am I going to do with myself with all of this extra time?
So, then LHM proposed to me. (Over the phone, although I think I've forgiven him for that at this point.) He is selling his business, and will leave everything he's worked for over the past seven years to move to Chicago and start a new life with me there. We will start out own PI firm. A family business. You know...like "Hart to Hart".