OBLIGATION

by Donald Stilwell

  He had mentioned steak to Allison. He had plenty in the freezer but he didn’t think that would do. In the butcher aisle he found an attendant and requested filet mignon, good size portions. It was the best piece of meat he could think of and one he was equipped to prepare thoughtfully.

  Next he found the produce aisle and selected three large potatoes, and several selections of vegetables. Finally, he moved to the bakery.

  Back home he placed the items in the kitchen then went to the task of cleaning the house.

  Kevin had always been clean, perhaps not inspection clean, surely clean enough for he and Ethan, still this was different. A woman was visiting and women, on the whole, were much cleaner than men.

  Several hours passed. Kevin walked room to room making sure all was in order. He felt foolish really, what the hell did he care and what was he doing? If she showed up, and that was a big if, did he really need the hassle? Had he ever needed it? He was thirty-five years old now and had managed his entire life to provide and care for himself. There was Ethan now, but Ethan wanted for nothing as Kevin was sure he cared for the boy the very best that he could.

  "It was necessary.” Isn’t that what Peter had said. Of all the ghosts that came to visit Kevin in his dreams, Peter was the only one he would listen to.

  Kevin made little of it when six o’clock rolled around and Allison hadn’t shown. No matter, he thought, her filet would be fine for lunch tomorrow.

  Kevin was angry and he cursed himself for it. What had he expected, really? He was in the middle of removing the potatoes from the oven when Ethan exclaimed, “There’s a car pulling up the drive.”

  Kevin felt a chill run the length of his spine and a flittering in the pit of his stomach. He looked to the wall clock, six-twenty.

  He looked out the living room window and saw Allison, dressed in dark jeans, boots, and a gray V-neck sweater. She was adjusting a large pink box as she spotted him in the window and waved.

  He opened the door for her and noticed not for the first time how beautiful she was. Her hair, flowing loosely around her shoulders this time, was several shades of light brown. The color, he noticed, complimented the radiant warm green of her eyes. She smiled sweetly, moving her gaze to Ethan. Kevin hadn’t noticed Ethan moving into place right beside him.

  She handed the box to him, “This is for you. I hope you like chocolate cake.”

  Ethan beamed, “I love chocolate cake.” With that, Ethan took the box and walked quickly to the kitchen.

  "I’m sorry I’m late, it took a while to find a bakery.”

  "Not at all, dinner’s just about ready, and we both love chocolate cake, thank you.”

  Kevin showed Allison to the kitchen, pulled out a chair for her.

  "Don’t you need some help? I’d feel useless just sitting here watching you do all the work.”

  Kevin spoke softly, trying to shave the edge of abrasiveness his voice usually held, “You’re our guest . . .”

  Before Kevin could finish, Ethan chimed in, “Yeah, you’re our guest, Just relax, can I get you something to drink?”

  "Thank you, Ethan, I’d love some water.”

  Kevin watched the exchange, thought to himself if he didn’t know better, Ethan was rapidly developing a crush on Agent Collins.

  It was weird, but in a good way, Allison’s presence in the house brought something that had been missing sense, well sense forever. She brought light. Kevin thought of flowers next to a hospital bed and quickly dismissed the vision.

  Allison watched, taking in Kevin’s aptness in the kitchen. He moved with the same grace she had noticed on their prior meeting. He seemed comfortable now, safe in his domain. He served the meal which looked and smelled incredible.

  "I hope you like it. Is medium okay?”

  Allison noticed the muscles of Kevin’s forearm as he set the platter down before her. She cursed herself silently for missing his question. “I’m sorry?”

  “Your filet, I cooked it medium, I hope that’s okay?”

  “Medium is perfect, thank you.”

  Ethan’s light frame was in stark contrast to Kevin’s intimidating stature. Regardless, the boy moved easily around him, bringing the bread and salad to the table, he did so without being asked. Kevin waited for Ethan to sit, and then asked if anyone needed anything else. Allison was finding it more and more difficult to believe there was no Mrs. Anderson.

  “I’m fine, please sit down, I can’t wait to try this.”

  Kevin sat, pleased by Allison’s desire to try his cooking.

  “Oh my god, this is sooo-- good,” Allison said through a mouthful of filet mignon. “How did you get this so perfect?”

  Kevin hadn’t tried his yet, just watched as Allison took her first bite. He looked away before it got weird for her. “I sear it in the pan, then cover it with butter and salt and pepper and finish it in the oven. The butter really takes to it this way.”

  “Uh – yeah, this is the best I’ve ever had.”

  Ethan smiled through his own mouthful watching Kevin watch Allison. He liked her already, she was pretty and funny.

  “You’re too kind,” Kevin said as he tasted his first bite.

  Allison popped another mouthful in and let go the pretense of any formal etiquette, “I hope I’m not disgusting you here, I’m on the road a lot lately, and I just don’t get too many home-cooked meals.”

  “Well then, our kitchen is always open.”

  Kevin wanted to dig in to his meal as well but felt such admiration for this distraction, he couldn’t. He took small bites as was necessary and watched her enjoy the food he had prepared.

  He was delighted to see how much she truly enjoyed it. Her filet was almost gone when she looked up again to find him watching her.

  Allison wiped her mouth and put her fork down, “Wow, I’m really sorry. Again, the food, it’s just . . .”

  “You looked so happy. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stared.” Kevin felt his face redden, he embarrassed her unnecessarily.

  “I can’t be the first person to tell you how good your cooking is?”

  She must have thought he did this all the time, how could she know how wrong that assumption would be?

  “Ethan might tell his friends I make a mean peanut butter and jelly. Other than that, you’re the first.”

  “It’s wonderful. You’re very kind to take in a stranger like this.”

  “A stranger would never make it in the front door. My Uncle Kevin must really like you,” Ethan said through a mouthful of food.

  Kevin scratched his head and looked away; kids never had any trouble with the truth, no matter how it made others feel.

  “Okay, buddy, let’s not scare Allison off before she’s finished her meal.”

  Allison looked to Ethan, “C’mon, you two seem quite at home entertaining guests, you must do this all the time.”

  Ethan answered before Kevin could intercept the remark.

  “You’re the first person Uncle Kevin’s ever invited over, I mean besides my dad when he was alive.”

  Allison looked at Kevin thoughtfully; she didn’t know what to say.

  “He’s right; we kind of stick together like a tiny wolf pack.”

  Ethan let out a quiet howl. The sound broke the tension, and Kevin and Allison both laughed.

  The three of them finished their meal with no more distraction; Allison was content to eat everything on her plate, while Ethan and Kevin enjoyed the sight of her at their table. When the food was gone and dishes put away, Ethan excused himself to finish his homework. Kevin told him to come back out after he had showered for bed and they could have cake. Ethan rubbed his belly in an exaggerated circle and ran off.

  Allison spoke first, “He’s a great kid.”

  "The best,” Kevin agreed.

  "You want some coffee?”

  "That sounds perfect. Can I help this time?”

  "Sure.”

  Kevin handed the bag of Colombian to Allison, asking how strong she pref
erred her coffee. Allison felt the bag, taking in the fact it was whole bean.

  "You grind your own beans? No instant Folgers?”

  "Wow, what kind of a guy do you take me for? You must really think me a Neanderthal.”

  "Actually, I was beginning to think you’re too good to be true.”

  "I would postpone any judgment until after you’ve tried the coffee.”

  Kevin poured a handful of beans into the grinder. After several seconds he poured the freshly ground beans into a French press, then put water on to boil. His aptitude for all things domestic did not go unnoticed by Allison. When the coffee was finished, Kevin moved to the fridge where he removed cream, then a small jade colored bowl of sugar. He had mixed the ingredients into two small China cups before pouring the hot coffee. Allison never took her eyes off of him. He was precise without being pretentious. She guessed he took the same care with everything he did.

  Coffee poured, Kevin walked Allison outside where he placed the tray onto a small wooden table based in the center of the front porch. After making sure Allison was seated and required nothing more, Kevin took his own seat. He handed Allison her coffee, then took his own. “I hope you enjoy it” followed, and the two of them sat there looking into the gathering darkness.

  The coffee was delicious, as she knew it would be.

  Allison wasn’t sure how many more compliments she could hoist upon Kevin before he thought her an embellisher, so she settled with one word.

  "Perfect.”

  "I’m glad you like it. I enjoy it strong, that’s why I use the press, preserves the bean’s natural oil.”

  "Okay, seriously Kevin Anderson, where’s the wife or the bevy of girlfriends? Your skills in the kitchen are beyond reasonable possibility and your manners are straight out of a bygone era.”

  "I’m trying too hard, huh?”

  "That’s just it; you don’t seem to being trying at all. You are perfect void any conscious effort at all.”

  "You should see me in the morning, clumsy as an ox, and positively mannerless.”

  "I doubt that.”

  Kevin felt a little lightheaded. He was talking to this beautiful woman and enjoying every second of it, and moreover, she seemed to like him as well. It was too good to be true and he knew it. For the moment, anyway, he would push aside his doubts. It was one night, a couple more hours at best, he would allow himself this time, this exchange with another human being and believe at least for now that somehow he had done something to deserve it.

  Allison didn’t want to spoil the effortlessness of the evening. She looked around, taking in the gathering darkness; the land surrounding her seemed impossibly quiet as the sprawling city was only a mile or two beneath them. She managed an extended sigh when she turned her gaze upward.

  From this vantage, the stars were remarkable, the night sky shedding any residue of the day’s turn as light bearer.

  "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kevin remarked. “I never even noticed when I was a kid growing up here.”

  Allison removed her gaze from the sky overhead and focused on Kevin. “You grew up here? Nice childhood.”

  Kevin was unsure how much to bestow upon his guest at this point in time. Did it really matter, he supposed? Would he ever see her again after tonight?

  "Allison, I know I mentioned this before, but I believe it bears repeating. I’m not especially apt at conversation. I wish I were, especially in times such as these. What I’m saying is, I’ll tell you as much as you want to hear. When I hear you snoring, I’ll stop, okay?”

  Allison laughed while taking him in thoughtfully. His manner of seduction was unparalleled; did he really not understand how enticing he was? “Kevin, I seriously doubt anyone anywhere has ever labeled you as boring. I would love to hear all about you, don’t leave out anything.”

  Kevin knew enough to know a one sided conversation was never compelling; therefore, he asked the first question.

  "Where do you call home?”

  Allison smiled. “I thought you were going to tell me about you?”

  “We’d be done with that story before our coffee was finished; anyway, I’ve got a feeling your life is much more interesting than mine.”

  The smile continued. “Nice one.” Allison took another sip of the wonderful coffee Kevin had served her. “I live in Portland, now. I grew up in Montana.”

  "Portland is beautiful. Did you request that?”

  "Actually yes, my first assignment out of Quantico was New York. I hated it. When my three years was up, an opening became available and I took it.”

  "Why not go back to Montana?”

  "That’s the FBI’s big rule, you can’t go home.”

  "Not very accommodating of them, I’m sorry, what town did you grow up in? Did I miss that?”

  "A Norman Rockwell type of place, Missoula, have you ever heard of it?”

  Kevin thought for a moment, couldn’t recall having to visit anyone in the night there, “Yes, but I’ve never been.”

  Allison laughed as she remarked, “Don’t beat yourself up, not many people have, a medium sized population, but not wildly popular, unless you’re an Elk of course.”

  "Now you, did you live here your whole life?”

  "A good portion of it, my father was in the military. We lived on base in San Diego until I was ten.”

  "San Diego is nice. What brought you to Northern California?”

  "My father was killed in the war. My mother, brother, and I moved here afterward.”

  "Kevin, I’m sorry, seems I’m always asking you something that brings back a bad memory.”

  "It was a long time ago, no need to apologize. We’re just talking, right?”

  “So moving from base to this beautiful place, how did you guys afford it?”

  Kevin looked at Allison thoughtfully, “This was my grandfather’s place; he left it to me when he passed. My mother, brother, and I lived in a much smaller place in town.”

  Kevin immediately felt guilt at what would come next and the answers he would be obligated to give. She couldn’t know beforehand how much loss one person could be subjected to in so few years. Before she could continue, Kevin intervened,

  "Your turn again, why the FBI?”

  Instinctively, Allison thought she must have been teetering on the precipice of another series of difficult to answer or hear questions. She wanted to know about him, but allowed the deflection.

  "I ask myself that same question all the time, and every time I come up with the same lame sounding answer.”

  Kevin waited.

  "I have to answer, don’t I?” Allison looked at him with eyes that begged for a reprieve.

  "Only if you want to.”

  "Okay, here goes. I wanted to be part of the good guys, I wanted to do my part to ensure the--, Jesus I sound like a promo for a conservative political group.” Allison breathed out and completed her thought, “I wanted to protect our way of life.” Allison waited for the laughter, or the quick, “Wow, it’s really getting late yawn” neither one came and she sighed a breath of appreciative relief.

  Kevin straightened a bit in the wooden rocker. “I think that sounds very noble.”

  Allison quietly spoke, “Thank you.” After a second, “Did you always want to be a police officer?”

  Kevin expelled a breath with too much force, “No, actually, I once dreamed of playing professional golf.”

  Allison stared at him, “Golf? Really?”

  "You don’t like golf?” Kevin posed.

  "No, not that at all, I just wouldn’t pick you out as the golfing type.”

  Kevin had an idea what she was alluding to, but let her say it. “I didn’t know there was a golfing type.”

  Allison blushed, “Alright maybe type was the incorrect choice of words, how about physical characteristics not in direct correlation with one who golfs.”

  Kevin had to laugh out loud at that one, “Allison I must admit, that was the nicest, most politically correct way anyone has eve
r called me a knuckle-dragger.

  Allison laughed herself, “Shit, is that what it came out sounding like? I didn’t mean for it, what I meant was, you have the build of someone—”

  Kevin cut her off, a smile still lingering on his lips, “of someone who breaks things, who feeds primarily from the bottom, who--”

  It was Kevin’s turn to be cut off as Allison leaned closer, put a hand on his thigh, “A build of someone who handles things others less formidable cannot.”

  Kevin leaned in as well, let Allison’s hand remain where it was, “At least I sound like a knuckle-dragger with a heart.”

  Their faces were closer than they had been all night. Kevin could smell the faint trace of vanilla and jasmine emanating from Allison’s exposed neckline. Allison became acutely aware of the warmth radiating from a male presence so dangerous and yet so gentle. It was heartbreaking. Allison kept her eyes on Kevin’s face. She knew he wanted to kiss her. She wanted him to. It would be so easy, a relief really. One kiss, one perfect blend of heat and tenderness and desire, then another, then . . .

  Ethan was calling from the doorway, “Can I have some cake now, please?”

  Kevin felt the blood release through him from places it had begun to pool. He felt a buzzing around him; felt strangely out of body as he answered Ethan, “Sure, pal. Hold on, I’m coming.”

  Kevin found Allison’s hand with his own, “Will you join us?”

  Allison hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until that moment. She let him take her hand, and immediately liked what she felt. It was a big hand, the hand of someone who had worked and lived outdoors; it felt strong and purposeful, safe. He didn’t let go until they were in the kitchen. Once there, he found a spot for her before attending to the cake.

  Again the manners, the attentiveness, she was enjoying this way more than she had believed she would.

  Kevin cut three equal pieces for all of them. Following this, he poured milk from a glass bottle; you hardly saw those anymore, she thought. The cake and milk were delicious, just as everything else had been.

  Ethan finished his last bite and sighed heavily, “Thank you, Allison. The cake was terrific.”