Holiday Kisses. Gwynne Forster

      After a rough, sleepless night, Kisha dragged herself out of bed, remembered that it was Saturday and took her time getting dressed. She liked the autumn. The crisp air, the trees’ paintbrush colors and the fresh apples made it her favorite time of the year. She made coffee and went out on her deck to drink it. Looking at her backyard, she remembered the thing she liked least about autumn. She disliked raking and discarding the leaves that drifted down from her tree and those nearby.

      “May as well get to it,” Noreen King, her next door neighbor said. “There’ll be that many more tomorrow.”

      “I know, but raking leaves was not on my agenda this morning. How’re things?”

      “I’m firing on all cylinders, friend. I got that job, and I’m gonna be pitch woman for Dainty Diapers. I got a two-year contract. Would you believe that? Poverty go ’way from my door.”

      “That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you. What does the job entail?” Kisha asked her.

      “Some public appearances. I was one month from foreclosure. Girl, I’ve used up all my savings, and I’ve been eating grits three times a day. The Lord will provide.”

      “I knew it was rough. Over a year out of work and a mortgage to pay…Well that’s over now. Maybe we should celebrate.”

      “Sounds good to me. I thanked the Lord, and now I’m ready to kick up my heels. How about eating at Red Maple and then checking out the club?”

      Kisha frowned and leaned against a post. “I hate going to places like that without a male date. Some guy always hits on you.”

      “That’s not so bad. I met my ex-husband at a place like that one, and we stayed married for seven years, till he reached the age of forty and decided that he’d get all the use possible out of his happy rod while it still worked. Great, if he’d confined his fun to me, but he needed variety. I ditched his butt.”

      She was not going to touch that one. “Nobody likes to have fun more than I do, Noreen, but I’m not sure about Red Maple. I like to dance.”

      “Don’t be such a homebody.”

      Kisha had no enthusiasm for Noreen’s idea, but she didn’t have a better one. “My coffee’s gotten cold. I think I’ll rake some leaves. Suppose I make a reservation for dinner at seven-thirty. Okay?”

      “Works for me.”

      She went inside, put on a pair of jeans and some sneakers, hooked her portable radio and her cell phone to her belt, got the rake and some black plastic bags from the cellar and began raking leaves. When the voice of Billie Holiday singing “Easy Living” drifted from her radio, her thoughts went to Craig and the impression he’d made on her after being with him only three times.

      Even though he was something of a local celebrity, Craig seemed unaffected by his celebrity. On the air, he was sharp and assertive, but with her, he was more…well…lighthearted and personable and didn’t use so many four-syllable words. Not that she had anything against them. She prided herself on her vocabulary. She let the garden rake lean against her belly and threw up her hands. How much more time and energy was she going to waste mooning over Craig Jackson, she admonished herself.

      She worked until she’d stuffed all the leaves into two big black plastic bags. “If any more fall,” she said aloud as she rubbed her back, “they can fertilize the garden.” She’d just sat on the edge of the deck to rest and breathe deeply of the morning air when her cell phone rang.

      Thinking that Noreen probably wanted to cancel their date with a bizarre excuse, as she often did, Kisha rested her elbow on her knee, expelled a long breath. “Hi. What happened?”

      “This is Craig. Who did you think it was?”

      “Noreen. My next-door neighbor. She’s a drama queen. How are you, Craig?”

      “You sound as if you’ve been up for hours. It’s just a little bit after eight. I’d planned to sleep until noon, but it wasn’t to be. I woke up at seven.”

      “I got up early this morning, too. I just raked and bagged a gardenful of dry leaves.”

      “If you had promised me a cup of coffee, I would gladly have done that for you.”

      “Are you telling me you’d come over here on a Saturday morning to rake leaves in my garden?”

      “I’d go farther than that to be with you, coffee or no coffee.”

      Taken aback, she nearly dropped the phone. “Oh!”

      “Is that all you have to say? A guy tells you he likes your company, and you show no interest. Lady, I am wounded!”

      She laughed, more from nerves than from any humor in his words. “You’ve put me on the spot. Obviously I wouldn’t like to wound you. First time I saw you, you looked like a bird with only one wing. Far from me to bring about a repeat of that scene. Of course, the last time I saw you, your wings were in full strength and—”

      He interrupted her. “May I see you tonight? I want to see you.”

      The urgency with which he spoke it sent ripples of excitement through her. What was it about this man that made her want to stretch herself with him, do things she’d never done, see life through different eyes?

      “What did you have in mind?” Surely that cool voice didn’t belong to her.

      “We could go to dinner and dance later, or dinner and a concert, or we could go down to the harbor and watch boats. I don’t care what.”

      She thought for a minute. The less money he spent on her the better. “Let’s see. We could go down to the harbor and watch the boats?”

      “Are you serious?” he asked as if he hadn’t included that among his suggestions.

      “Yes, I love the water.”

      “In that case, I know a delightful restaurant on the edge of the Patapsco River, and it’s not too cool to dine outside at the river’s edge. If the moon is shining, it’s idyllic.”

      The more he talked, the more eager she was to see him. “That sounds wonderful, Craig. What time…Oops!”

      “What’s the matter?”

      “I just remembered that I promised Noreen, my neighbor, that we’d go out tonight and celebrate her new job.” She pulled air through her front teeth. “Maybe we can do this another time.”

      “Girl, you still out here?”

      “Excuse me a minute, Craig,” Kisha said and covered the mouth piece. “What’s up, Noreen?”

      “Girl, I just remembered a hot blue dress that used to be too small, but with these depression-era meals I’ve been eating, I’ve lost a lot of weight, and this baby fits perfectly. Let’s dress up tonight.”

      “All right. I’ve got someone on the phone.” She removed her hand from the mouthpiece. “I like my neighbor a lot, but right now, I’d love to put her out of commission,” she said to Craig, her voice colored with laughter.

      His deep and musical chuckle gave her a warm, feminine rush. “You don’t strike me as being a woman who walks on the edge, Kisha, but there’s something about you that leans that way.”

      “I suspect that’s something you and I are unlikely to explore.” He was right, if he meant she didn’t sit on the side of the road and watch life dance past her.

      “Kisha, there’s an old proverb that says ‘Never declare war, unless you mean to do battle,’ so don’t force me to demonstrate