Powering Through: A Sequel to Learning To Swim For Real

Chapter 6: The Girl Can't Help It

"Hi, sweetie," Jack said, entering the kitchen through the door that connected it to the garage. He hugged her from behind, kissing her neck, taking a deep breath, inhaling appreciatively. Kelsey had already showered, and was wearing one of Jack's old shirts, her preferred garb for sleep, always. She was pouring herself a glass of wine.

"Hello," she returned. She allowed him to kiss her neck, but didn't tilt her head to give him easier access, nor did she turn around. "Did you eat dinner?" she asked, still facing the counter.

Jack shook his head. "You?"

Kelsey shook her head also.

"Do you want to order in?" He rubbed his nose on her hair. "Or do you want me to cook?" He glanced down at her shirt. "You've already changed, so I assume you don't want to go out..."

"Jack, you don't have to cook for me," Kelsey answered, stepping away and finally turning to face him. "My stomach isn't your responsibility, you know."

"I know, I know," he said, nodding. "But you've been working all day, while I've been gallivanting all over town, sightseeing. Besides, remember our deal? In exchange for you giving me this beautiful place to live, I'm supposed to pick up the slack doing various sundry domestic tasks?" He winked at her, but she didn't try to wink back or laugh or anything, she just gave him a small, measured smile. "You should rest, and I can whip up some, uh, something, I don't know, I'll have to see what we have," he concluded. Maybe she was just tired.

"No, it's fine, really, let's just get a pizza," Kelsey said, nodding.

"Okay," Jack agreed. "You wanna order it? I'll just hop in the shower."

She nodded again as she went in the living room, taking the bottle, and Jack headed for the shower. He spent the whole time he was in there trying to figure out what was wrong, what he'd done. He couldn't. He pulled on fresh pajamas and dried his hair, thinking and thinking.

Jack went to the living room, a little unsure of what to do. He knew something was bothering Kelsey, but he had no clue what it could be.

He decided to buy himself some time and detoured to the kitchen to get himself a drink.

"You okay?" he asked as he poured himself some juice.

She nodded and took a sip of her wine. "I'm fine," she said, picking up the remote and turning on the TV.

Dang it. Now he really didn't know what he was supposed to do. Like when they were in San Francisco, his inexperience was hindering him. Was he supposed leave it alone now? Change the subject? He did remember Zach telling him once that never, under any circumstances, were you supposed to believe the words "I'm fine," when they came back at you from an otherwise silent girlfriend.

How in the world was he supposed to know what was wrong if she wouldn't say? And now was he supposed to go and sit next to her? Did she want that? Or was he supposed to give her space?

Or what?

If he asked, he was screwed.

If he didn't ask, he was screwed.

If he took her at her word, he was screwed.

She said she was fine, but that meant she wasn't.

The last time he'd seen her, all had been well, and he hadn't said or done anything to her, as far as he knew, since then.

But somehow, she was upset with him.

Mystifying.

Dang it.