It had to have been somewhere around the tenth of May.. maybe later.... maybe earlier. It was somewhere around there when a handsome stranger appeared at the two-story, suburban home in the outskirts of Denver. The man nearly shivering was quite irritated by the fact that the sprinklers were on, watering the grass, and he was trying to avoid getting soaked. That annoyed him.
You see, this particular stranger wasn't fond of any form of water hitting him—he was fine with the pool and beach, but things like rain and sprinklers, not so much.
The stranger stood outside, and impatiently rung the doorbell once more. He received a muffled 'one second!' After a minute--not a second-- a short woman came to the door, looking slightly disheveled.
"Hello, can I help you?" asked the brown-haired woman, the screen door still dividing the two.
"Hello, I heard a house in this neighborhood was renting out-"
"That would be me!" She exclaimed, whipping the door open enthusiastically. The stranger wasn't too happy about being interrupted, but dealt with it.
"You can just leave your suitcases there," she muttered, pointing at a spot next to a coat rack. The coat rack only having two items on it, a long brown leather jacket and a heavy blue corduroy coat with fur lining the interior. He set his two suitcases down next to a pair of snow boots and followed his possible landlord around.
"This is the kitchen," she pointed out. He nodded, and followed her into the living room. It was a simple room, the couch was a medium brown color and quilted, there was a tall lamp next to a gray recliner; a coffee table in the center which had a mess of books on it.
"Onto the the second floor."
The two journeyed up the wooden stairs, the stranger noting how they squeaked whenever they were stepped on. The house didn't seem to be decorated to a certain color scheme, nor was it 'presentable'; he wondered if she was married. It didn't seem like there was anyone else there.
"Down the hall is a study, it belonged to my husband."
So there was a man in her life...
"Does he not use it anymore?" Asked the stranger.
"Oh... he passed away five years ago." She explained quietly.
"Pardon me, I'm sorry for your loss."
The woman changed the subject by pointing to a door nearest to the study, "that's the room you'll be staying in if you decide to rent it out." She waited a moment before proposing, "if you would like, I could show you the garden,"
"That would be nice." The man agreed.
"Anyway, I'm not trying to be nosy, but what brings you here?"
"I'm a teacher at the University of London. I teach literature." He explained, "There was an opening for teaching a semester at a university here, and I wanted to do something new so I applied and for the job."
"Oh, what about your family, or a girlfriend? Do you mind being away from home for so long?"
"I don't have any immediate family left and I'm too busy for any sort of romantic relationship." He answered.
She nodded, he could tell she wasn't listening. She was checking him out. The stranger didn't mind. He knew he was what could be considered 'attractive' by most women. He nearly prided himself on his looks. He was also a bit of a flirt.
"What's your name, I didn't catch it?"
"Sebastian."
"I'm Rachel." She smiled, extending her hand and Sebastian shook it. "So, Sebastian, how old are you?"
"I'll be twenty-seven in June." He answered.
"Are you new at your job?"
"Yes, this was my first year teaching, actually." He answered.
She nodded as they walked down the stairs and out the back door. She showed him the backyard, she was bummed out about the snow.
"Apologies for the sprinklers. . ." She explained, "When it's dry the garden is truly gorgeous. I love to care for all types of flora."
He could hear what she was saying, he just wasn't paying attention. His focus was at the soft sound of metal joints squeaking.
The lady seemed to have heard the noise, too, and she gave a small smile before following it. Sebastian trailed behind her. They arrived to a spot partially behind a tall tree, where they could see a small figure sitting on a swing, using their socked foot to swing themselves back and forth at a slow pace.
It was a young boy. He was oblivious to the fact his mother and stranger were watching him, lost in the world of literature. Rachel, without taking her eyes off the boy, stood up on her toes and leaned towards Sebastian to whisper something.
"That's my Ciel,"
"Your son?" Sebastian asked, barely paying attention to her. She nodded.
This was going to be one hell of a summer.
