Doe Hollow

Riding the Bike

Abby awoke to the first rays of sunlight streaming into the window. Her elbows were severely cramped from sleeping on her arms, and she rolled over to her back and stretched them, grimacing at the sharp pains. James slept soundly beside her, and looked so peaceful and boyish Abby hated to move for fear of waking him, but nature called urgently. She leaned over the edge of the bed, fishing up her tank top and panties, then carefully slipped out from under the covers and into her clothes.

When she emerged from the bathroom, the bed was empty and she smelled coffee brewing. She padded down the hall on her bare feet, stretching her arms in front of her to work out the last aches in her elbows.

"Good morning," James greeted her softly, handing her a cup of coffee from the Keurig. She accepted it graciously and he busied himself preparing another cup.

"What time do you have to be at work?" Abby asked, yawning as she consulted the time on the microwave. Abby's military disability benefits, along with her parents' insistence that she live at home, so far allowed her a comfortable lifestyle without employment, but she was quickly adjusting to her loved ones' work schedules.

"Nine," James replied, glancing at the clock himself as he added water to the coffee maker. Abby took her cup to the table and sat, the wooden chair cold on her bare thighs. James soon joined her at the table, sipping from his own steaming mug.

"I guess I'll get going here soon, so you can get ready," Abby yawned. James grinned at her.

"Don't rush," he implored. "Make yourself at home." Abby laughed softly.

"I need to go home and shower," Abby reasoned. "I didn't even bring clean clothes." James shrugged.

"You look fine in what you have on," he teased. Abby rolled her eyes but grinned as she sipped her coffee. She suddenly grew thoughtful.

"What are we doing?" She asked, setting her cup on the table and tracing her finger ponderously around the rim. James watched her for a moment, then shrugged.

"Drinking coffee," he said simply. Abby looked into his eyes.

"You know what I mean," she prodded. A thousand thoughts rushed through James' head. Rather than answer her question, he posed one of his own.

"Before you came home last week, when was the last time you did just exactly what you wanted to do?"

Abby's eyebrows came almost completely together in consternation. Her mouth opened slightly and she drew a breath as if to speak, but quickly closed her mouth again and exhaled sharply.

"Are you happy?" James asked, taking her hand across the table. Abby stared at their joined hands for a moment, then whispered,

"Yes."

"So am I," James agreed softly, letting her hand slide to the table as he leaned back in his chair. Abby chewed her lip. "We're just doing whatever we want to do," he added.

"He has a point," Hayley called from inside the changing room at Walmart. "Of course, he doesn't know as well as I do, but even before the military you weren't exactly the spontaneous type." Abby absently picked at the plastic handle of the buggy she was waiting beside.

"Yeah but I mean, you don't think it's all happening a little fast?" She asked. "I had only been home a week and spent two of those nights in a row out of my own bed." Hayley emerged from the changing room in her own clothes, tossed a pair of shorts in the return buggy and another pair of shorts into her own.

"Abby, you're twenty-eight years old," Hayley rationalized. "At this point you know what you want and don't want in a relationship. You can date someone for a year and not feel anything, or you can date someone for a week and feel everything. If you're really feeling it, who's to say what's too fast?" She began pushing the buggy between the racks of granny panties and tube socks, and Abby followed.