The Eternal Relationship

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy ‘A’ frame cabin where a peaceful romantic getaway scene could turn into reality. With both hands controlling the steering wheel, my palms sweat due to warm air created inside the auto's heater, while a special passenger soundly slept.

“Are we almost there?” She asked.

“Well, you tell me,” I replied, putting high beam headlights on, spotlighting the golden gateway property.

“Amazing,” Abigail gasped seeing new surroundings.

“Awesome,”

Approaching the promise land destination, we grabbed each other's hands showing a strong union, making our way through the taunting winter tease. “Andrew,” Abigail’s trusting eyes glistened, “this place is beautiful,”

Displaying an enlarged grin ready to encounter small wooden inconvenient steps leading to the front entrance, I pulled keys out shaking loose frosty flakes from my gloves, “welcome to my heavenly home.”

“Now, I know why your apartment doesn’t have anything inside it.”

“That is only a way to test someone’s materialistic interest and considered worthy,”

“Andrew,” she giggled, “are you suggesting?”

Staying silent I watched the jacket come off and I followed, “do you know what time it is?”

“What does that matter? When the sun rises then it will be a new day.”

“A new beginning,” she continued coming to grips that schedules were no longer agenda items.

Hours later my love reappeared beautifully dressed presenting an innocent white outfit, perfectly displayed, “you look outstanding,” I remarked about the fashion ensemble.

Seeing the candlelight table setting I watched her find comfort, “such a romantic,”

“Only for you my love,”

“Am I really your only,”

I remained motionless, letting my good looks do the talking, ensuring sudden plan changes were not acceptable.

“Are we going to eat?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” I quickly found two loaded plates waiting to be devoured,

“Wow,” she exclaimed, “is that spaghetti and meatballs? I loved that as a child,”

“I know,” I acknowledged, “your mom told me,”

“My Mom, has been dead for years,” she explained twirling the Italian pasta, “I live off the inheritance, wanting,”

“What?”

“Peace,” I listened, accepting the answer.

After we ate, Abigail retired, I found the couch a wonderfully comfortable place and shut my eyes. When they reopened, I could see my dream girl holding a teacup staging a quizzical reflective stare.

Barefooted I approached the back porch scene, still wearing the dress pants and white shirt unbuttoned, “snow is gone, and it is a beautiful spring day.”

“Does it still appear amazing?” I inquired.

“Yes, but, ‘how did the weather change?’”

Taking a seat, I sensitively addressed the issue, “it is not the weather changing, Abigail,”

“Then what,” she paused, “is it?”

“Your stepmother Martha, who you were visiting,” I stopped abruptly.

“Yes, she has been my best friend since,” Abigail paused,

“You never had any significant other,” I completed the sentence.

“No, my father one morning did not wake up after an elegant dinner party,” Abigail clarified, “I must have been an easy target,”

“Sad to say, you had that tempting nice financial nest egg,” I reported, “Martha poisoned your meal then dug a shallow grave where you were buried.”

“And you?”

“Saw the whole thing go down,” I explained, “The ‘A’ house design stands for, “angelic” and I am your guardian.”

Taking everything in stride she finished her drink hearing a knock, “why don’t you go answer it,” I advised.

Hurrying to confront the door, Abigail screamed “Mother.”

“Honey, you arrived,”

“Mom?” Abigail shockingly asked.

“I am going shopping,” Abigail’s mother announced, “do you want to join me? This new place just opened, and it has your name on it.”

“Yes, Mother I started a business with the family wealth,”

“Andrew, are you going to be all right,”

“Yes, honey,” I shouted, “later today there is a youth football game.”

“Andrew!”

“I am a guardian angel, and they are learning to tackle each other.”

Heading to the Majestic Mall, I could translate Abigail’s mother’s lips, “Andrew says the ‘A’ stands for angelic but when your stepmother finally checks in, he will turn the heat on, and adulterer will be the new ‘A’ definition.”

“Mom, do you think we can meet Dad for lunch?”

“Actually, he is settling sinful catering debt problems until further notice.”