replied.
"Where are you going?" she asked. Her name tag on her uniform said Kristin. What a nice name, he thought. Had he ever experienced a Kristin?
"Oh, Canada, I guess."
"You guess?" Kristin had a nice smile. She couldn't be more than twenty, he thought, still fresh and vibrant and full of promises. He envied the man in whose ear she would whisper them, and for a moment, just a moment, he thought about love. The concept flashed past him — wanting someone who wants you forever and ever. What a strange idea; it was like having a milk bottle that continually refilled itself after he had consumed its contents. Wouldn't he love that bottle forever and ever?
Kristin was still standing there, staring down at him, smiling.
"Huh? Oh, I'm on vacation. Sort of a free-wheeling one. I go wherever I have an inclination to go. No set schedules, no previously booked places. It's nice here. I might stay a while," he added and began to eat.
Kristin laughed at how casually he spoke about his future, but he saw that she envied such freedom, such abandon.
"I wish I could do something like that," she said. "But I've got to save up for college or believe me, I wouldn't be here. I ran out of money and had to leave for a year to earn some."
"Very ambitious of you," he complimented. She smiled modestly.
"How's the lasagna?"
"Very good. You told me the truth," he said winking. She blushed. What innocence. It made his heart sing.
Yes, he thought. He would stay here a while longer. There was something wonderful and pure about this area now. It was uncluttered, uncrowded, peaceful, and slow, the villages quiet and quaint, the inhabitants moving at a tranquil and serene pace, traffic nearly at a crawl. There was none of the hustle and bustle of the cities, and the people who lived here, because they were relaxed, were friendlier, more inviting. More important, they were more trusting.
"I just checked in some motel last night," he said, "but maybe I'll hang around a while. Know of a good rooming house or something, where I could rent a room for a week or more?"
"Oh yes," Kristin said, her hazel eyes brightening. "My grandmother runs a rooming house and it's off season now so you could get one very cheaply."
"That sounds great."
She told him how to get there. And then she added, "I live there with my grandmother."
"Um," he said, enjoying every succulent bite of his homemade lasagna. "Maybe I can talk you into showing me around one day."
"On my day off," she replied. "This Thursday."
"Maybe we'll have a date. My name is Karl," he said, offering his hand. He was working his way around the alphabet again and he was on the K's.
She placed her small, soft palm and fingers into his, and he closed his hand over hers slowly, staring down at it as he did so, looking like one who couldn't believe his luck. The sensuous way in which he brought his skin to hers and held her hand sent a tingle through her breasts. She felt her heart quicken. Her physiological reactions took her quite by surprise. Never had she stood smiling so foolishly at a man before. She was very self-conscious and shifted her eyes from side to side quickly to be sure no one around had noticed. But everyone in the restaurant was busy with his or her own thing.
Finally, he released her hand, letting her draw it from his gracefully, the tips of his fingers grazing the tips of hers. It sent another tingle through her bosom, a tingle that seemed to escape through the tips of each nipple. He had such a soft, inviting mouth, she thought and imagined her mouth pressing against his, his tongue searching for hers.
"Hi," she finally uttered and giggled nervously, hating herself for sounding so young. "I'm Kristin, Kristin Martin."
"Kristin is a lovely name. I don't recall ever knowing a woman with that name," he said happily. The way he said it made her think that if he had known another Kristin, he would pay her no attention.
"My grandmother actually named me. My parents were arguing
"Where are you going?" she asked. Her name tag on her uniform said Kristin. What a nice name, he thought. Had he ever experienced a Kristin?
"Oh, Canada, I guess."
"You guess?" Kristin had a nice smile. She couldn't be more than twenty, he thought, still fresh and vibrant and full of promises. He envied the man in whose ear she would whisper them, and for a moment, just a moment, he thought about love. The concept flashed past him — wanting someone who wants you forever and ever. What a strange idea; it was like having a milk bottle that continually refilled itself after he had consumed its contents. Wouldn't he love that bottle forever and ever?
Kristin was still standing there, staring down at him, smiling.
"Huh? Oh, I'm on vacation. Sort of a free-wheeling one. I go wherever I have an inclination to go. No set schedules, no previously booked places. It's nice here. I might stay a while," he added and began to eat.
Kristin laughed at how casually he spoke about his future, but he saw that she envied such freedom, such abandon.
"I wish I could do something like that," she said. "But I've got to save up for college or believe me, I wouldn't be here. I ran out of money and had to leave for a year to earn some."
"Very ambitious of you," he complimented. She smiled modestly.
"How's the lasagna?"
"Very good. You told me the truth," he said winking. She blushed. What innocence. It made his heart sing.
Yes, he thought. He would stay here a while longer. There was something wonderful and pure about this area now. It was uncluttered, uncrowded, peaceful, and slow, the villages quiet and quaint, the inhabitants moving at a tranquil and serene pace, traffic nearly at a crawl. There was none of the hustle and bustle of the cities, and the people who lived here, because they were relaxed, were friendlier, more inviting. More important, they were more trusting.
"I just checked in some motel last night," he said, "but maybe I'll hang around a while. Know of a good rooming house or something, where I could rent a room for a week or more?"
"Oh yes," Kristin said, her hazel eyes brightening. "My grandmother runs a rooming house and it's off season now so you could get one very cheaply."
"That sounds great."
She told him how to get there. And then she added, "I live there with my grandmother."
"Um," he said, enjoying every succulent bite of his homemade lasagna. "Maybe I can talk you into showing me around one day."
"On my day off," she replied. "This Thursday."
"Maybe we'll have a date. My name is Karl," he said, offering his hand. He was working his way around the alphabet again and he was on the K's.
She placed her small, soft palm and fingers into his, and he closed his hand over hers slowly, staring down at it as he did so, looking like one who couldn't believe his luck. The sensuous way in which he brought his skin to hers and held her hand sent a tingle through her breasts. She felt her heart quicken. Her physiological reactions took her quite by surprise. Never had she stood smiling so foolishly at a man before. She was very self-conscious and shifted her eyes from side to side quickly to be sure no one around had noticed. But everyone in the restaurant was busy with his or her own thing.
Finally, he released her hand, letting her draw it from his gracefully, the tips of his fingers grazing the tips of hers. It sent another tingle through her bosom, a tingle that seemed to escape through the tips of each nipple. He had such a soft, inviting mouth, she thought and imagined her mouth pressing against his, his tongue searching for hers.
"Hi," she finally uttered and giggled nervously, hating herself for sounding so young. "I'm Kristin, Kristin Martin."
"Kristin is a lovely name. I don't recall ever knowing a woman with that name," he said happily. The way he said it made her think that if he had known another Kristin, he would pay her no attention.
"My grandmother actually named me. My parents were arguing
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