Hearts and Houses for Sale: A Fine Turn of Events

It was dark by the time Henry Powell pulled his Prius into Selene's cul de sac less than a mile further up the hill in San Pedro.  He parked in front of her house, eyeing the red pavers that splayed out into graduated steps ascending to the arched porch. 

"Thank you so much for staying with me at the emergency room," Selene said. "I'm exhausted but nothing hurts at this point." Selene leaned forward shifting gently in the direction of the car door. Her vision went in and out of focus. "Oooooh...I see my house," she said, her voice slurring and edgy.

"Drugs," Henry Powell said, then jumped out of the car and walked around to open her door. "Somebody had to work the crossword puzzles and Sudukos with you," he said. "That six hour wait could have been unbearable." 

Selene smiled at him. "You're a nice man,"she said in a whispery quivering voice. "I hope Louise has a good agent and the sale goes smoothly. Do you think she cuts her own hair? It looked like crap."

"I think she has rowdy twin boys. Give me your good hand and step out. Watch the curb," Henry Powell said. He reached out and touched the fingers of her right, freckled slim hand.

"Did I say you're a nice man?" Selene grasped his hand, and winced. " I had no idea that a rib broke. Give me a moment."

"I'm at your service, my lady," Henry Powell said. "I'll stay with you tonight in case you need something."

Selene would have laughed out loud if she had the where with all. Instead she focused on her balance. "Will you bring my shoes?" she said. Realizing something sharp had met her heel, it struck her funny that it didn't hurt. Selene began to laugh, then immediately started to weep. "I need to be alone. I need to be alone for tonight," she said looking up into those dark bedroom eyes. "I don't even know you. "

"I'll sleep on the sofa. I don't snore and I make coffee for breakfast," Henry Powell said.

"I have a Sleep Number bed," Selene responded beginning to sniffle as the weeping subsided. "King size with a Nordic comforter." Her body began to shake.

"That sounds like just what you need," Henry Powell said. He lifted her from the car and led her up the steps slowly, one step at a time. "Where's your key?"

Selene handed him her pocketbook. "Probably on the bottom."

Henry Powell fished through her bag, pulling out the cell phone, then the keys. 

"That one is the door," Selene mumbled.

Henry Powell opened the door and deposited her on the large overstuffed sofa in the front living room. "You'll feel better tomorrow. I saw pain pills in your pocketbook." He smiled and kissed her forehead. 

Selene slid down on the plush cushions. "If you hold my hand, there's room for two," she said.

Henry Powell turned and walked out the door, closing it firmly. 

Selene began to cry, her body heaving in distress. At least I've probably sold the house, she thought.  

And that's the truth. To some extent.

to be continued...