He went around and entered through the driver’s door. Fighting back a renewed wave of fatigue, he fastened his seatbelt, and then checked to make sure that Vivian had secured hers as well. She smiled back at him. He managed a tentative smile in return and then turned back and started the car.
The drive to her apartment—condominium, he correctly silently himself, remembering that she owned it—passed quietly. Vivian seemed comfortable and at ease—a significant departure from the borderline she-demon who had Walter had experienced back at the library. Whatever had troubled her then appeared to have passed. Walter still wondered about it, but let it pass. He knew that sometimes, particularly with women, such things were better left alone.
He found a parking spot relatively close to where her unit was located. Although he had a direct line of sight to her front door, and despite his growing weariness, he decided the right thing to do would be to escort her all the way to her front step.
He opened her car door for her and waited while she climbed out. She seemed to do so at a leisurely pace, stretching her legs out before her before allowing Walter to take her hand and guide her up from her seat. Walter supposed that he should have been stirred by the sight of her slender legs, but mostly he was just tired. He wanted to get home to Abigail, crawl into bed, and blot out the events of the day in the unknowingness of sleep.
Vivian waited for him to close the car door and then slowly began walking toward her place. She seemed to in particular hurry and, Walter had to admit, it was a nice night. Most of the day’s heat had eased with the setting of the sun. There was a slight breeze coming, Walter guessed, from the north. It lacked the faintly salty aroma of the air currents that came in from the west.
Walking through the small greenbelt sheltered within the rough rectangle formed by the buildings, it felt as if they strolled through a suburban park. Walter could almost ignore their fortress-like surroundings. Had things been different, if it not for Abigail waiting for him at home, he could see himself taking Vivian’s hand in his own.
Vivian glanced at him as if reading his thoughts. Walter looked away, feeling his cheeks tingle with embarrassment. He felt genuine relief when they reached her doorstep. She reached for her keys, finding them after only a moment of poking through her purse. After unlocking the door, she turned back to Walter.
“Thank you,” she told him quietly.
She stood in front of him, less than an arm’s distance away.
“I mean it,” she said. She waited a moment and then leaned up and kissed him.
Walter suspected that it might have been originally intended as a quick, friendly brush of her lips. Once they touched, though, it lingered for several moments longer than would probably have been considered acceptable.
Vivian moved away and smiled at him. For a moment, he feared that she might invite him inside. It would be rude to refuse, but it would be a really bad idea. Even as exhausted as he was, his body told him that it was more than willing to make an effort.
Fortunately, he was saved from that choice. Vivian opened the door and went inside, turning at the last moment to give him a parting smile before closing the door. He heard it lock and breathed a quiet, but audible, sigh of relief. Feeling suddenly much cooler, he turned and headed back to his car.
Even after he climbed inside, though, it was several minutes before his mind stopped racing and his heart rate returned to normal.
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