The Donut Man

I sat eating breakfast with my parents after they got up and I could tell something was up as they looked at me several times, then at each other with a grin. I finally couldn't stand it any longer.

"Okay. What is it?"

"What's what dear?" My mother replied, then took another bite of her toast.

My father grinned, "How much longer are you going to wait until you call Wade?"

I couldn't believe it! My parents were having a good time—pushing me to see a man they had met but one time, okay, two times if you counted picking me up and dropping me off. My parents had never said anything to me about who I dated, in fact, the only time my father had ever said anything about anyone I dated was the comment about Tim not being very smart in his opinion. Not that I hadn't noticed the comment—they obviously thought I was old enough to make my own mistakes when it came to my social life. Now, I wondered if that would have extended to Tim asking for my hand in marriage.

I felt myself start to blush a little. Were my parents reading my mind? I had been thinking of Wade ever since I got up—I had reached for my phone three times and put it back down. I had gotten used to calling Tim right after we started to date, but we had known one another for so long it didn't seem something out of the ordinary to do. But Wade?

"Mom and Dad, are you telling me you like Wade?"

They glanced at one another again, then smiled. My mother looked at me and asked, "Don't you?"

I was almost too stunned to reply. They had met Wade just yesterday, my father had watched him punch out my previous boyfriend, one he had known for years, and now both of them were giving him their seal of approval. Where had the hands-off policy gone when it came to the men I date?

I decided not to respond directly to their question. I just couldn't admit Wade had made that much of an impression on me after just one date. I had to make it look like I was being more thoughtful regarding dating again, after all, I had just broken up with my long-term boyfriend and should have been feeling absolutely devastated. Maybe it was the fact I wasn't that was most telling. Even with the drama of having Tim getting his ass kicked I hadn't shown any concern for his well-being afterward.

"Well, I guess I could call him and thank him for getting me home safe and sound," I said earnestly.

"You know, that would be a very mature thing to do," my father chuckled.

It wasn't hard to see he was humoring me, well...they both were. I turned and started for my room saying over my shoulder.

"Okay. I see you really want me to call him so I will. But it's really your idea," I said emphatically for effect.

It was eight-thirty, still kind of early, but still not, after all, he was an early riser, that I already knew as he was an ecologist. Those types always got up at the crack of dawn, it was one of the attributes of people in those professions—'early to bed, early to rise, and your girl goes out with other guys,' was the rhyme I had heard so many times before. I listened as the number rang wondering if I was being a little too eager as I felt myself grow warm with excitement.

"Simmons residence, Wade speaking." I was puzzled. I looked at my phone and noticed I had called his landline rather than his cell. Duh!

"Wade, this is Robyn. I hope I didn't wake you," trying to sound sincere and apologetic.

"You didn't wake me, but I had a hard time sleeping last night. I kept thinking of this wonderful woman until I finally fell asleep, then she appeared in my dream."

I smiled, hardly able to keep from laughing at his not so veiled reference to me. But was it true? Had he really dreamed of me?

"Wade, you're so full of it, I'm not so sure I should believe you. You probably tell that to all the women you date," I teased.

"Guess that means you may have to see me a few more times to know for sure huh?" I could almost see the vulpine smile on his face.

"You know you may be right, I feel a need to be sure you're not leading me on. Maybe you should come to see me today."

"I could do that. I mean I would have to call Grace and tell her our date is off, but I guess I'm willing to do that."

I laughed, knowing there was no Grace. "You would be willing to do that for me? Really!"

"Well, it beats having to fight off all the guys that want to see you even when you tell them to go away," he replied lightly.

"Wade, I'm sorry about that."

"You know, I can't blame him after our date yesterday, I think you're well worth it."

I couldn't believe my ears. How did he manage to turn something that sounded like it would be a negative into a positive? I had to admit he scored points with me with the comment.

"If you come around eleven it will give me enough time to make lunch for us and my parents. Would you be up for that?"

"Sure, hard to pass up a meal and the promise of good company." He said with enthusiasm.

We talked for a few minutes more and then I walked out into the living room where my parents were sitting, reading the newspaper, and I sat down.

"I invited Wade to lunch, I can handle all the cooking myself. I guess what you already had planned for lunch would be best."

My mother looked up with a smile. "That's a great idea, I don't have to cook and it would be nice to see how well you remember what I taught you. Come on, I'll show you what I planned, there should be enough for four of us."

After my mother finished showing me what she was going to use I set about starting to prepare the meal. It felt good to be busy, helping the time to pass by productively, and before I knew it I had almost everything ready to go, waiting to be served while still warm. I glanced at the clock and noticed Wade should be arriving in just a few minutes.

Mother walked out and suggested she would start setting the table while I went in to change my clothes if I wanted to look a bit nicer—which I did. It wasn't much of a subtle hint on her part, another first as far as I could remember.

As I dressed I began to feel a bit...well...strange—kind of like those days when I had first started dating, the rush of excitement to be with my favorite crush. You know, like you just can't wait to have that person near you because he makes you feel so good. But I had gone through that stage long ago, and after many boyfriends who never made me feel the same way, I thought I was way past ever experiencing it again. Now, after a single date with Wade, the feeling reappeared with a vengeance—only now, it was not enough to simply be near him, I wanted to touch him, and be touched by him.

I walked back out into the living room and sat down, my anticipation growing by the minute—I noticed my foot rocking back and forth, hitting the chair leg slightly. Feeling a little embarrassed, I was doing the same thing as I had the day before, and I placed both my feet on the floor before my mother said something to me. I slowly turned my head around towards the dining room and saw my mother looking at me with a broad smile—I was sure she had seen my impatience. Then she walked over to me and said quietly enough that my father couldn't hear.

"You know. I used to do the same thing while waiting for your father. Look where that got me—twenty-seven years of marriage and a beautiful daughter."

I looked up and saw the happy expression on her face, her eyes tender as she looked at me. There wasn't a thing I felt I could say. I had my mother's graceful figure, her hair, and complexion. She had always said I had my father's eyes and easy-going demeanor and work ethic—comments that I had cherished as I grew up.

My father had always been on the quiet side, but when he spoke his words were well chosen and thoughtful, something that I admired. It was then I realized Wade was somewhat the same way—quiet, confident, thoughtful, and well-spoken.

Wade arrived a few minutes later and I walked out the door to meet him as he stepped out of his truck.

"Good morning," I said cheerfully.

"Good morning, I have to say you look and sound pretty chipper."

"I am, so, are you hungry. I've been busy making lunch and it's ready to serve. How does vegetable beef stew sound?"

"I am and it sounds good, I love stew. So, you made the meal yourself?" A hint of surprise showed in his voice.

"Hey, don't sound so surprised," I laughed.

"Sorry, my last girlfriend wasn't into cooking and I usually fixed any home-cooked meals we ate."

I didn't say anything—but now I knew he had had a girlfriend. Not that I hadn't expected anything different, but he hadn't mentioned one yesterday. No big deal, as up until two days ago I had a boyfriend and it didn't seem to make any real difference to him—well, other than the fact he had to deal with him yesterday.

As we started walking towards the door Wade put his arm around my shoulders. I don't know what the expression on my face showed, but the thrill of his touch definitely had an impact as my heart rate shot through the ceiling. Once inside, he shook hands with my father who had gotten up to meet him, and greeted my mother, holding her hand gently for a few moments. I could see she was pleased as she turned to me.

"Robyn, why don't you show Wade to the bathroom so he can wash his hands before we sit down to eat. Your father and I will wait at the table."

I showed Wade to the guest bathroom and told him I would wait outside in the dining room as I closed the door behind me and waited at the end of the hallway until he came out. We walked to the dining room and I was surprised as we went to sit down as he held the chair for me as I sat down. I had observed my father do this for my mother so often over the years, it never occurred to me until then that someone would do it for me—I mean Tim had never done it even though he had eaten with my family numerous times.

We ate slowly, the conversation revolving around the proposed management plans the Forest Service had presented, my parents had read up on it in the newspaper and had asked me a few more questions too. Wade's sense of self-deprecating sense of humor came out a few times as he spoke about the plan—suggesting he was invited to become a major author as he had more time than anyone else rather than expertise. I certainly knew that wasn't true based upon my reading of the plan and the time he had spent explaining it to me at the Wooden Spoon.

I was gratified that Wade took a second helping of stew and complimented me on how good it tasted. My mother, not missing a beat, suggested I was very skilled at cooking and baking. Wade looked at me with a smile.

"Well, I'm impressed with the meal and she's good company too. I'm thinking I might take her out for the afternoon to show my appreciation. That is if she's interested in spending time taking a walk and maybe later watching a movie or something we both find interesting on TV at my apartment."

We were soon out the door. My jeans and blouse weren't too dressy for a walk and spending time at his apartment appealed to me too. The two of us alone would offer more time to get to know one another. We bid my parents goodbye and headed towards Alton passing Tim's house on the way. Wade was watching the road while he asked me if I wanted to walk the trail to my favorite spot.

"That sounds great to me, my shoes are good enough for that section of the trail."

We pulled into the parking lot at the trailhead about ten minutes later and got out of the truck. It was a beautiful afternoon, blue sky with puffy white clouds, with barely a breeze, the temperature in the mid-seventies. Wade let me set the pace as we started up the trail side by side at a slow walk. I was in no particular hurry as we had all the time in the world and after lunch, I felt a bit drowsy anyway.

We passed another couple coming from the other direction and shared a smile and hello as we approached. As we made way by stepping to the side of the trail Wade reached down for my hand to guide me. I instinctively took it as the couple passed, the thrill of holding hands suffused my being—I prayed he wouldn't let it go. We stepped back onto the trail and began walking again—my prayer answered as we continued forward.

We talked quietly as we walked, pointing out things we noticed—a small brownish butterfly with a pattern of eyes on its wings, a pinkish-gray mushroom protruding from the leaves, an almost invisible Grey Tree-frog that I couldn't believe Wade had spotted on the trunk of a maple tree. We reached the stream and log where I liked to sit and made ourselves comfortable as we watched the black-winged iridescent jewels that doubled as damselflies as they flew over the rippling clear water.

I sat on the log and Wade sat on the ground to one side of me, we remained silent, each of us in our own thoughts. After a minute, I absently put my hand on his shoulder and rubbed softly. It wasn't until a few seconds later that I recognized what I had done as his hand came to cover my own—I caught my breath, not daring to move, afraid of breaking the spell.

We continued to sit without speaking, his fingers gently caressing the top of my hand. The thought entered my mind about how good his hands would feel if they were caressing the soft rounded curves of my breasts, or the soft, smooth skin of my thighs, his fingers playing amid the hair near my lips. I felt myself grow warm with the thoughts—the warmth settling low down between my hips. I felt the need to squirm as I realized how aroused I was getting.

I took my hand from beneath his and slid off the log to sit beside him. He looked at me with a smile and I leaned forward as his arm came around my shoulders. I lay my head down and closed my eyes, the warmth of bodies where we touched a signal of our closeness. I could hear the water burbling, the leaves gently rustling overhead, then the gentle pressure as his arm pulled me just a little tighter against him. I took in a deep, silent breath, releasing it slowly to maintain the illusion I was in control—even though I knew I was so close to not being in control at all. My body purred, telling me it was happy to be here, happy to be held so gently, so affectionately. I felt Wade move a little, then his voice soft near my ear.

"I like it when you talk to me this way."

"I can't help it, donut man," I replied softly.

I felt him chuckle quietly. Then, when I opened my eyes and turned my face towards him I saw a broad grin below those wonderful ice-blue eyes. Those soft, tender, caring eyes that seemed to see right into me—eyes that I hoped weren't seeing my growing desire. I had to hold myself back, it was too soon, it had to be, I closed my eyes again. I don't know how long I had been dozing when I heard his voice, as if distant.

"Okay. We should get going before you fall asleep Robyn. I know I'm not the most exciting company," as he shrugged his shoulder a little to rouse me.

He stood and pulled me up with seeming ease. We started walking back towards the parking lot as he reached for my hand. As we arrived at the lot I saw a pickup truck that looked like Tim's, I couldn't be sure as it pulled out just as we crested a hill that had blocked my view. When we got to the truck it didn't take but a few seconds to see a flat rear tire. I watched as Wade bent down to look at the tire and ran his hand over the tread and then stopped, his hand going to the sidewall. He stood up, his face was stoic.

"Time to change a tire I guess."

I watched as he went about getting the spare tire out from under the truck bed as I retrieved the jack from under the hood. When I took it to him he smiled.

"Thanks. You know you're good to have around."

I was deeply troubled as I didn't know if I should tell him I thought I saw Tim pulling out of the parking lot. Could Tim really be that small a man? I was beginning to wonder what I had ever seen in him. I stood by and held the lug nuts in my hand as Wade removed them, then handed them back as he mounted the spare tire. I had to admit Wade seemed to handle the situation with aplomb. No swearing or sign of anger at what had happened. I wondered if he would react the same way if he thought Tim was responsible.

When he was finished we put the jack away and closed the hood before getting into the cab after cleaning our hands with wet wipes. Once we had buckled in he looked at me.

"I think Tim is going to be a problem for a while. I saw him leaving as we approached the parking lot. It appears the tire was punctured by a knife—you don't get something like that in the middle of a sidewall while driving. He must really be upset that you're with me. Good for him, he knows he screwed up big time."

"Wade you're not mad? I mean he ruined a perfectly good tire."

I watched as a smile crossed his face. "Yeah, he got some satisfaction, but you're here with me, not with him, I got more. I came out on top by a long shot."

I wanted so much to lay a huge, wet, kiss on him. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would hear something like that said about me. If I had had any reservations about how I was feeling about him they disappeared at that instant. But now I wondered.

"Are you going to try and get him back?"

"No, that is if you mean am I going to physically confront him again. There are better ways to deal with him that will hurt him more. I think the rumor mill will take care of things once it gets out what he did and why. Don't you?" he replied with a small, satisfied smile.

"Yes. Yes, I think you're right. He has a pretty good-sized ego, it could use a little deflating."

He looked at me. "That was a terrible pun."

We laughed together, putting the incident behind us.

We arrived at his apartment about thirty minutes later and walked in not sure what we would do. Not that several ideas hadn't entered my mind during the drive from the trailhead. I was increasingly aware I was quickly being drawn into Wade's sticky web—and I had always read it was the female spider that did the eating of her suitor.

We decided to play a few games of backgammon before watching TV. We sat at the kitchen table and started playing, Wade taking the first game, then I took the second, laughing and sharing good-natured banter as we rolled the dice. I had been sitting with my leg under me on the chair and my leg had started to ache, Wade was in the lead at the time, and as I stood I caught the edge of the board enough to flip it, spilling many of the game pieces onto the floor.

I reacted with a little screech, "Oh no! Wade I'm so sorry. I've messed up the game," as I quickly dropped to my knees next to the table to retrieve the scattered game pieces. I was gathering several pieces as I saw Wade's hand doing the same. With the pieces in hand, I stood up on my knees and found my face just inches away from Wade's as he was on his knees too.

"Wade, I really didn't mean to..." as I looked into his eyes, 'I...I..."

I felt his sweet breath on my face mixed with just a hint of his shampoo, then I looked down almost embarrassed that we were so close, inches apart, my hands released the game pieces and they hit the floor with a hollow sound, as my hands went to his shoulders to steady myself, my head rose up to meet his lips as my eyes closed. I felt our bodies come together as his hands came to my hips, his lips firm and moist on mine. I slowly pulled away and opened my eyes, my heart beating hard in my ears, my body awash in warm tingles—a last remnant of the electricity now fading away from the kiss. His eyes opened and we stood on our knees looking at each other, then I closed my eyes again and leaned towards him—the same wonderful, warm sensations filled me again as we kissed several more times. We slowly stood up, the game pieces left on the floor, the board game no longer of significance.

I was almost shaking with excitement at what had just happened and I was struggling to say something intelligent. Something that made sense when my mind was still reeling now that I had kissed my donut man—the man I had fantasied about two nights in a row—he would never know he had given me two wonderful trips to a land of pleasure.