| Current mood: |  optimistic |
a long weekend
Just came in from a weekend at Rudi's. I must say I wasn't expecting to spend the whole weekend there; in fact I rather expected we would watch Sense and Sensibility, have our Serious Talk, and then I would go home, alone, to resume battle with the thesis early Saturday morning. If any part of this agenda was to be skipped it was the film.
But Rudi seems to have finally grasped that there was something seriously wrong, and has made comprehensive amends. Pushed the relationship reset button, one of my friends at Cambridge used to call it. I think spending three days at home - alone, but at least he was resting - recuperating from the assault may have given him time to think things through.
In any event, when I arrived, spot on time as usual, I could hear a bath running in the apartment, which I found odd. But when Rudi opened the door and took my coat, he said that he'd heard from Travers in passing that we'd met to discuss my "Alternate Theories of Vampirism". (I suspect Travers asked him to see if he could talk some sense into the girl.) So he thought, he said, that I might appreciate a chance to relax before dinner, and had drawn me a bath.
He'd also bought my favourite bath oil - White Ginger - and had even lit some candles around the wainscotting in the bathroom, and laid out a huge fluffy bath towel I had no idea he had. He may have bought that as well. With all these preparations I half-expected him to climb in with me, but he made no attempt, just stood aside to allow me in and came by a couple of minutes later, when I was settled into the tub, with a mug of hot tea with sugar. Which, as you know, I vastly prefer to wine when I'm under stress - alcohol just makes me maudlin.
It was utterly blissful. It was so perfect, in fact, that I wondered if he had been secretly reading Cosmopolitan in the Underground shops for advice on how to deal with cranky females. I can't say I care if he had. I could feel the tension draining out out of me as I lay back in the tub. Eventually the water began to cool and I regretfully pulled myself out. I could hear him at the door while I dressed again, feeling relaxed to the bones. I came out into the parlour and found him arranging a tray of Indian food on the table by the sofa.
He looked up and said "I thought we could eat while we watched the film."
It smelled heavenly. I sampled a - I don't know what you'd call it, it was a cauliflower piece marinated in something wonderful and baked in a batter. I took another. "This is delicious," I managed to say after the second, restraining myself from simply diving into the rest of the tray. "You ordered in?"
""Amerjit recommended the place," he said. "I thought it would be pleasant to try it out."
I looked around and saw an empty bag on the kitchen counter, labelled "Vama". Even I have heard of Vama's.
When I looked back he was pouring me a fresh cup of tea. "Shall we?" he said, handing it to me, and gestured towards the sofa.
I sat. "If you're trying for a reconciliation," I said, "you're going about it the right way."
He smiled at me, that heartstopping innocent grin that always - oh, never mind. I could go on but you can fill in without my help, I'm sure. "I certainly hope so," he said, and put the film into the machine.
He settled down beside me on the sofa and reached for a plate. I was feeling a bit swept off my feet, I admit, and concerned that I would not be able to say what I wanted to say, swamped as I was by all this attentive consideration. I opened my mouth, not sure how to say this but determined to try, but before I could speak Rudi looked at me again and said,
"I have behaved badly and I must apologize. We need to talk seriously about this, and other things. But I know that you've had a stressful day, and I'm not entirely recovered from recent events myself. So I hoped that this evening we could simply enjoy each other's company, retire early , and then tomorrow, perhaps, go for a long walk and talk things through."
I'd twitched a bit at "retire early" and he added, "of course you can go home if you wish, but I hoped you would stay here."
I looked at him; he was looking at me soberly, but turned away from me to serve the food. I thought about how much I missed him. "Let's see how we feel after the film," I said.
Obviously, since I haven't been home since Friday, I succumbed. As if there was any doubt. I'll tell you about the conversation we had Saturday later - I must begin my rewrite. I want to submit a revised chapter to Travers on Tuesday, though that might be over-optimistic.
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
watchergrrl) wrote,
