She's Not a Fan

Chapter 15

Sarah pulled into Mike’s driveway about an hour later.  The directions were easy to follow.  It started to lightly snow so she had driven carefully, enjoying the scenery. 

She showered, changed into comfortable jeans and a warm flannel shirt, and felt a bit more confident.  Nothing like sexy underwear and warm flannel to boost your confidence, she laughed to herself.

Mike’s driveway was a short laneway among the trees.  Most of the leaves had fallen so it was easy to see the sprawling ranch house at the end of the driveway.  The lawn was lush green with a sprinkling of snowflakes. 

The house was long and low, with large windows.  Two chocolate brown urns, filled with a cascade of bright orange fall flowers, flanked a rustic stone walkway.  A small sitting area, with two inviting wooden chairs, ballooned out in stone, off to the right of the front door. 

She felt calmer as she showered and changed, but as she approached the front door, the butterflies started up again.  Put her in front of a blood spewing lacerated carotid artery and she was fine.  Ask her for dinner and she’s a wreck, she thought with chagrin. 

As she reached out to knock on the front door, Mike opened it and smiled.  “Hi.  Any trouble finding the place?” he asked. 

“None.  It was easy,” she answered and stepped into Mike’s front hall.

She handed him a bakery box of desserts and was distracted by the view at the back of the house.  “Oh, this is beautiful.”

The front hall opened up into an open concept space with a large sitting area to the right and kitchen to the left.  A stone fireplace in the far wall of the sitting area stretched to the ceiling.  Flanking either side, were two large picture windows with a view to the Charlebois River.  The sun was setting, leaving a sky blazing with brilliant bright orange and pink streaks of light.  The silhouette of the trees off in the distance created a black skyline to the glorious pinks and oranges reflected in the water.

“The sky puts on a colourful show most nights,” Mike said as he followed her gaze.  He took her coat and hung it on a row of hooks near the door.  She wandered over to the windows to look out at the sky.  A fire crackled quietly in the fireplace.

Mike came up beside her and handed her a glass of wine. 

“Thank you.  How do you ever get anything done?  I think I would spend all my time admiring the view.  Or is that the point?  You come home to relax,” she said.

He nodded.  “Yeah.  During the season, we’re away a lot, but when we are in town, it’s great to have a place like this to come home to.  I have steaks on the barbeque.  I just have to check on them.”  He opened French doors to a patio at the back.

She wandered with him over to the kitchen.  It was a mix of modern and traditional.  Elegant olive coloured cabinets stretched to the ceiling and contrasted with a wide expanse of light coloured granite countertops.  Two coach glass pendants hung over an island separating the kitchen from a little nook filled with a square, chocolate brown dining table.  Olive place mats, with a glitter of gold, were set out neatly on the table and small candles flickered in the center.   Soft jazz music filled the room.  She sighed with pleasure and relaxed.  

Mike carried in the steaks.  They were steaming hot and the smell wafted in and had her stomach grumbling.  He put them on two plates, and adding salad from a bowl on the counter, they sat down together. 

“You mentioned you grew up on a farm?” Mike asked as he picked up his knife and fork.

“Two hundred acres of canola.” She smiled.