A Little More Personal

I led Taresa into the house, where we slid off our shoes; our fathers were in the living room, discussing cars and auto shows. My mother and Jenny poked her head into the hall.

"There you two are. Dinner will be done shortly."

Jenny smiled. "Reece, you do look beautiful tonight."

"Thanks, Mama, but that's a bit biased."

"It might be," she laughed, "but it's true. Now go. We'll call you in when dinner's done."

"Okay."

I touched Taresa's shoulder softly. "Come on. Let's leave them be."

"Where are we going?"

"To a little place I call my refuge."

"Your bedroom?"

"None other."

She gazed around, taking in the sight of an over-flowing clothes basket, un-made bed (even after five months), sheets of music, and CDs all over the floor. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth; I was mesmerised by her large, sparkling green eyes.

"This is . . ."

"A disaster zone?"

"Pretty much. Messy, is what I was going to say."

"That'd be too nice."

"True."

"Hang on. Hello?"

"Hey, Jay. You busy?"

"Uh, just a bit. Can I call you back later?"

Ashley sighed, jokingly. "Of course. Wait. What are you busy with?"

"I'll call you back."

"But---"

"Bye." I smiled sheepishly at Taresa. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine. You have friends. It's to be expected."

"So. Tell me something."

"Lke?"

"Why'd you come back?"

"My fiance and I separated permanently. So I came back to my parents' house until I find somewhere of my own."

"Fun."

"So what's you story? Where were you, and why'd you come back?"

"I moved away to find my own two feet. I came back for the holidays. Then I'm off to return to L.A."

"L.A., eh? The home of movie stars."

"I've met a few once or twice."

"Sweet. Who?"

"Um, you know the girl who played Jodie Foster's daughter in Panic Room?"

"Kristen Stewart?"

"Yep. I've met her."

"Lucky."

"She's pretty cool."

"Stop rubbing it in."