JEB! WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!?

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jeb-where-are-my-clothes

JEB! WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!?

Trilby awoke with a tremendous sneeze.

As always, everything was a blur. Even so, this was an unfamiliar blur. In fact, it was a rather drafty, unfamiliar blur.

Why was she so cold?

Where were her fleece pajamas?

Where was anything, for that matter?

Desperately, she began feeling around for her nightstand.

No nightstand. No glasses. No clothes.

No clothes?

What in the world was going on?

She was beginning to panic.

“Trilby, are you awake?”

Jeb? Was she still at Jeb’s house?

Why was she naked at Jeb’s house?

Did she get lucky?

‘Oh, my God! Did I get lucky with Jeb and it was so phenomenal that I’ve lost my memory? Is that a thing?’

“Trilby, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“No. I kind of woke up on my own.”

“Oh, okay. I made you some breakfast if you want to come out.”

“I’m having a hard time finding my glasses, Jeb.”

“I stuck them in the top drawer of the dresser for you. You were kind of wound up last night. I was afraid you’d break them.”

Trilby squinted to try to identify the dresser. “Hang on.”

“Okay, I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

“Jeb, please wait there a minute.”

“Okay. Don’t worry. I’ll be right out here.”

‘Don’t worry? I’m freezing here.’ She climbed out of the enormous bed and felt her way to the dresser.

She pulled the drawer open and felt around. There they were. Now to put some detail to this mystery.

“Doing alright?” He called out.

“JEB! WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!?”

“Well, your pants, your underpants and your socks are in the dryer. There are t-shirts in the third drawer down and l left one of my flannel shirts on the chair.”

“What about my shirts?”

“I’ve got what’s left of them folded up on the counter out here in case you wanted to file a consumer complaint.”

‘What’s left of them? What the hell went on last night? Did Jeb rip my shirt and my chemise off? Did I rip my shirt and my chemise off?’ She took a moment to pick one of his tees. It fit her like a party dress. A really baggy party dress. She could cinch it with a belt and it would still be tastefully mid-thigh. “Um, thanks? You can come in.”

He cracked the door and backed into the room slowly. “Are you sure?”

“I’m decent. You can turn around. Although, I’m kind of wondering what you might have already seen.”

“I didn’t peek, Trilby. I promise. Everything happened so fast.”

“Yeah, about that.”

“Are you alright? You really gave me a heck of a scare.”

She looked up at that glorious face and suddenly she didn’t care. She did, but she didn’t. “I’m sorry. Whatever it was, I didn’t mean it?”

“How much do you remember?” He walked over to the chair and grabbed the flannel shirt.

She shuddered with confusion and excitement as he wrapped it gently around her shoulders. This was almost as titillating as when she hugged him at The Marbury on Sunday. She was having difficulty caring about anything but the muscular arms that were encircling her.

“Remember? Um, I came out here to visit around suppertime. You had made some steaks and brewed me a pot of tea. We walked around the grounds to see the lights you had put up. They were lovely. You showed me the bear you were working on. It’s a masterpiece. After that, I’m not really sure.”

“Okay, well, that’s when things got a bit…hectic.” He guided her toward the bedroom door. “Let’s have some breakfast and I’ll see if I can fill in some of the blanks for you.”

“Jeb, did I hit my head again? What happened?”

“It’s probably best if you sit down and get comfortable. I’ll bring you a tray table.” He led her carefully to a stuffed recliner.

She sat down and he pulled the lever for the footrest.

‘Oh, my God. I did. I must have hit my head and had some kind of psychotic break. What’s he going to think of me if we can’t get through an evening without me wigging out on him. Why can’t I remember anything?’

She was sitting there in the cushy recliner trying to maintain her composure while he frittered around in the kitchen.

“Is it okay if I microwave your tea? It might take a couple of minutes if I use the kettle.”

“Microwaved is fine. What’s for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs, toast and-”

“Do you have preserves? I’m really sensitive to chemicals.”

“I remember. I’ve got some of Mrs. Lu’s peach preserves. She gave them to me as a thank you gift for fixing her sock drawer.”

“That sounds nice. Thank you.”

“Sure. I’ve also got some sausage if you want it.”

She grabbed the arms of the chair and kicked her legs wildly. The thought had occurred to her that perhaps she’d already had some.

“Are you okay over there?”

“Sorry, had an itch.”

“Oh, okay. Let me just get this put together for you. I’m sorry. Did you want some sausage?”

‘Boy, do I ever.’ She set that aside and sucked a deep breath to try to get herself back under control. “Sure, thanks.”

She was transitioning from hyperventilation to slow controlled breaths when he arrived with the tray table. It had carved rests that fit the arms of the chair exactly. He must have created this himself. Gorgeous, handy and creative. What else could any woman ask for in a giant hunk of a man?

“Thank you, Jeb. You’re very kind to take such good care of me.”

“I never really had friends. I figured this is how I should treat someone I care about.”

She froze for a second and then melted away inside. “That’s so sweet, Jeb. I’m very lucky to have a friend like you.”

“Why don’t you dig in a while?”

“I feel as if this is leading up to something.”

“We should probably go over the stuff that’s missing from what you remember.”

“Yes, you should probably break that to me slowly. Did Mrs. Lu say what she put in these preserves?”

“Not really. I guess it’s just peaches and sugar. Maybe some cinnamon? Some pectin? I can just get you some butter.”

“No, I’ll take my chances. This smells really good.”

“Okay, so, we went to look at the bear and then I was showing you around the part of my workshop where I finish the smaller pieces.”

“Like the stuff you’re selling at the bakery.” She finished her toast and moved on to the eggs.

“Yes. That’s right. I had some candles lit.”

“You were trying to create some ambiance.”

“No, I just like the way they smell. Since they give off light anyway, I left the lights off.”

“It was romantic anyway.”

“I didn’t mean to mislead you. I seem to be giving people the wrong signals. I’m not used to any of this, actually.”

“Any of what?”

“Socializing. Having friends over. Talking with girls, I mean, ladies, friends, um…”

Trilby almost choked on his sausage. “Friends with benefits?” She coughed violently.

“Do you need me to give you the Heimlich?”

“No.” She gasped. “I’m alright.”

“I don’t know what that is. I just meant lady friends or any kind of friends. I’ve been out here by myself and I was fairly happy with that.”

Trilby drank some tea to wash down the embarrassment she was feeling. “But you’re not happy anymore?”

“Less than before, I guess.”

“So, what is it I’m not remembering?”

“Right. Yeah, about those candles…”

She tried to remember the sequence of events after the bear. They were in the room with the candles. What happened?

“So, you bent over to smell one of the candles.”

That’s right. She wanted to know what the blue one smelled like.

“But you bent over some other candles to do it.”

Why would she do that? Maybe Marta was right to treat her like a helpless little kid. How was she supposed to satisfy a man like Jeb if she couldn’t even smell a candle without…what?

“Whatever your shirt was made of…”

That stupid shirt that Marta said looked so cute on her. Why would she wear a v-neck? She had no chest. There was no cleavage to show off. It was some kind of pretend silk polyester crap with tiny plastic sequins to make it more shimmery. Right over an open flame.

“Oh, my God! I set myself on fire!”

“Kind of. Whatever that shirt was made of, it blasted off of you like that flash paper that stage magicians use, but then your undershirt caught on fire.”

Her chemise. She was starting to remember. The flames on her chemise were almost pretty but the sight of it threw her into a blind panic. She ran out of the workshop and belly-flopped onto a snowbank. It put out the flames but she went almost immediately into hypothermia.

“I was going to smother the flames with my shirt but you bolted outside before I could even get it off. I wrapped you up in it and brought you in the house.”

“What about my pants and socks?”

“You dove into a snowbank. They were soaked and they were keeping you from warming back up. I held up a blanket so you could get them off in private.”

Rats! He didn’t peek after all.

“Once you were out of your wet clothes, I wrapped you up in that blanket and sat you down here. We had some more tea to try to warm you up.”

Nothing. She must have been so stressed out that she just blocked the rest of the evening from her mind. “So, how’d I get in the bed?”

“Once I was sure you were all dried up and back to a normal body temperature, I carried you to the bed and tucked you in.”

“And you didn’t peek?”

“I promise.”

“Not even a little tempted?”

“Well, of course I was tempted, but what kind of friend would I be if I did? I wouldn’t invade your privacy like that.”

“You’re a wonderful man, Jeb. Very few guys would be so honorable.”

“Thank you. I never realized what I’ve been missing by not having friends.”

‘Just friends? Well, I guess I have to start somewhere.’

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