James climbed the stairs smiling. It had always been fun growing up with Elinor, even though at times she could be a bit bossy. He reckoned that was the way of older sisters. He entered the bathroom and turned the shower on, stepping back to take his clothes off before realizing he had none on. He shook his head as he pulled the curtain back and stepped under the spray. He let the water wash over him before gabbing the bar of soap and rubbing it into his hair. Taking the lather from his hair he washed his face with it and the stubble on his chin and jaw. He then started at his armpits, then worked his way down his body. Leaning against the wall he washed his feet last, running his fingers between his toes. He stood under the water for a few minutes letting it rinse the lather away.

He stepped out of the shower drying himself as he looked in the medicine cabinet mirror. He turned his head sideways, then to the other side before picking up the red and white stripped can of Barbasol and applying it to his face. He didn’t know why he had shaved, he never shaved this late in the day. He shrugged it off as he headed toward the bedroom to dress. He put on an old pair of Levi’s and a plaid shirt with flaps over the pockets and little pearl snaps to keep them closed. He pulled on his most comfortable pair of Tony Lamas and headed back down stairs.

“Clean,” he yelled as he hit the last step. “Ya ready for them steaks Rigby.”

“If you are,” she yelled back.

“Slap em on,” he said entering the kitchen.

Elinor picked up the plate holding the steaks and they walked out the back door.

“Leave em moo’in,” he said as the first steak sizzled on the hot grill.

“Kick’in and moo’in coming up.” She laughed as she tossed the second steak on.

“Ya know, this here man’s work.”

“What, heating up a piece of meat?”

James caught himself blushing, taking the meaning of what she had said the wrong way.

“You want to do it,” she asked handing him the long fork.

“No, your doing fine,” he said putting his arm around her shoulder.

“Humph,” was her only reply.

They let the steaks cook until the juice rose to the surface, then Elinor turned them and let them cook for a few more minutes. Hot and sizzling she forked them and put them back on the plate carrying them into the house. They sat at the table and taking a steak each began to eat.

“Ummm perfect,” James mumbled around the hot piece of steak in his mouth.

“Man’s work,” Elinor commented, snidely, smiling across the table at him.

They sat and ate in silence for a while, each wrapped in their own thoughts. James thinking about when she would leave, and what he would do when she did.

“So when’d you say you was leaving,” he said breaking the silence before stuffing a forkful of baked potato in his mouth. A touch of melancholy in his voice, his eyes looking down at his plate.