Mr. Smith is at Home

This story starts here.

From that night on, we saw each other several times a week for several months. We had a great relationship and talked about everything. Now, he wants to live together. I rather like that idea. We decided to live in my house until we could find something more suitable for us. My house has an extra bedroom that can be turned into an office. His house was very small. If we would decide to get married at some point, we would look for a four bedroom house not too far from here.

We settled into a very comfortable routine. I would greet him as "Mr. Smith." "Welcome home, Mr. Smith," I would say. After our first week together, the phone rang. When I answered it, I heard the following:

"Is Mr. Smith at home, please."

This sounded much too familiar from all those months ago with my stranger in the storm. But, this time, I answered "Why yes, he is at home."

"Very good, ma'am." and the line went dead.

I never received another phone call like that nor did I ever see my trenchcoated friend. When we first met, Bill had made a joke about him being my guardian angel. Maybe he was right. He was just a little early when he first showed up.