Jeeves Arranges it All.

After Jeeves left it seemed that I was on my own. Cameron was on my sofa, about one glass of wine away from alcohol poisoning. I gently took the bottle from her hand. "I think we might want this for later." I sounded like a cheesy seducer.

She pouted, probably one of her manipulations, long forgotten and rarely used. "Oh. I see. Can we still watch the show?" She had tucked her feet under one of the pillows and had wrapped herself up in a sofa throw, probably made of yak hair or something.

I turned to the TV set where one of the chefs was wrestling a giant squid. "I don't see how we could miss it."

She smiled, the sun shone and everything was once again all right. It was a tough balance keeping her happy. At first she just wanted someone to be kind to her. I'm not good at that stuff. I'm either incredibly granular or completely big picture. How people interact and social niceties, well, they're not really my forte. When did keeping her happy become so important?

Her eyes were fluttering with sleep and I had to decide. Do I make her leave or do I figure out how the two of us were to sleep together in the same room? She made no move towards departing; in fact she was the picture of contentment, all fuzzy in the corner of the horrible sofa. She wasn't going anywhere.

"So Cameron, it seems that you've set up light housekeeping here with me." I observed, keeping my tone light.

She started a bit, "Oh, right." She noticed that even though the chef had hacked it off with a large knife that the tentacle continued to move. "I guess I should go?" It was a question, not a statement.

Damn her for putting it all on me. No I didn't want her to go. I was actually having fun at one of the potentially deadliest weekends I've ever had. But I also wasn't about to start any romantic overtures, not the way things were between us. One spark and the whole thing could go up in flames.

I can come to snap decisions involving life or death, but when it comes to girls I get hopelessly tongue-tied. The sweet young thing says something, and it's the most charming thing you've ever heard. The correct response is a remark in kind, or even sweeping her into your arms. Except you've got to analyze it. Is it possible she's addressing me? Does she really mean what I think she means? Do I have something in my teeth? By the time you arrive at a course of action, her face has fallen, and she feels rejected. Often she's been out of the room for a good five minutes before you realize where you went wrong.

Again, I could see that lovely, sunny look she has darken. I had to say something, the right thing. "I don't know." That may not have been the right thing, but it wasn't nothing.

Now she was puzzled. That was better than disappointed. "Oh. What would you like me to do?"

I decided that a light and airy tone would be appropriate, "I'll leave it to you, what do you suggest that we do sleepyhead?" I mean, come on, all she needed was a candle and a tire; it was obvious that she was ready to go to sleep.

A shy smile came to her lips. "How about a cuddle party?" When she lowered her eyes, her lashes created a fan across the tops of her cheeks.

"What is a cuddle party?" It sounded obvious, but it also sounded ridiculous.

"It's a new fad," she informed, "a group of people get together, in their jammies, and they hug and cuddle." She blushed and continued in a small, quiet voice, "We're all a bit starved for human contact."

I put on my stone face. The one that masks what I'm thinking and feeling. I should take it to Atlantic City and try it at the poker tables. As usual, I was at a loss for words. Frankly, the idea was incredibly appealing. I was terrified that she'd want to have sex. Not that sex is so terrible, but it is complicated and I was enjoying an uncomplicated existence lately. But cuddling, that's different. It's intimate without all the heavy overtones. I finally found the words I needed, "Should we call Foreman and Chase? Make it a real party? I'll bet they can dig up some potato chips."

She giggled, much to my relief. "If you think the pull-out can hold us all."

"We'll invite them the next time." We got up and made up the bed. I repaired the bathroom to get into my 'jammies' and retuned to find her smiling angelically on her side of the bed. I closed my eyes and tried to think of baseball statistics.

I slid under the covers and lay there, staring at the ceiling thinking about Rod Carew. I think I waited for her to make the first move. I heard her sigh and then I felt her feet touching my calves. "Are they too cold?"

"No." I dared not say any more, I was afraid that my voice had already gone up an octave. I moved over towards her and she wrapped her legs around my leg and curled into me, resting her head on my chest. There was no other place for my arm but around her shoulders, and suddenly we were cuddling. I had forgotten how good it felt to hold someone.

"You're not so tough." She said while yawning. She gave me a squeeze and within a minute or so, she was breathing deeply and quietly; asleep.

I find it hard to live in the moment, to enjoy things as they occur. I think too much. I felt peaceful and happy with Cameron in my arms and I decided to close my eyes and turn my brain off.

When I woke up the sun filtered through partially opened blinds. Jeeves laid out breakfast on the glass topped table. Cameron happily spread jam on a piece of toast. "Rise and shine!" She fairly sang out.

Jeeves noiselessly set a place for me and I sat up and swung my legs over the bed. How do people get out of these contraptions without bruising and scraping themselves up? The sofa bed is Lucifer's footstool.

I put on my robe and took a dose of vitamin V. A cup of coffee and a piece of bacon made me decent company. "Did you sleep well?" I asked.

Cameron sipped her coffee and smiled, "very well."

There didn't seem to be anything more to say so we just ate in silence. Jeeves tidied up and put the bed together. I realized as the suitcases were pulled out, that we were about to make our escape.

Cameron sat back and looked at me. "So is this it?"

I picked up some toast crumbs with my finger and avoided her stare. It worked once, I thought I'd try it again, "I don't know."

She sighed. Light and shadow, this girl. "I don't want it to be."

The Vicodin had kicked in taking the edge was off making me feel mellow. I had learned over the years that I can't afford to get involved. You can't help them by empathizing with them. You can't help them by feeling their pain. But it wasn't about helping her. I decided to think about myself. "Me either."

"Okay." She perked up and sprung to her feet. She kissed me on the top of my head and headed for the door. "I'll see you later."

"Jeeves, I'm not entirely sure what just happened."

He poured me another cup of coffee. "I believe sir that Dr. Cameron enjoys your company."

It was that simple. It never occurred to me that she wanted companionship. What's so scary about that? "Oh. So what am I wearing for the ride back?"

A few pleasant hours later and I was back home with most of Sunday afternoon spend on my own, comfortable sofa. Jeeves attended to the baggage and I caught up on my reading.

Jeeves usually has Sundays off, so once he had squared away the wardrobe he took off for a night out. I had the windows open to enjoy the sounds of spring. Chirping crickets and the noise of kids out past their bedtime were soothing after such an active weekend.

I nursed a brandy and soda and leafed through Entertainment Weekly. There was a tap at my door. Right then I got a vibe, I knew it was her. I walked over to the peephole and looked out. She had leaned into the door so that all I could see was her eye.

I opened the door and motioned her in. She carried bags. She walked into the kitchen and I followed her, out of curiosity mostly. "I brought Chinese. I don't know about you, but I have a wicked craving for sweet and sour." She began to unpack the bags.

I watched her wordlessly. She made herself at home, getting out plates, and arranging the cartons on the counter. On one hand, I was hungry and it looked delicious. On the other I wondered what exactly she had assumed. I also wondered what I was assuming. She filled two plates and walked into the dining room.

I decided to be a good host and got some glasses and a cold bottle of chardonnay. I poured a bit in the glass for her and she picked it up and tasted it. "Oh, that has a lot of flavors in it."

"Good palate." I commented, and filled her glass, "where did you get the food from?" I picked up the chopsticks and inspected a dumpling.

She swallowed, "Golden Buddha, technically they're Korean, but they have the best food in town."

I nodded and ate some more. I wondered exactly what we had agreed to. Was she going to stay? Was I going to be her…boyfriend? A cold chill went through me; a boyfriend…at my age? None of it made any sense.

"Penny for your thoughts." She offered, nibbling through her sweet and sour.

I sipped the wine and grew thoughtful. What were my thoughts? Did I really want to share them with her? What if I said something wrong? Who was I kidding? I always said the wrong thing. That's why, in times of personal crisis, I clammed up. It makes you wonder, how do people know you're drowning, if you can't yell for help?

"I'm a bit overwhelmed." Brevity seemed safe.

"I know what you mean," she agreed. "I think you know what I want, but I understand if you're not ready just yet. How about we go slow? We're quiet and friendly now. I like that. It's easy on my nerves." She sipped her wine and waited.

"Easy on your nerves? You're rough on mine. I don't know what you want, or more precisely, I don't know why you want it. As I've frequently observed you're beautiful and gifted and you could have anyone and anything you wanted." There. I said it.

"What if I want to be with someone who challenges me?" She stood up and started to clear her plate.

I got up too. "Is that what it is?" It seemed strange to me. I'm an acquired taste, like lox or capers. How odd for Cameron to have acquired it.

"Yes. I have a brain too. You talk about me, and my body parts, like all that appeals to you is my appearance. But I know better. You appreciate my intellect." She smiled, "and you let me see a side of you that Chase and Foreman never will."

I put the plate in the sink. "Are you blackmailing me?" I ran some water on it and put it in the dishwasher.

She hit me in the arm and put her plate in the dishwasher next to mine. "What do you watch on Sunday night?"

I followed her into the den, "The Simpsons."

"Perfect." She handed me the remote and settled in on the sofa. "This is so comfortable." I don't think she meant the furniture.

I sat next to her, closer than I normally would have, and over the evening, she had managed merge into my space, her hand on my knee and her head on my shoulder. I realized that she was a warm person.

At about ten, Jeeves returned home. He popped his head into the den, "Good evening, sir, doctor." He included Cameron.

"Good evening, Jeeves." I said. "Have a nice night out?"

"Yes sir. I had an enjoyable time. I presume you did as well?" He quickly assessed the room to ensure that nothing had gotten mussed or untidy in his short absence.

"Yes, I can say we did. Dr. Cameron here brought over some take out and we've been watching trash on television."

He nodded, "indeed. Is there anything I can get you before I retire?"

"No thank you, Jeeves, I believe that Dr. Cameron and I are quite content. Sleep well."

He went back to his room and I returned to smelling Cameron's hair and trying to think of what the fragrance reminded me of.

"It was a good idea he had for me to bring over the Chinese." She said into my chest.

"Pardon me?" I didn't think that I heard her correctly.

"Jeeves. He told me that you would be alone tonight and suggested that I come by with dinner." She shifted herself so that she could face me.

"Jeeves told you to bring me dinner?" It didn't seem possible.

"Sure, before we left Vogler's." She got up and stretched. "So, do you want company tonight, or should I go home to sleep?"

"More cuddling?" I asked. I was still mulling over the whole Jeeves thing.

"Yes please," she implored. How could I say no? I'd remember to speak to Jeeves in the morning.