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[2010.11.15][1647][25115]
“It would be nice if another family could use the house.  A family like us.”  Rold bit his lip and addressed Marge.  They stood in front of the garage.  Marge didn’t seem particularly enamoured of the house, but Rold could not tell if she needed encouragement or if she simply was the kind of person who was not particularly expressive with strangersl.  He decided to continue talking.  “There’s the garage.  Hare’s fixed it up.  He’s kind of my brother.”  Short sentences seemed to be working well with Marge.  She had seemed less responsive after she had met Hare in the kitchen “by accident.”
The noise of a mechanical motor startled Rold and Marge.  The opening garage door revealed Hare’s form.  Out of the apron, his trousers appeared tight around his shapely legs.  His tight tank top didn’t hide his sweaty torso.  Clearly, Hare had been working quite hard on something in the garage.  “Oh, hi Marge!”  As the door continued lifting up and away, Hare leaned gently against the station wagon, flexing his shoulder muscles.  Once the garage door was fullly open,  Hare strutted ed out of the garage to greet Rold and Marge.  “Taking a look at the garage?”  He wiped a hand across his sweaty brow,
Marge blinked rapidly.  “Yes!  Its lovely.  You did this yourself?”
“Improved on it.  Put shelves in, organized things.”  Grinning, he held a hand towards her.  “Do you want to see?”
Blushing, she put her dainty hand in his larger paw.  “That would be lovely.”
“Of course.”  Hare maintained eye contact with her while gripping her hand lightly.  “I’m sure its not as lovely as your garage.”
“Oh we don’t have one,”  she tittered.  “It would be lovely to have a garage, we can barely park the car in the city!”
They both giggled at each other as if they were close friends.  Behind Marge, Rold went unnoticed by either of Marge or Hare.  He slowly began to pack away from the pair, who remained staring into each other’s eyes and smiling.  He offered a plausible excuse, “I’m going to go see if we still have cookies left over.”  Pressing his lips together, Rold shrugged.  “Not that anyone’s listening to me.”  Rold scampered back to the house, his sneakers squeaking against the shiny asphalt.
“Shall we?”  Hare asked Marge, his dimples showing as he pulled her away from their staring match.
She acquiesced and he first showed her the outside of the garage, pointing out the matching colors and features of both the house and the garage.  The single car garage didn’t only hold the station wagon, it functioned as a shed as well, with tools and cleaning supplies lined up to one side.  There were also quite a few boxes and flattened boxes in a corner.
“One great advantage of the garage is having all of this extra storage space.  I know the realtor probably said that you can fit two cars in here, but I find it nice to have the space.”  Pointing out the boxes, he nodded.  “We’ve already started packing, and its nice to have things and boxes we’re already done with in the garage.  Instead of having to live side by side with the mess we’re creating in packing our lives away, we get to stick it in here.”
“You all are moving?”  Concerned, Marge bit her upper lip.
“My dad and gramps are getting on in age, and since they’re already retired, they want to downsize our lives, get to someplace warmer.”  Hare exhaled loudly.  “How warm all depends.  Yeah, we’re moving as soon as we sell.  I think we’ll sell soon, though and to nice people.  I mean, you’re here, aren’t you?”
Marge nodded, “There is that.”
“Was their anything else you wanted to see?”  Sticking his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head to the side.  “I guess you’ve seen everything there is to see in the house.”
“No, I’ve seen enough.”  She replied softly.
“Let me walk you back to your car.”
Side-by-side, they strolled back to her car at the curb.  He glanced straight ahead at her compact car, while she snuck sly glances at his face and body.  The neighborhood was quiet, no cars drove past as they walked, no children or people seemed to be wandering around.  As she reached her car, she went to the driver’s side.
“Your house is really nice and this neighborhood seems great.  So quiet.”  She lowered her eyelids demurely.
“That’s one of the things I love about it, too.”  Over the car hood, he gazed into her eyes after she raised her head.  Turning slightly away as if in pain, he remarked, “I guess you should get going.”  He began to walk to the house, but turned back to say, “I hope you liked the tour.  Will I see you again?”  
“Oh no, saw all I needed to see.”  Marge blushed.
“Nice to meet you, Marge.”  
“Oh you, too.”  
Fumbling with her keys, she opened the door after some difficulty.  She got into her car and drove away.  Watching her go, Hare let out a great sigh.  He flexed his bicep once, then headed into the house through the front door where Harold, Rold and Harry awaited his arrival.  An arm over his face, Rold lay splayed on the floor while Harry sat up straight in the arm chair, still in his dressing gown and slippers and holding a tea cup and saucer.  
Harold spoke first from the window seat.  “Looked like that was going well.”
“Brilliant.”  Harry intoned.  “Absolutely brilliant, old chap.”
“Was I doing it right?”  He blushed.  “I’m not sure if I was coming across as, y’know, sexy versus uncomfortable and sweaty.”
“Why, old boy, I am quite certain you played Romeo to a tee.”  Harry took a sip from his tea.  “Shakespeare would be proud!  A veritable Casanova, you were, blimey!”  Harry shook his head sadly.  “And I, up there, scuffling about in my dressing gown.  Horrors!  Do I really have to play the ailing father, loves?”
“Right.  Blimey.”  Rold snorted.  “You can quite it with the Brit acting.  It didn’t work on her, and its not going to work on anyone.  I’m pretty sure it will work on no one.”
Ignoring Rold and Harry’s antics, Harold reassured Hare, “She seemed really . . . into you.  That’s what the kids are saying these days, right?  Into you?”
Distracted by Harold’s possible faux pas, Rold affirmed, “Yup, she was totally into you, Hare.  I knew you should take the shirt off.  Show off the arms and stuff.  How did you get sweaty?  That was genius.”
Face turning red, Hare admitted, “I did some push-ups and lifted some boxes.  I ran a little bit around the yard, too, after I got the apron and shirt off.”  Sitting beside Harry on the couch, he grudgingly said, “I think I was attracted to her.”
“That probably helped,”  Harold shrugged.  “Couldn’t have hurt.  She’s also pretty.”
“In that married way, guys.”  Putting an arm over his face, Rold deadpanned from the floor.  “Married lady.  Hands off.”
“Rold’s right, me boys.”  Harry gripped the teacup’s handle and lifted his pinky.  “We should not lust for the lasses who are taken.  Its simply not proper.”  He took a loud sip of his Earl Gray tea.
Hare glared at Harry.  “I also think you should stop pretending to be British.”
“Nonsense and poppycock.”  Harry drained the remaining contents of his tiny cup.
“Seriously, dont’ think its useful.”  Hare steepled his hands.  “Anyone think she’s going to buy?”
They all looked helplessly at each other.  The afternoon sun still shined into the room from the various windows, brightening the wallpaper and furniture.  The practiced eye of a real estate agent could easily see how hard the Harolds had worked at making the living room, dining room and kitchen distinct, yet part of the same design scheme a difficult feat with a closed floor plan.
Harold got up from the window seat.  “There will be other buyers, I think.  The realtor made it sound as if she really wanted to buy, though.”  Stretching his arms upwards, he exhaled.  “I hope she still feels that way after our little production.”  He wandered to the basement stairs.
Hare, Harry and Rold remained in their spots.  After the events of the afternoon, doing anything more involved than lying down did not seem to be in Rold or Harry’s plan.  Rold remained prone, not collecting dust, but certainly not doing anything more involved than breathing.  With no more tea left in his cup, Harry simply rested on the couch, his hands supporting the saucer as his expression got blanker and blanker.  
Hare sighed and kicked up and away from the couch.  “I’m thinking of packing some more tools away.  I’ll be in the garage if anyone needs me.  Or wants to join me.”  After that announcement, he left for the garage, grabbing a jacket on the way out.
Abandoned for the moment, Harry and Rold did not acknowledge each other’s presence, merely enjoyed the peace and quiet.  The suburb was a man-made subdivision, and had few loud distractions or any distractions, really.  They easily heard the sounds which Harold made in the basement and Hare’s footfalls through the grass and on the asphalt as he headed towards the garage.  
The harmony was finally broken by Harry.  “In England, they call cigarettes . . . tabs”  He lifted his saucer up in an informal salute.  “Crazy innit?”
“You’re not British!  Cut it out.”  Unseen under his arm, Rold rolled his eyes at Harry’s antics, finding Harry’s persistence amusing if somewhat annoying.  Rold unfolded and peeled himself off the floor.  “I’m gonna pack more books upstairs.”  He clomped up the stairs loudly.
Left behind, Harry placed the saucer on the coffee table.  Happily groaning, he settled in for a nice afternoon nap free of any nagging or work.

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