Coming over to stand beside him, she had her hands in her pockets as well. Pockets that she had hidden in the seams of her long dress. It was a light emerald green velvet with leg-of-mutton sleeves, high lace-trimmed collar, and tight-fitting waist. The long skirt was A-line and the dress was one of her favourites. She'd had many compliments on it but few people were aware that she had made it herself. She had chosen to wear her hair loose, pulled up on the sides and secured with rhinestone combs. It fell in waves to her waist behind. She knew the dress gave her an old-fashioned air.
"How can I thank you, McKinnon? This is like a dream come true for me."
"You mean you haven't been writing down every night for thirty-three nights that you have a house just like this one?"
"No, I'm afraid not. So far, it was just a thought. But then, thoughts are things, so here's my house!" She twirled around in delight, taking in the kitchen cupboards, new stove and fridge, and the braided rug where her table and chairs would sit.
She stopped short when she felt McKinnon's hand on her shoulder.
"About the thanks you were going to give me. It's strange, but I feel like a frog. Do I look like a frog to you?"
He had turned her to face him, and she looked up at his warm smile.
"I'm catching the drift, McKinnon, and I'm thinking I should probably go home and pack now. Besides, you look a bit more like a wolf than a frog at the moment."
His hand was still on her shoulder, and he lifted her chin with his fingers. Tipping her face up, he bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips.
"Never a wolf with you, Little Witch. I just wanted to see if the reality came near to the dream. That little sample told me all I wanted to know." Stepping back, he said matter-of-factly, "Time to go, I guess."
Charly was still standing, rooted to the spot. The thought had crossed her mind in the past few days that if she and McKinnon continued to see each other, at some point he would probably try to kiss her. She just wasn't prepared for it yet.
Grinning at her, he said, "Coming, Charly?"
Moving towards the door, she blushed and answered, "Coming, McKinnon."
Saturday passed like a whirlwind as she packed all of her things, chattered endlessly to her mother about her new house, and watched boxes pile up near the door, ready for moving. Her mother had a hide-a-bed sofa and chair for her den, and furniture for her second bedroom. Charly had also arranged for a telephone to be hooked up on Friday.