I Love You Yes

I.
“I love you.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I do.”
“You do, do you?”
“Yes.”

II.
They arrived outside at six-thirty in the morning. They spread their blanket on the wet grass, set the cooler precisely in the middle, and then perched under separate umbrellas. They stayed under the umbrellas all day even when the blanket was soaked. She read a book. He had his headphones. At noon they took the prepared lunch out of the cooler and ate it. She knitted a scarf. He did the calculus problems for the next six weeks. They took the prepared dinner out of the cooler and ate it. They dumped out the cooler. They put the wet blanket into a garbage bag. They stood in line. When the time came, they went inside. They got a spot by the stage. The music started. She drank three beers. He smoked a joint. The encore began. He spoke:
“I love this band.”
“Yes.”

III.
The bottle of dish soap advertised that it moisturized the hands while you washed. That is why she bought it. That is why she did the dishes last. She did them after vacuuming the carpet, after dusting the entertainment center, after frying the potatoes, after clearing the table.

When they were in bed she touched his chest with her moisturized hands.
“I love you,” she said.
“Yes.”

IV.
He had returned from the store with a rubber bone for Rufus. Rufus snatched the bone, squeezed himself behind the refrigerator where he chewed it until it became a foamy mass of plastic chunks, and then fell asleep.
The man pulled the refrigerator away from the wall. He scooped the struggling dog in his arms and carried the dog up the stairs and put him into the tub where he scrubbed the dog with special dog shampoo.

“I love you,” he said, rubbing the dog with a special dog towel. “I do. I do.” He set the dog down in his special dog basket. “Do you love me? Do you? Do you?”

The dog went back to sleep. The man thought the dog looked angelic while it was sleeping. “Are you an angel?” he said. “Here to watch over me and protect me?” He looked at Rufus one moment longer and said one word:
“Yes.”

V.
It was the last day of school. He was the last student in the room. The others were in the hall laughing and throwing their textbooks. He stood next to her desk. She looked at him. He looked back.
“Good bye,” he said.
“Good bye,” she replied.

He stood there.

“Grandma?” he said. She was not his Grandmother. “No. I mean Miss Rogers.”
“Yes?”

“I wanted to give you a goodbye hug.” She hugged him. “I love you,” he said. He took a step back. He put his backpack on both shoulders. He stood in the doorway. “Will you miss me?”
“Yes.”

VI.
She put the box of bulletins down on the table, just next to the cassette tapes and the Styrofoam cups. The people in the sanctuary were still singing. She could smell copier toner coming from the box. She blew some coffee breath over it. She volunteered for three things by writing her name on three pieces of paper. She checked her purse to make sure she had brought enough singles. She had. She picked up the bag with the coffee cake, went inside, and sat down in her seat: third row, aisle.

The man at the front was shouting. She watched his mouth. He shouted some more. She heard him say something. “Do you love Jesus?” Everyone in the room shouted at the same time:
“Yes.”