The sun had begun its long slow descent into the night as Jeff stepped through his front door and onto his front porch. This far south, even the sun takes a long leisurely approach to setting. It was Jeff's favorite time to sit and rock gently on one of the old rocking chairs his grandfather had made, and sip his glass of scotch. This old house sat a ways back from a sleepy country road. Jeff took advantage of the large wrap around porch often. He sat quietly and listened to the gentle evening breeze ripple through the leaves of the ancient oaks that lined the path leading from the house to the hedge that separated Jeff's family home from the outside world.
This night was slightly different from the others, as Jeff was expecting company. A lady to be exact. The entrancing Miss Jones. Jeff met Miss Jones the previous weekend at the cotillion. He did not frequent such events as a rule, but had decided to attend at the urging of his old aunt, who is anxious to see him settle down and provide an heir to the Davis family heritage. It was at this dance that he met Miss Jones. It was straight out of a fairy tale, how he walked into the pavilion and caught her sparkling eyes from across the room. She stood in the corner next to Miss Myrtle who was talking up a storm. As it turns out Miss Jones is staying at the boarding house temporarily. One of the requirements of boarding with Miss Myrtle is attendance at the local functions. As Jeff stood and watched Miss Jones glance nervously about the room of strangers he felt it his duty to pay his respects and rescue this damsel from the unending gossip. He took her and a few gentle spins about the dance floor filling her in on a bit of the sorted and long history of the small southern town.
Morgan Jones was indeed not from around these parts, but Jeff did not allow her northern upbringing to dissuade his growing affections to her. He invited her to his home for a nice quiet dinner the next weekend, and tonight was that night. The old family cook, Miss Geneva had been about Jeff's kitchen all day and had only just left. He and his loyal lab, Duchess, had taken up their usual posts on the porch to take in the setting of the sun and await the arrival of their lovely guest.
It was not long before the iron gate in the hedgerow creaked slightly as the large door was pressed open. Duchess merely shifted slightly in her slumber, laid out on the top steps of the porch. Timidly Morgan Jones stepped through the gate and peered up the tree-lined path to the main house. Bathed in the golden light of the setting sun the three story southern home sat regally among the oaks whose leaves had just begun to change colors.
Jeff stood and walked over to lean against the large column next to the top step. Morgan walked slowly up the path taking in the surroundings. She climbed the small set of stairs to the porch and into a welcome embrace from Jeff.
"Come sit on my swing a bit." Jeff gently ushered Morgan to the large porch swing hanging at the corner of the porch. His gentle southern draw hung in the evening air like a song in Morgan's ears.
As they passed the dog, Duchess barely moved only to crack one large brown eye as the couple stepped by.
"Your house is amazing." Morgan spoke as she sat back on the swing.
