“Yes. Especially today.”
“All in good time, Sara. The best things in life come to those who wait. Patience is a virtue. You—”
“Lincoln.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
His deep laughter filled the cab of the truck, and something close to, or maybe even, happiness warmed Sara at the sound of it.
***
Sara stared at the counter full of tins and other various containers of flavored popcorn. Lincoln had basically bought the small Montfort Rural Route 1 store out of stock. She could smell the butter and popcorn scent through the boxes.
“Is it overwhelming?” he asked, popping some cheese popcorn into his mouth.
“It’s…” Sara’s eyes watered. “It’s perfect. Thank you. I had fun today.”
“Day’s not over.” Lincoln grabbed a paper towel from the holder on the counter and wiped his hands on it, tossing the used paper towel into the garbage. “Be right back.”
Sara rubbed her face, a fresh wave of sadness hitting her in Lincoln’s absence. She didn’t even know why. It was a different kind of sadness from what she normally felt and Sara couldn’t determine the cause of it. Loneliness maybe; or the loss of warmth; the fading of light and the impending submergence back into darkness.
Lincoln carried in a pizza with a Papa Murphy’s label on it. He set it on the table. The pepperonis spelled out ‘Happy 28 Years, Sara’. Sara stared at it, her eyes burning with tears. She looked at Lincoln and he tilted his head to the side. “You’re gonna cry over pizza, Sara? Don’t be such a girl,” he gently teased, wiping his thumb under her eyes and taking her tears away.
She sobbed and laughed at the same time, wiping her eyes.
“I got one more thing.”
“Don’t you dare, Lincoln. You’ve done too much already.”
“It’s your special day,” was all he said, leaving her once more.
Sara rubbed her aching chest as her eyes lingered on the words spelled out with pepperonis. It was corny and sweet and she loved it. Lincoln had always had a giving nature, but this, this was too much. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve his friendship. Friendship. It didn’t feel like the right word. It was more than that; a kinship of two lost souls struggling to live under the loss of substantial grief.
She flat-out bawled when he carried in a large hope chest made out of cherry wood. Butterflies and vines were carved into the lid of it. Sara loved butterflies. She hadn’t known Lincoln knew that. Or maybe she had and she’d forgotten; everything was a jumbled mess in her head most of the time.
“You’re not supposed to cry, Sara,” he chided gently, stroking her hair as she sobbed onto his shirt, wetting it with her tears.
“You’re not supposed to make me cry,” she wailed, his shirt fisted between her hands.
“Trust me; that was not my intention. Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
“It’s my first project. Well, the first I’ve actually finished. I’ve been working on it for months.”
Sara stiffened, slowly moving back so she could see his face. “You made that yourself?”
“Yeah.” Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes. “That’s what I want to do. I want to make stuff. Woodworking.” He looked at her. “Do you think I’m lame?”
She wiped her eyes, sniffling. “I think you’re brilliant, Lincoln.” Sara thought of the time and hours it must have taken to make that for her and her chest squeezed.
His eyes lit up and he grinned. “You haven’t seen all of it. Here, I’ll open it for you.”
They knelt beside it, Sara’s arm and leg brushing Lincoln’s as he explained the making of the piece of furniture to her in great detail. She listened, in awe. He was excited, animated as he went on about things Sara didn’t understand. It didn’t matter; she could have listened to him all night. His eyes sparkled with life and Lincoln’s hands repeatedly gestured as he talked. The gift that he’d made for her couldn’t outweigh the gift of him sharing his dream with her.
“How did you learn how to do this, Lincoln?” Sara slowly trailed a hand along the smooth wood, touched beyond words by his thoughtfulness. He’d gotten a one-sided conversation from her for his birthday and she’d gotten more than she could have imagined.
“You’ll laugh.”
Sara turned her head at the same time Lincoln did. Their faces were only inches apart. “No, I won’t.”
“YouTube and I checked out some books from the Fennimore library.”
“YouTube is very informative,” she deadpanned.
Lincoln smiled, touching his forehead to hers. “That it is.”
“This is flawless. You have a real talent, Lincoln.” Sara had a hard time looking away from it. It would go perfect at the foot of the bed; the bed she never slept in. Sara shoved the thought away.
He shifted his position. “Yeah, well, I got a lot to learn yet too.”