2. Beau Winston
3. Kissing
* * *
October 19
1. Beau Winston
2. The basin sink at the shop
3. My brother
PS I am not thankful for corn chips
* * *
A short, disbelieving laugh burst from my lungs. I shook my head, sitting up completely in the bed as I read page after page, seeing my name more and more each day.
* * *
October 28
1. Beau
2. Dr. West
3. Pajamas
* * *
October 29
1. Beau
2. Long walks
3. Autumn
* * *
October 30
1. Beau
2. Cotton sheets
3. Hot tea
* * *
October 31
1. My TIG Welder
2. Beau
3. Books
* * *
November 1
1. Beau
2. Sex—especially oral sex
3. Teacups
* * *
“See? Lists.” Shelly said, breezing back into the room.
I looked up, finding her carrying two boxes of LUNA Bars and shoving them into her suitcase.
It was too much.
The journal was too much.
She was too much.
Placing the book reverently on the nightstand, I reached for her arm as she straightened and pulled her to the bed, bringing her on top of me. Her hair fell like a curtain around us, her eyes wide as they moved between mine.
“What?” she asked, soft and curious.
“I love you.”
“I know that.” She grinned, soft and open.
“And I’m grateful for you.”
“Good.” Her grin grew, her lovely gaze dropping to my mouth. “What date did you read last?”
“November 1. It was my favorite. I might read it again.”
She laughed, resting her elbow on my chest and placing her chin in her palm. “You stopped just when it was getting good.”
Holding her gaze, I lifted my head. I kissed her.
And I stopped, just as it was getting good.
I stopped my mind.
I also asked time to stand still.
Because I’d been wrong.
In life, there are three periods of time: before, after, and now. I’d always thought of now as a limbo. Sometimes, rarely, it was limbo.
But in the scheme of things, if I took the time to stop and open my eyes; if I paid attention, and counted my blessings, now wasn’t limbo.
Now was heaven.
Epilogue
“Whenever you think or you believe or you know, you're a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you're nobody-but-yourself.”
― E.E. Cummings
* * *
*Beau*
“Bend over, Darin!”
Shelly grimaced, her gaze lifting to Ashley. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought him.”
“I think he’s great.” Ashley leaned her elbow on the table, her attention affixed to Oliver. “He should come to Christmas Eve dinner every year and we should make his statements into a drinking game. Every time he tells Darin to bend over, we take a drink of Cletus’s moonshine eggnog.”
“Hard pass.” Jethro shook his head adamantly. “Not to the drinking game, but to Cletus’s moonshine eggnog.”
I had to agree with Jethro, the stuff was like drinking paint thinner mixed with eggs. But I wasn’t about to say so out loud, not while Cletus was sitting three chairs down from me and glaring at Jethro with malicious intent.
“Why does he keep telling Darin to bend over?” Jennifer Sylvester wrinkled her nose. She was sitting on Cletus’s lap, an arm draped along his shoulders while she absentmindedly twisted one of his curls around a finger.
Before Shelly could explain, Cletus suggested evenly, “Perhaps his last owner used suppositories.”
Both Shelly and I glanced at Cletus, then at each other. My shoulders shook with silent laughter and she closed her eyes, her full lips pressing together.
Despite Duane and Jess not being there, it had been a great evening and—so far—a great Christmas. Shelly had helped us put up a tree in the family room a few weeks ago and had assisted Jennifer, Ashley, and Sienna with decorations for the place.
Every time Ashley would say something like, “I wish we had some of those frosted glass bulbs,” or, “I wish we had real silver bells,” or, “I wish we had a better wreath holder,” Shelly would show up three days later with the item—custom made and gorgeous—and Ashley would trip all over herself with gratitude, wonder, and awe.
I think, other than me, Ashley had become her biggest fan.
So I wasn’t surprised my sister didn’t mind Oliver. As long as Oliver belonged to Shelly, the bird could do no wrong.
“Are we opening gifts soon?” Sienna yawned. “I’m sorry I’m so sleepy.”
“You’re pregnant, you’re allowed to be sleepy.” Jethro rubbed her back.
Roscoe sent her a cheeky smile. “Yeah. You’re sleeping for two now.”
I hid a yawn behind my hand, glancing at my watch—the Rolex, but now with a leather band—and saw it was getting late. We’d skyped with Duane and Jess earlier, both at Shelly’s place before we’d driven over, and again with the whole family once we’d arrived. They looked happy, like they were having the time of their lives, and Duane tried to impress us with his command of the Italian language.
Basically, he knew how to ask, Where is the toilet? and, How much for that car?
It was good to see him. We’d been emailing back and forth regularly, but it was good to actually see his face.
Shelly stood, taking Oliver with her. “I’ll put him back in his cage.”
The rest of my family also stood, most of us stretching as we did so.
“Let me get the pie out of the oven.” Jenn gave Cletus a kiss on the cheek, then moved quickly into the kitchen; my brother’s gaze followed her as she went.
I would have grinned at his obvious devotion to the woman, poking fun at his recent domestication much like I’d done to Duane last year with Jess. But I couldn’t seem to manage a grin. I was too nervous.
Shelly and I had an early flight in the morning to Chicago. I wasn’t stressing about traveling on Christmas Day, but I did feel slightly ridiculous about our mode of travel. Quinn was sending his private plane to pick us up.
The nerves had very little to do with tomorrow and everything to do with today. I had something special prepared for Shelly and my whole family was in on the plan.
“Stop fretting, she’ll love it.” Ashley caught me by the arm as we migrated from the dining room to the Christmas tree. “And we’ll wait to give her our gifts until after she opens the book.”
“Okay.” My attention moved from Ashely to Drew; he was standing behind her, his hands on her arms. “And don’t make a show about it. Just give her the boxes like it’s no big deal. She doesn’t like to be the center of attention.”
“Don’t worry. We won’t,” Drew promised, issuing me solemn nod.
“Stop stalling,” Cletus appeared suddenly, put his hands on my shoulders, and steered me toward the living room, “y’all need to get a move on before Sienna passes out and we all have to watch Jethro revive her using mouth-to-mouth.”