“Then in high school Pete moved, his parents got a different job or something—I can’t remember now—and I pretty much just studied and played sports to keep busy.”
I could tell she didn’t like that part; compassion mired her features. Her bottom lip making an adorable pout.
“His grandparents still invited me there that next summer, but I think we both had some kind of sports camp we had to attend and the dates didn’t line up. Even after all of those years, I still think of them.”
I wanted her to understand, that even though she thought her town might not have much to offer, the sense of community and belonging was what I wanted.
“What happened to Pete?” she asked, with curious eyes before she yawned.
“He lives in Houston. Has a wife and a couple of kids. We still talk every once in a while. I was in his wedding.” I think the fact that we were still friends made her smile.
She said, “Good,” as she lay her head back down. And then she wrapped an arm around my back and covered both of us with the blanket.
“That’s really why you moved here. The job worked out, but I’m sure you had other options.”
I had, but she was right. I’d been waiting until there was a little town, where I could move. Fix up a house and start a real family.
One that I could hold together.
One that was mine.
“I think you’re right.”
She fell asleep in my arms, and I sat awake in the chair on the deck for a long time and let her rest. The soft rise and fall of her chest and the way her hold on me never weakened gave me a new feeling. Something peaceful and something worth working hard to keep.
I realized I wanted her to love me, and I wanted to love her back, but also knew we had some time to kill between now and then.
In just those few short weeks, she’d already become someone I cared about. Someone who made time go faster together, and slower when we were apart.
I had a desire to give her things, show her places she’d never been, make her laugh and hear her say my name thousands of times, like she had on the boat.
The hunger to build something with this woman was powerful and new to me. I didn’t want the idea of the perfect life, I really wanted it, and it was so easy inserting Hannah into all of those future thoughts. It was the most natural thing picturing her by my side.
I wasn’t going to come on strong, even if everything in my being told me to hold on to her. What we had was new and exciting and fun. Completely unexpected, but so welcomed at the same time.
There was no place I’d rather be. I wasn’t going anywhere, and, I thought, neither was she.
I woke up early in the cabin in my boxers, still holding her, just as I’d fallen asleep the night before.
I didn’t want to let go, but I wanted to stretch out. Careful I didn’t wake her, I tried to pull my arm out from under her, not realizing she was already awake, too.
“Remember that day you asked me why do you keep coming over here? And I asked you why don’t you ever tell me to leave?”
I did remember. I was frustrated and annoyed, and there she was. The only person who was trying to help me and the only one around to take it out on. It wasn’t that I missed Rachelle, because I didn’t. It was that all along I was trying to force something that wasn’t right. Then, when she showed up, it made me question why it never felt wrong with her there. It was confusing.
“I’m sorry I was so rude that day.”
“I’m not.”
She rolled around in my arms, looking sleepy and fresh faced. Her hair wild and messy. I took a moment to memorize exactly the way she looked. A mental snapshot, knowing there would be a time when I’d think back to this second and be thankful for the clarity.
She’d been half asleep when I set her in the bed last night. I didn’t want to wake her, but when I sat her on the bed, she stirred. Then she kicked off her flip-flops and pulled her jeans off, choosing to sleep in her underwear and tank top. Her bra never found its way back on after the boat.
“Want to know why?” She quirked a conspiratorial eyebrow and puckered her lips to hold her secret in a little longer.
“Why?”
“When I was little I remember asking my grandpa if my mom and dad fought a lot. I always knew she left, but I never really understood why until I was older.” She propped herself up on her hand, her elbow pressing into the bed.
“Anyway, from time to time I’d ask my grandpa if it had been this or that which had caused my mom and dad to split. On this day, it was fighting. I wanted to know if they fought all the time and I was shocked when he said no so fast.