It worked.
After I put my new wineglass down and was about to pick up my fork and knife to resume eating my steak, he’d murmured, “Give me your hand, sp?tzchen.”
I’d looked at him and reached out my right hand.
“Other one, Izzy.”
My breath caught and I gave him my left.
He was right.
The ring was extraordinary.
I loved it.
So much, we didn’t finish dinner.
That night, the night of the ring, I didn’t know what woke me.
But I woke.
I realized I was alone in the bed instantly.
I turned.
Johnny was outside, bathed in moonlight, wearing sweatpants and a half-zip sweatshirt with a high collar.
He was standing at the railing, staring through the dark at the creek.
I pulled back the covers and walked down the hall to the bathroom and into the closet with three dogs trailing me (Toby had given Addie and Brooks a rescue, half ridgeback, half we didn’t know. See? Poorly hiding the falling-in-love thing).
I yanked on a pair of Johnny’s thick socks, moved to a different drawer and tugged another of his sweatshirts over my head to cover his tee I was already wearing.
Then me and our dogs headed back out, down the hall, to the door.
We also headed out of it to see Johnny looking our way, frowning.
“Eliza, your legs.”
It was cold, for certain.
I assumed.
I didn’t feel it.
It was then I discovered his ring held magical powers.
It warmed me through and through.
I just walked up to him, fit myself to him and wrapped my arms around him, feeling the alien feeling of my ring shifting on my finger due to the weight of the stone.
I liked that feeling.
He just did the wrapping his arms around me part.
“Why can’t you sleep?” I mumbled into his chest.
“I’m too happy.”
I didn’t know what his answer would be but that was not an answer I’d ever expect.
My head tipped back. “What?”
“I’ll get used to it,” he said to the creek.
“You can’t sleep because you’re too happy?” I demanded his confirmation.
He looked down at me and shook his head. “You’re still not with the program.”
“I always wanna kiss you, Johnny, but right now I wanna know more why you’re standing out in the cold instead of in bed with me.”
“That’s not the program I’m talking about.”
I closed my mouth.
“Never know whether to clue you in,” he muttered.
“It’s always the right thing to clue me in.” I did not mutter.
“I’m a dreamer.”
I stared up at him.
“Always been a dreamer. Always.” He paused then socked it to me. “Since she left. That she being Mom.”
I kept staring up at him but now I was doing it with my chest feeling tight.
“You wanna know what I dreamed, Izzy?”
Unable to speak, I nodded my head.
“I dreamed of winning a pretty woman and making her love only me. I dreamed of living with her at this mill and filling it with babies. I dreamed of keeping those garages strong for my sons to take over when it was their time. I dreamed of living my life knowing things would come and go. My children would be born, my woman and I would raise them and love them, and then they’d move on to live their own lives and be happy. But that pretty woman, my pretty woman, would always be with me. Now tell me, sp?tzchen, how does a man sleep when he’s living his dreams?”
“I . . . I honestly don’t know,” I replied.
“Obviously, me either,” he said.
“I seem to be able to do it,” I shared.
He stared down at me.
Then he made that noise, his muted roar.
After that, Johnny was kissing me.
I didn’t know how we made it back to the bed.
I did know how I was able to fall back to sleep almost instantly after Johnny was finished with me.
So I obviously didn’t know he didn’t fall back to sleep.
He also didn’t go stand under the stars and stare at the creek.
He lay in bed, holding me.
And he stared at the dark ceiling.
Smiling.
THE END