October 15, 2017
I stand in the doorway, coffee in hand, watching her sleep. She’s at peace. The pain of last night hasn’t caught up to her yet. I know she’ll have to relive it when I wake her up. It’s just after five in the morning. The moon is still bright and shining through the windows.
I walk over to her side of the bed and set her coffee down. “Alex, time to get to work. You’re a game warden now.”
She’s awake. One eye peeks open from behind her lid.
I smile.
Alex looks to the bedside table. She looks back at me. “You brought me coffee?” She looks down at my uniform. “You’re already dressed?”
“I did, and yes, I am.” I want to bend down and kiss her forehead, but I don’t. After what we did last night, it’s perfectly acceptable, but still, I don’t.
“Give me ten minutes?” She rolls onto her back.
Knowing she’s naked beneath the covers, I want to make love to her early in the morning. What I wouldn’t give to be these sheets right now.
I get up. I sit back down.
“What?”
I lean down and kiss her forehead. I might never get the chance to do that again, but now, I won’t regret that I didn’t do it.
I pull away and stand.
She’s got the covers up against her breasts, holding the sheet for dear life.
“I’ll meet you out in the living room,” I say.
It’s five thirty a.m. We’re in the truck.
“We’ll stop by Hello, Good-Pie before we go pick up Rookie at my dad’s and go on shift.”
Alex is quiet. She’s been quiet since she woke up.
“Are you all right?”
“Kyle died in a fire.” There’s a long pause. “We were leaving a movie, on foot to frozen yogurt. We took the back way.” Alex is quiet, still staring out the window, into the darkness. “In many ways, I wish we hadn’t taken the back way. There were calls for help. Kyle was a firefighter. Someone screamed that there was a child inside.” She pauses once more. “That’s all it took for Kyle to run into the burning house and never come out.”
I don’t think she’s looking for comfort; she just needs time and space to share this hidden trauma.
“Thank you for last night.”
I turn my head toward her.
“I was out of my head.” Her eyes meet mine. “But I don’t regret anything.”
Air is caught, lodged somewhere in my throat, and I can’t breathe. Willing my eyes to turn back onto the road as we make our way down Main Street, I find my words again. “I don’t either,” is all I manage.
What I want to say is, Everything. I see Sunday nights in bed with you, watching the last rerun of Three’s Company before we fall asleep. I see long showers on Saturday mornings. I see you having our children. I see you in the mornings, at your computer, meeting a deadline, sexy as hell with your hair in a bun, a pencil in your mouth. In our moments of sadness, I see my everything with you. Because, when your heart breaks, mine does, too.
But, instead of saying this, I put the truck in park and come around to her side, but she’s already opened the door. Maybe I don’t say shit like this because I’m too afraid to lose someone I love again.
The bell rings as we walk into homemade heaven.
“Good morning, you two!” Clay is way too happy at way-too-early o’clock. “Going out to fight crime, I see.”
Randall comes out from the back. “I have a new recipe. Peach scones.”
He pulls out a tray from one of the ovens, and Clay helps him to put them in the baskets.
“We have a new brand from Maine Roasters. Maple Bacon. Go on. It’s over there.” Clay motions to the set of coffee carafes.
“Heard about the fire last night. No damage done, I hope.” Clay rings us up.
I move my hand to the small of Alex’s back, letting her know I’m here, hoping she takes this statement all right, as she takes out her wallet.
“Except for the outhouse,” I say, pulling my wallet out and pushing cash in front of Alex’s. “I’ve got it.”
Randall walks to the counter, wiping his hands. “Heard about the woman’s body parts they’ve been finding. Any leads on that?”
I cock my head. “How’d you know about that?”