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“Quit,” I deadpan, “or it’ll make me like him less.”
She laughs, taking Bear by the hand as they filter inside. I look at Deuce, who is rolling his knuckles against his palm, popping them.
“Am I crazy for wanting to see her?” I ask, scratching the side of my jaw.
He pats my shoulder. “You’re not crazy. You guys already have a good thing. I think now it’s time to explore more.” He levels his gaze on me, serious and prodding. “Stop worrying, okay? You’re a good dad, but you deserve more. She wants to give you more. And, Hudson, I’ve known you a long time. You and I both know,you want more.With Dolly.”
He gets out of the truck, and I do, too, except I veer off to the barn. I don’t give Deuce a second glance as my eyes catch on the sparkling lights shining from the split door.
My stomach clenches as I pull the door open. My breath catches and my mouth falls open, speechless at the sight.
twenty-five
IVY’S RIGHT.
Dolly
Ivy hands me her gloves, and Juniper does the same, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Need anything else?” she asks, catching her breath.
I step back, my arms full of tangled sheets and tarps. I don’t look at her and Ivy, I only stare at my masterpiece, my eyes hot. It’s so fucking beautiful. It turned out better than I could have ever imagined, and seeing all of Bear’s artistry and hard work has me choking on a proud sob.
“No,” I manage to squeak. “Thank you.”
Ivy kisses my cheek as Juni pulls her fingers through my hair. “Good luck,” she whispers. Tears slide down my cheeks but I ignore them as Ivy pulls me into a surprising hug. Hugging is usually a Juniper trait, but Ivy sinks her chin intothe top of my shoulder, our hearts beating in sync for a quiet moment.
“If he doesn’t see that everything you’ve done is out of love, you’re too good for him, remember that, okay?” she says softly, preparing me for what she believes is the end.
Deep inside, I question everything as I watch my sisters leave the barn. The last five years, I was so certain. So sure. Every Google search, every time I tailed his truck, hid in the alley and watched him get his hair trimmed at the barber, read all the books on his shelves to understand what he likes, kept track of what foods he ate most to know his favorites, made a list of places he avoided and even kept track of what jeans and boots he wore and when to understand his laundry cycle. Everything I’ve done has been to learn every detail about the man I love so that when he sees me, I’m ready for him.
I believed bone-deep I was putting in the time so that when he came around, we’d be ready to take off and start our life together, skipping past months of getting to know one another.
I know Hudson Elijah Gray as well as I know myself. I’m ready for him.
I’ve never wondered if I was wrong. I’ve always held tight to my passionate faith. I’ve shrugged off the devil on the shoulder moments that popped up here and there over the years, asking me if I’m in love or if I’m crazy.
I told him I loved him at the park. I came clean about loving him for so long.
And he walked away.
It’s not a good sign, I’ll admit.
But I refuse to acknowledge the sliver of doubt becauseletting in negativity will only breed more negativity. And the only thing I want bred is me.
I plug in the twinkle lights that I’ve nailed up around the barn, positioning the strands to accentuate the large piece of art. Broken into three floor-to-ceiling canvases, all of Bear’s watercolor swatches have come together perfectly to create a beautiful mosaic image of Gray Farms, complete with Hudson and Bear standing hand in hand under the oak tree, the backdrop a sherbet sunset. I did Bear and Hudson, but Bear did the rest, following my directions on which color should be on each swatch.
I had the vision, and it came to fruition, and I choose to see this piece of art as a metaphor for what is going on between Hudson and I.
Wiping my palms down my thighs, my sundress clinging to me from the nervous sweat, I stand in front of the massive creation and wait.
It’s funny, I don’t hear his truck when he gets home but I do hear his boots as he enters, clumps and dried hay and gravel crunching and popping as enters.
Staring at the creation, the accomplishment, the beauty of what Bear and I have created, I don’t turn to face him. I can’t take my eyes off of it.
Whatever happens in this barn tonight, I will always be proud of what I have with Bear, our relationship and the bond we have.
Ivy’s right.
If Hudson can’t see how much I’ve given to him over the years, if he can’t see that I’ve given and am willing to give all my love and more, then maybe I was wrong.
