Page 16 of The True-Blue Romance

“But one night there was an awful storm and she got very scared. Especially so when she saw the glow of fire outside her cottage window. She pressed her face against the window, watching, waiting, worrying, to see what it was. The glow got stronger, and the rain heavier, and fearlessly she opened the door wide to see what it was.”

“What was it?” Savannah asks quietly.

“A dragon.”

“A dragon!”

I smile as her eyes widen. “Yes, a dragon. But he was hurt. You see, he’d stepped on a rose bush and had an awful thorn in his foot. He needed someone to help him take it out. He huffed smoke and puffed, hobbling closer to the door. He held out his paw, and she knew then, when she saw the thorn, what she had to do. She pulled it out.”

“Brave,” Savannah says.

“Yes,” I agree, because the little girl is her. “She watched as the dragon hobbled off, then took flight into the storm. No longer worried about what was outside, she snuggled into her bed and fell asleep to the storm. When she woke up the next day, she went outside to find a box left in front of her home. When she opened it up, she found books about fairy tales. It must’ve been a gift from the dragon and the books must’ve been from his hoard. She treasured those books her whole life, keeping them close. And sometimes on stormy days, she’d look up to the sky and swear she saw a dragon flying overhead, checking to ensure she was still in the cottage and safe.”

Savannah smiles sleepily and rolls over, tugging Gracie to her chest. I sit there for a moment, waiting, and sure enough, she makes those little puffs of breath that say she’s asleep. Carefully, I slide off the bed and leave the room, closing the door gently behind me. When I enter the living room, it’s to find Joey texting someone, eyebrows furrowed. Maybe he’s talking to a new girl.

“I’m gonna go,” I say quietly. “Savannah is asleep.”

Joey looks up, grins, and my face flushes before I can control it. “You feel okay? You look red.”

“Just a long day. Ready to sleep. I’ll see you at the farm.”

Joey stands and crosses the room, hugging me before I can even attempt to say no. I let him hug me, wishing so many things that I shouldn’t wish. I pull away before I do something stupid like say I’m in love with you, please love me back. Thankfully, he doesn’t follow me out the front door. I climb into the truck and avoid looking toward the cottage, just worried about pointing the truck home and getting there as fast as I can. The road lights up under my headlights, the grass waving in the breeze outside the driver’s window. I want to go somewhere, but also nowhere, all at once. I want to be someone different, but I don’t know whom.

I park my truck at my farm feeling lonelier than ever and skip even going inside. The goats bleat at me from their pen.

“I know, you’re hungry,” I say in apology while entering their humble abode to scoop them out some feed. Falcor butts his head against my leg, wanting pets. While they eat their dinner, I dip to my knees and run my hands over their backs. Maybe I should get a rabbit this spring to keep them company and give Savannah another buddy when she visits. Once the goats are cared for, I head inside the empty house. Every time I come home, I’m reminded just how lonely I am.

I’m starved after such a long day, but I’m not hungry. Don’t want a drink either. I end up grabbing a Diet Coke and then settling in on the couch for a few episodes of The West Wing on streaming. That’s how my evening goes, quiet and unassuming, something I would’ve ached for as a child in a home full of too much angry noise. But now the silence just reminds me of how lonely I am and how there’s another house down the street full of love, that I’m welcome to sometimes, but never enough to make it a permanent home.

4

JOEY

I’m in the middle of composing an angry email to my ex-wife when Savannah appears at my bedside, hair adorably rumpled and smiling, showing the gap between her two front teeth. Danica deserves many angry emails, but my therapist always says to stay the sanest person in the room in regard to my ex-wife, so I do what I always do and delete the draft. Somehow that always helps just a little. Plus, Lee would be very proud that I deleted it.

I smile and let out a breath, feeling my shoulders inch away from my ears just in time for morning cuddles with my kid.

“Morning, sweetheart,” I say and hold my arms out wide so she can crawl into bed with me.

Savannah grins widely and jumps into the bed with a giggle. She still smells like the lavender bubble bath from the night prior. She also smells a little like Froot Loops, which means she’s already snuck into the kitchen for breakfast before coming to me for a morning cuddle. At least this weekend is mine on the schedule.

“What do you wanna do today?”

“I wanna go to Unc-Lee’s farm,” Savannah says diplomatically, as if it’ll come true no matter what.

“He might be busy today.”

“He’s not.”

“Oh? How do you know?”

“One time he told me he’s always waiting for us.”

Something in my heart cracks at her words, my heart tumbling around inside me like it’s lost all semblance of control. I squeeze her a little tighter until she giggles and wiggles out of my grip. She disappears out of my bedroom, all blonde curly hair and laughter that drags me out of my bed. I tug on an old Clay Farms T-shirt, then pad into the living room to track her down.

We spend the morning completing our normal Saturday morning errands, like straightening the house up, getting groceries, then starting a load of laundry that I’ll no doubt forget about and need to finish on Sunday. It’s a beautiful early April day when we hit the road toward Lee’s farm. I hope Lee’s up for a visit, because truthfully, I miss him. Something’s been going on with Lee for the past few months, maybe even years. I miss my best friend. I miss Lee. I miss Sunday night dinners and story time with Savannah where Lee does different voices for each character. I miss making his favorite food just to see him smile because he didn’t have home-cooked meals from anyone besides Cindy until my family came along. I miss his deep laugh that shakes his whole body when I really get him going. I miss the small gap between his teeth that I see every time I look at Savannah. Sometimes I wonder if she’s more his kid than mine, if that was possible.

The early afternoon sunshine shines right down on Lee’s farm. His truck is in the driveway and the goats are bleating loudly from the backyard when I finally hustle Savannah out of her booster seat.