Page 43 of Tides and Tidings

She outstretched her right pinky finger, “Promise?”

I raised both of my pinkies, “Double pinky promise.”

“Oh. That’s legally binding.”

I shook my head, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Would you have me any other way?”

There’s not one thing I would ever change about Blythe. She’s beautiful both inside and out.

“Not in a million years.” I would regret this, but I continued, “What’s one thing you’d change about me?”

Blythe’s brows furrowed and she tapped her chin.

“Are there that many to choose from?” I teased.

“There’s nothing I would change about you.” She paused, “Well, there is one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You use too many damn towels. Every night is a new bath towel when you come out of the shower.”

Ever since Blythe moved in, she’s been on my case about using fewer towels. Something along the lines of “You’re already clean when you come out of the shower; why can’t you use the same towel more than once.”

I gave her a playful eye roll, “This is why we have separate bathrooms.”

“That doesn’t help when I still have to do the laundry!” She teased.

I started to slide out of the booth, “You know what, I’ll just do the laundry from here on out.” I outstretched my hand to her.

She grabbed my hand and stood up, “And that’s how all my clothes ended up fitting Wrenny.”

“You sound like you doubt my ability to do laundry.”

“Not doubting your ability to do the laundry, just your ability to not shrink all my clothes.”

My hand that wasn’t entwined with hers met my chest in feigned hurt. “I can’t believe your skepticism.”

“Are you really that surprised? I found a box of Wren’s old clothes in a closet the other day, which were clearly shrunk. How many of Wren’s clothes were shrunk before I came into the picture?” A laugh escaped her lips.

“I plead the fifth.” Blythe only found one box of clothes. There are three others in various closets.

We stepped back outside, and the cooler winter air hit our faces.

“Do you still want to go out?” Blythe asked, stepping out of the entryway.

“Hell yes. We have to go show everyone what it’s like when you get drunk with the person you wanna grow old with.”

Was that too cheesy? Maybe, but Blythe loves my cheesiness. If we’re honest, the woman loves cheese as a whole.

We strolled down the cobblestone street silently before turning down a sketchy alleyway.

“You’re sure it’s down here?” Blythe asked, her eyes wide.

I double-checked the directions on my phone, “Yep. I think it’s that door down there.”

“Charlie, that door looks like it’s the back entrance.”