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“Can I come get
it on Wednesday?”
“It’s heavy,” he warns.
“That’s okay. I’ve got lots of help.” More than I could ever have wished for, and always just a phone call away.
With that, I step outside again, taking a deep breath as the shockingly cold air grips me.
Jonah is waiting on the lake, the old snow machine’s engine rumbling. “Race you back?” he hollers.
Instead of hopping onto mine, I scoot onto the back of his. “We can come back for it before you leave.” I curl my arms around his torso and press my body against him, reveling in the warmth and strength as my hands wander.
He peers back over his shoulder. “You ready?”
“Probably not.” Jonah likes to ride this thing at full throttle. As with everything he does in life, it seems. But that’s who he is. He’ll always be wild at heart, and there is no way to tame or change him.
Not that I would ever want to.
I smile.
And I hold on tight.
