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She sighs a little and looks at Grandpa, who is giving her a knowing smile. She rolls her eyes like she doesn’t want to agree with him.
“Honey, life was different then. We had to deal with people being drafted to wars, among other things. The future was no guarantee. You had to leap and trust. And while I wouldn’t wish that turmoil or uncertainty on anyone—my Lord, it was hard when your Grandpa got his draft notice for Vietnam—I do sometimes wish your generation would feel some of that… urgency, that understanding that nothing is promised. Life is too short not to go after what you want. Life is too short not to be happy.” Grandma pats my hand and continues, “But that happiness doesn’t come from a ring. It should come from your hearts. As long as you’re both happy and following your hearts, that’s what really matters.” Then she stares at Grandpa, challenging him to disagree with her.
He looks at her lovingly, like she’s the only person around, eyes full of love and joy. He leans over and kisses her cheek. “I suppose you’re right, as always, dear.”
She scrunches up her face, then looks at us. “That’s what he calls me when he’s trying to get one over on me.”
We all share a laugh, and then Aaron and I share a sweet smile. And I know he’s thinking the same thing that I am.They remind me of us. The sass, the banter, but the deeply ingrained love. They feel like one entity sometimes. One body with two heads who feel the exact same way but also completely different about things. I love my grandparents and I love their love. Seeing those same things mirrored in my own relationship gives me hope for what my future could look like.
After the interrogation, lunch, and some of Grandma’s homemade applesauce cake, Mom and Dad left to go back home. Sarah went inside to hang out with Grandma and Grandpa while Aaron and I decided we wanted to walk the trails on my grandparents’ property one last time.
My grandparents own a gorgeous five-bedroom, three-bath farmhouse that dates back to the 1860s and was built by my grandfather’s great-grandfather on the 170 acres they owned. He and his son ran a local family farm. The sort of place that had cows, pigs, sheep, chickens, and vegetables. My grandpa’s great-grandmother took care of the vegetables and ran the house while his great-grandfather ran the farm. His grandfather continued that tradition, but when it came time for his father to take over the farm, he moved away from the farming business. Apparently, he was an animal lover who always cried when they butchered animals, especially his beloved sheep. So, he started raising sheep and shearing them for wool and became a well-known name in the area for the quality of the wool and their products. My grandparents kept that alive on a smaller scale, though my grandfather was primarily a wood-worker who became well known in the area for that. My grandmother worked as a nanny once all of her children moved out of the home.
He and my grandmother are both retired now, and about fifteen years ago, sold off their sheep and much of their grazing pasture, leaving them with about forty acres of mostly wooded property, though there is also a log cabin, some outbuildings, a huge barn with electricity and bathrooms where my grandfather had his woodworking shop, and a clearing where you can look out over the rolling pasture they used to own.
I might have grown up downtown running around backyards with my best friends, but this is where Sarah and I spent weekends and summers, often dragging our friends with us, running around the many trails through the woods.
Aaron and I wander down one of my favorite trails, marked by a big, gorgeous tree at the edge. It has multiple offshoots and almost looks tiered.
“I always told my grandpa he should’ve put a treehouse in this tree. Like a big Swiss Family Robinson one. It would’ve been amazing.”
Aaron runs his hand over the tree. “Maybe that’s still in its future.”
I take in a big breath and let out a dreamy sigh.
I’m not sure why, but this place has always felt like my future. I feel such a strong pull to it. I love running through these trails, watching stars in the clearing, and playing hide and seek in the little corners and hidden spots of the old farmhouse.
This house has been in our family for so many generations. I wonder if it could be in my future. I’d love that. Building a life here. I’m not a farmer, but I can see where this would be an amazing home. A big garden, all the apple and cherry trees on the property, a treehouse in that perfect tree. The place where all of my kids’ friends come to play. It’s a property built on and filled with love. I hope I get to add to that love someday.
As we continue on, I look over at Aaron, who, whether I wanted to admit it or not, has always had a part of me, just like this place does. I hope Aaron will be a piece of my future. More than a piece. I hope he’s the center of it.
“Do you really believe we’re going to have forever?” I ask him.
He stops and spins me to face him.
“We’re meant to be. I’m sure of that. No one could ever make me feel like you. But I’m not stupid. We’re eighteen. It would be extremely naïve of me to say or think that nothing would ever challenge us or that we couldn’t hurt each other. I hope we don’t. I hope nothing ever hurts us. But if something does, I know we can make it through together. As long as we’re in this together, there’s nothing we can’t do. Nothing we can’t overcome. So, I know that even if something happens, it doesn’t matter. We’re always going to find our way through. No matter what, we’re going to have forever, Rae.”
I give him a little smile. While it crushes me to think that something could break us or come between us, I know he’s right. We’re young. Something could happen, but his faith in us and our ability to always fight for each other and never give up instills me with faith that we will make it through anything, even if it is bleak for a while.
“I love you,” I whisper, leaning into him.
“I love you more, Beautiful.”
“I doubt it,” I say.
Then, as if to try and prove it, he pushes me against a nearby tree and starts kissing me hard. Full of love, passion, hope, desire.
Before I know it, he’s sliding his hand up under my dress.
“Aaron,” I whisper breathlessly.
He kisses my neck and then leans back, pulling a condom from his pocket.
I look at him curiously. “What’s that for? I’ve been on birth control this whole time. We’ve never used a condom.”
He presses his lips into my neck again. “I know.” Then in a husky voice, he whispers, “No mess.”
My breath catches.
