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“I’m older.”
“I’m not twenty anymore. I don’t look like a twenty-year-old, I don’t feel like a twenty-year-old, I don’t think like a twenty-year-old.”
“And I’m thankful for that.”
“I just...”
How was she supposed to explain to him that maybe she wanted to move forward in whatever direction they were going in their relationship, but she’d been out of any kind of relationship for so long she didn’t know what was expected anymore? What a person did.
How a person was brave enough to be so vulnerable when they no longer had the perfection of youth. Far from it. She sagged in all kinds of places that a woman wasn’t supposed to sag in, and she had wrinkles and bulges, and she looked like she was a mother of two girls, a woman who could be a grandmother any day. She didn’t feel like that, not her heart.
She felt young still, but when she looked in the mirror, it was obvious in the lines around her eyes and around her mouth, the age spots that dotted her face, and hands and arms, they were even on her legs, although he couldn’t see them now.
It made her feel like maybe she would be hurt if they tried to move forward and he was disappointed in her. Like he could really hurt her, even without meaning to.
She would have thought she was too old for that.
“You just what?” he prompted after what felt like a long time.
“I’m old, and I look old. Under these clothes is an old lady’s body. It’s humbling. I guess.”
“I’m just as old as you are.” He grinned a little. “Maybe there’s a little bit more pressure on me, because not only do I have an old man’s body, but things don’t work quite like they used to.”
He winked at her, then he said, “We’re not gonna worry about that. Not tonight. You’re tired, so am I.” She shifted as he reached for the door, then he paused. “I don’t know if this will ease your mind at all, because I’m not sure exactly where you’re going. But the way you look doesn’t matter to me at all. It hasn’t for the last ten years. I mean, I love your smile. I’m not gonna deny that. But more because it makes me happy to look at you smiling. Makes my heart feel good to think that I make you smile sometimes.”
“You make me laugh a lot.”
“But I guess maybe at my age, I’m less concerned about the way you look than the way you act. The character that you have. The way you’re kind to your mom even though sometimes I want to throttle her and don’t understand how you can continue to be patient with her. The way you’re kind to my sister. The way you take care of me. Even when I make things difficult for you and get a little grumpy when you try to mother me.”
“I don’t try to mother you.”
“You do. But that was the wrong answer. You’re supposed to say ‘you don’t get grumpy.’”
“All right. That’s true too. I don’t mother you, you don’t get grumpy, and... You’re silly.”
“I try. Be back in ten.”
She shook her head, realizing that her mouth was no longer dry, and she no longer had that pressing weight of anxiety sitting on top of her. He made her laugh, made her feel better, and eased her mind, all without really knowing what the problem was.
“Those are words I never thought I’d hear you say.” She wrinkled her nose at him, and then turned with lifted brows, and walked to the bed without turning back around.
“Still sashaying around like a twenty-year-old,” he said, laughter in his tone as he slipped through the door and closed it behind him, not giving her a chance to respond.
That was okay. The only response she had was to turn around and stick her tongue out at him, but the door was already closed and he didn’t see it. Which was probably just as well, because a woman of her advanced years shouldn’t be resorting to such childish displays of emotion, but she didn’t have any other words.
She probably should thank him for making this so easy. Thank him for making her laugh. Thank him for making it feel like it was a natural thing. Shooing her off to bed like it was something he did every night.
She smiled, pulling the covers back and smelling the freshness of clean laundry detergent.
He’d changed them. The thought made her smile. Unless he just washed his sheets, which she knew he hadn’t done it that day, since they’d been planting trees all day.
The idea that he’d taken the time to make it clean for her made her feel warm and cozy.
He had all of his things on one nightstand, so she chose the other side, setting her phone down, realizing she didn’t have her charger, and getting in bed and turning off the light.
She didn’t settle down on the exact edge of the bed, but she settled right in the middle of her side.
Might as well. He was going to act like everything was normal, she might as well too.
