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A soft smile tells me I’m forgiven, and the two of us head home in a quiet that is companionable rather than awkward. For most of the journey back to the Forge, we’re each lost in our own thoughts.
The sun sinks further beyond the horizon, speckling the windscreen as the treeline fractures the light into spiderweb stands. We’re a few miles from town when it dawns on me that I haven’t thanked Lizzie for, well, for the entire day.
“Lizzie…” I start but I don’t finish.
Shaking my head, I put on the turn signal and take the next side road down between two rows of trees.
“What’s going on?” Lizzie asks, glancing out the back window like we’re being tailed. “Is everything alright?”
I let the truck grind to a halt on the gravel a few hundred yards from the roadside. Here, the light is lost entirely. The trees loom in over us and everything becomes dark.
“Caleb?”
“Everything’s fine, I just… I want to look at you when I say this."
I kill the engine and turn determinedly in my seat. Whether she can see me or not, she deserves for me to look her in the eyes.
“Thank you, Lizzie.”
“Huh?” She’s watching me like she has no idea what I’m talking about. Like she hasn’t noticed the difference her presence made today.
“For today, I mean.” Reaching over for her hand, I squeeze her fingers in mine. “I’m not the best at showing it, but you made things much easier today. And my mom…” I look out through the windscreen, hoping that the shadows and outlines of trees might somehow hold the words I’m looking for. “She was just…” I shake my head. “She was how she was when I was young. I’ve not seen her that happy in ages. And that was all you.”
Lizzie tilts her head at me. One of her dimples—the one on the left—is so defiant, I can see it even in the dim light. Her ponytail smooshes against the headrest, little swirls of white-blonde curling up over the upholstery.
“I think seeing her son had something to do with it,” she argues, but I shake my head.
“She sees me every week.”
“But she doesn’t always remember that. Today she thought you’d been gone for ages. You got to give her something truly exciting because she didn’t remember your visits. Another time she’ll remember them and know what a good son you are. Disease can change a person but it doesn’t have to completely extinguish the good.”
My hand stills around hers, and I blink in surprise. I hadn’t thought of it that way before, like a silver lining to every scenario, regardless of where Ma’s mind is at any one time.
“Well.” I cough, struggling around a sudden lump in my throat. “Whatever it was, she was more like herself today than I’ve seen in years, so thank you.”
For a moment, we’re both quiet. The emotion of the moment turns to intimacy, the darkness no longer cold but private.
I watch through the shadows as Lizzie draws close. The moonlight gilds the edge of her hand as she reaches for me and I feel the softness of her touch on my face. I meet her halfway across the cab, her lips sweet in the darkness.
“You’re welcome,” she breathes around our kiss. I swallow some of the emotion in her tone. I feel her warm exhale dance along my jaw. “Whatever I can do, just let me know.” The pad of her thumb brushes just beneath my eye and she pushes a lock of hair back from my brow. The look on her face is tender. Almost loving.
It does something to me, deep inside. Something I’m not at all ready to analyze.
This is temporary.
“You’re not going to be here—”
“Shh,” she places a finger to my lips, killing the words before they can be spoken. “Don’t start that again. For now, I am here. And no-one deserves to watch their loved ones in pain. Especially not alone. So, whatever I can do, I’ll do.”
I’m not sure who moves first this time, her or me, but a moment later we’re entangled once more. Her lips move against mine, her kiss deep and slow. I return it, stroking her face and neck. Her jaw fits perfectly in my palm. Like a piece of fine glass, fragile and priceless.
The kiss isn’t the nervous exploration of a first embrace. There’s no hesitation or awkward gentleness. We kiss with the intimacy of familiar lovers but with the slow pace of a couple who have all the time in the world. By the time I come up for breath, I’m hot through to my core, aroused like no one’s business and ready to mount the woman here and now in my truck.
Talk about romantic.
“Lizzie,” My voice is so broken, so rough, I’d be surprised if she can understand me. “Perhaps we should continue this back home.”
Back home.I try not to think of the connotations those two little words bring up.
