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His severe face relaxed and I wondered what it would take for him to be that relaxed all the time.
I continued, “Barrett, thank you, so much, but I think you better go,” his face lost that relaxed look, and I explained, “You’re going to be late.”
He was still as he studied me. “I took the day off. Called in a couple of hours ago. I thought I’d take you for a drive-out.”
“A drive-out?” He began to explain but I cut him off in my excitement. “I know, Bex told us. I’d love that! Where will we go?”
His face softened again.
“Leave it to me. Let’s sit and enjoy our coffee for an hour, I’ll check the tub for you so you can get ready, then I’ll go home, shower, change, and come back for you.”
We sat and drank coffee and talked about the future of the shelter. I gave him my house key, so he could lock up when he left. He left me in the bathroom to get ready after he checked the tub.
He instructed, “Wear comfortable clothing and you’ll need to bring a sweater. Flip flops if you have them. I’ll be back for you in an hour.”
A little over an hour later Barrett pulled onto the 403 and gave me control of the music. I plugged Tracey Chapman in and gave him the final piece.
“This was my song back then. I wished for someone with a fast car, or any car,” I snorted, “to take me away. You don’t know how perfect it is to go on a drive-out with you today.”
He didn’t answer. He was talked out and so was I.
I played all the heavy stuff that I loved as well as the lighter stuff and noted his changing expressions with my music choices. He boomed out a laugh at the opening notes of ‘Bad Girlfriend’ by Theory of a Deadman.
“Willa’s got a dirty side.” He glanced sideways at me, eyes smiling.
I blushed. “It’s purely theoretical.”
He hummed. I didn’t know what that meant, but I wasn’t going to think about it.
I’d texted everyone who mattered while we drove to let them know how I was, where I was, and that I was with Barrett. They’d be speculating like crazy.
We were on the highway for a good hour and a half before he turned off onto a regional road. We rolled down our windows and I stuck my hand out the window to play with the wind.
A scant twenty minutes later I spied the sign for Port Stanley and sat up straight, grasping his bicep. It was hard and distracted me momentarily. I gave it an inadvertent squeeze which made his eyes crinkle and I laughed in embarrassment.
“Are we going to Port Stanley? Mara loves this place!”
“A good choice, then?”
“Perfect.”
We parked at the Port Stanley Beach Hotel. I jumped down from his SUV as soon as he pulled to a stop and stretched my hands over my head. He lumbered around to my side.
“God, Barrett, thank you.”
I opened my eyes to find his eyes warm on my face. “You look a whole helluva lot better than you did last night.”
I nodded. “I feel a whole helluva lot better.”
“Just like that? It’s over?”
“No… it comes and goes today, but the anticipation leading up to today is over and I suppose in some ways that was the worst part back then, that space of time where I could have done something different.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, and he stepped towards me quickly.
“Sorry, curly. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
I slid my arms around his waist, and he pulled me in.
