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She was about to roll over again when a voice below her whispered, “Having
trouble getting to sleep?” A pale beam of light came through the curtain
across the room. It was enough for her to see him staring up at her from
where he lay on the floor.
“Yes. Guess you are,
too. That floor doesn’t look comfortable.”
“I’ve slept on worse,”
he assured her. “Listen. Mom has some sleeping pills in the medicine
cabinet in the bathroom. Want me to get you one?”
“No.” She shook her
head even though he might not see it. “I keep seeing Mom when I close my
eyes. I’m afraid if I take one, I’ll have more of those nightmares and not
be able to wake up.”
“I understand.” He
seemed to think about something, then lifted a corner of the blanket he
was using. “Want to come down here and lie beside me?”
She didn’t need a
second invitation. Sliding off the couch, she grabbed her pillow and
placed it next to his. He turned to face her as she drew her blanket over
them. With his back to the window, she couldn’t see his face but the
warmth coming off his body relaxed her. That and his presence. Him letting
her stay here, giving her the chance to grieve, and not asking for
anything in return only strengthened her love for him.
It made her wonder what
he was thinking.
“Do you remember when
we were younger, and we were playing underneath that bridge over on
Samuelson?”
“And that big-ass truck
rolled over it, sending huge dirt clods raining down on us,” he supplied.
“You almost got
clobbered in the head by that chunk of concrete.”
“My shoulder and upper
arm swelled up and turned black. I still have the scar where it cut me.”
She continued to stare
into the darkness where his face would be if she could see it, knowing he
could see hers in the light. “You were in so much pain. I wanted to run
get someone to come help you, but I couldn’t leave you. I was afraid you’d
think I was never coming back.”
“Eventually, we were
able to dig our way out from underneath it all and make it back here,” he
reminisced.
“Yeah.”
“What made you think of
that time, Vannie?”
“I guess because it’s a
lot like what I’m going through right now. Except I’m the one who’s been
clobbered instead of you. But mostly because, even though you kept telling
me you were going to be all right, and to go on and leave, and I wouldn’t,
that’s when you told me it was because we were meant to be together.”
He snickered. “Except I
said we were meant to be ‘togethered.’ You and me were ‘togethered.’”
She held up her pointer
and middle finger. “The two of us. ‘Two-gethered.’ You said we were meant
to be ‘two-gethered,’ come heck or high water.”
Truman chuckled this
time. “And that’s exactly what you told that old man who stopped his car
to help us when he saw us making our way back to the apartments, and he’d
seen the blood on my shirt. And he asked you why you didn’t go seek help…”
“I told him we were
‘two-gethered.’” She smiled. “That’s how I feel now. You’re here for me
the same way I was there for you. We’re ‘two-gethered.’”
He suddenly leaned
toward her and kissed her on the forehead. The act was unexpected but not
unlike him. She stared at him, wondering what he would do next. Hoping
against hope he would kiss her again, but this time on the lips. Hoping
and silently praying.
“We’re still
two-gethered,” he murmured, reaching up to tuck a bit of hair behind her
ear. “Now, let’s try to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a busy
day.”
She watched as he
rolled over, presenting his back to her. After adjusting his pillow, he
sighed and seemed to drift off. Disappointed, Evanna remained watching
him. Studying him as he fell asleep. She could tell because his shoulders
relaxed.
Scooting closer, she
spooned herself behind him and slid an arm around his waist as she nestled
her face against his right shoulder. With his scent and warmth comforting
her, she finally dozed off. |