Page 66 of High Intensity

“So…” Mom drawls as Jillian walks over to a group of waiting seniors. “I see things have progressed?”

I drop my head between my shoulders.

Why is every old person around me determined to stick their nose in my business?

No use trying to evade the question because I know my mother, she’s like the proverbial dog with a bone and won’t let go until she has an answer that satisfies her.

“Yes,” is my curt answer.

“That’s all you’ve got?” she pushes for more, and I turn to her, exasperated.

“Mom, there’s only so much detail you’ll get from me on the subject, andyesreaches that limit.”

When she presses her lips together to hide her smile, I realize she’s been pushing my buttons and enjoying every minute of it.

“I’m thinking I liked you better sedated,” I tell her.

Mom lets out a peal of laughter. It is music to my ears, even though she’s annoying me with her unapologetic probing. Fromacross the room, I see Jillian look back over her shoulder, a smile on her face.

“So how is your arm?” I ask her, firmly changing the subject.

“Irritating. I can’t even get myself dressed, and at breakfast I needed someone to cut my food for me. It’s embarrassing.”

My annoyance with her quickly disappears and is replaced with sympathy. I know how much Mom values her independence, which has been whittled away from her in increments over the past few years, but at least she had her mind and the use of her arms. Thank God her mind is still there, but she lost the use of her arm, and we’ll have to wait and see how much of its function she can get back.

Getting older sucks. I’ve already started feeling the occasional pains and stiffness age seems to bring with it. Especially after the kind of activities I was performing early this morning.

It’s bringing home the idea our time is limited. Our chance to experience life as we’d like to is limited. I useour, but really, I meanmytime. I’ve been wasting it. Not so much with what I’ve done, but more in terms of what I’ve avoided.

My eyes are drawn across the room again, where Jillian is crouching down beside one of the other residents, laughing at something the man says. If I still harbored any ambivalence about getting involved with that woman; the events of a couple of nights ago, when her safety was at stake, made it abundantly clear I was already deeply invested. My feelings were well ahead, it just took my brain a bit longer to catch up.

Besides, if a woman like her—who has lived through one of the most devastating traumas someone could endure—has the courage to open up to new beginnings, what possible excuse could I have for not doing the same?

I freely admit, it’s a little uneasy to let feelings guide my actions, but I’m sure that’ll get easier with time. Life is too short to play it safe, and I’ve been playing it safe long enough.

“Is everything all right, Lucas?” my mother asks, putting a hand on my arm.

I turn my head and smile at her. “Yeah, it’s all good, Mom.”

But of course, it isn’t, because there is still a significant threat out there; and Jillian is a target. Opening up to feelings means fear finds a foothold as well, and suddenly I’m in a hurry to get her back to the safety of the ranch.

“We could’ve stayed for dinner.”

I glance over at Jillian, reaching for her hand and weaving our fingers together. She’s sitting in the passenger side this time, wearing my too-large hat, her hair tied in a ponytail and tucked away underneath. I felt better having her within reach, rather than behind me where I wouldn’t be able to keep a physical eye on her.

“There will be plenty of opportunities for shared dinners, once things settle down.”

Settling down is a poor euphemism for neutralizing the threat to her, but we’ve had a good day and I don’t want to spoil it by highlighting the negative.

“Plenty?” she repeats in a teasing tone.

“I’d like to think so. Don’t you?”

She nods, a smile on her lips as she concedes, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

I bring her hand to my mouth and press a kiss to her knuckles, feeling pretty pleased with myself as I focus my attention back on the road. It’s already dark out, and it’s notuncommon for wildlife to cross the highway and cause an accident.

In fact, that’s just what I suspect happened when, half an hour later on a dark stretch of road between Happys Inn and the ranch, an impact suddenly has the Yukon’s back end swinging toward the ditch.

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