Page 105 of A Bloom in Winter

On the way to the exit, Crawie paused. “Oh, and I taped all your game shows. I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d had a chance to watch them.”

“Oh, I haven’t! Thank you.”

The older female raised a hand, and then departed. After which . . .

Mahrci looked at Hemmy. “She is everything to me.Everything.”

“I can see that, and it makes me happy. You need someone like her in your life.” He frowned. “But—taping shows? Does anybody do that anymore?”

“Oh, she takes that job very seriously. She has backup VCRs for parts, and a closet full of blank tapes she got off eBay. She doesn’t want to learn any new technology. Says there’s no room in her brain for it—and when you have her chicken pot pie, you won’t want any of her memory replaced with how to work streaming services.”

Hemmy laughed. “Sounds good. And you like game shows?”

“Oh, I do! I love a good puzzle, especially the word-search kinds likeWheel of Fortune.Come on, let me show you to our”—she winked at him—“yourroom.”

The door to the basement stairs was not far—because nothing was far in the little barn. And at the bottom, there were three bedrooms: a primary suite, which Crawie had always refused to sleep in, and then on the far side of the living area two others that shared a bathroom.

Mahrci hesitated in front of the door to the suite.

Then she looked up at Hemmy.

That was all it took.

No telling who kissed who first. But they squeezed through the narrow doorway together, the duffle bags grabbing on to the jamb until Hemmy dropped them both. The next thing she knew, he was dragging the luggage in with his foot and then bumping the door closed with his hip.

Over to the bed. On the bed. He was on top.

She went for his pants. He went for hers.

And then came The Great Shoewear Debacle.

The entanglements were epic because of their impatience, and they were both laughing as they tried to get each other’s laces undone.

Screw what they were wearing on top. When the pants were off on both sides, with his boots and her trail shoes kicked all over the floor, she pulled him back onto her. Arching up, shesplit her legs and reached down—but he was already there with his touch.

As she met him in the eyes, it came out, even though it probably would have been better to keep it to herself, given how early it was.

But at least he also said the words:

“I think I love you—”

“I know I love you—”

They both laughed as she got a little teary. And then he became very serious. “I know this is spur-of-the-moment, Mahrci. I know . . . I know all the reasons I should hold back. But I go with the flow—and you are who and what I want.”

Mahrci stroked his face, a brilliant flare of happiness making her feel incandescent. Except then everything that was really going on nearly wrecked her.

“We need to talk,” she said gravely. “Before you—”

“If you think there is anything that will change my mind about you, you’re wrong. I’m here, I’m down for whatever, and I’m serious about staying. I can handle myself, I’m not scared of anyone or anything . . . and I’ve spent a lifetime looking for you, even though I didn’t know your name or your face.”

“B-but—but—”

“No buts. If you feel differently, fine. That’s okay. But there’s nothing you need to tell me on my side.”

With sadness, she exhaled. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yeah, I do. I’ve lived through prison. For fifty years.” He assumed a wry expression. “Although honestly, that’s just because I had nothing else to do and I thought it would be a fun challenge to see if I could survive it.”

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