Page 22 of Whiskey & Honey

“This kitchen. It’s a dream kitchen, Ben. I have a Pinterest board dedicated to dream kitchens and this is what they all look like. You have to get this house. It’s too perfect to let go.”

“I agree. Of course, this doesn’t get me out of my parents’ house any faster but it is a great investment.”

I look down at my watch and see that we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now. “We should go; Ash will have a meltdown if we’re late.”

Silently, Piper tilts her head in contemplation and, instead of walking out of the kitchen, she walks to the back door and places her hand to the piece of stained glass that sits in the center of the door. It’s a simple design that projects little prisms all over the room, almost like a kaleidoscope. After a few heartbeats with her hand on the glass she turns and offers me a small closed-mouth smile before heading toward the front door.

Once outside, she begins walking toward the back of the house. Again, I follow. Piper stops to stand in the knee-high dead grass with the sun shining bright; she’s never looked more beautiful or serene. I walk up behind her and place my hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t move, but I feel her take a deep breath and I swear I also hear a sniffle.

“Just beyond that tree line is a stream. It’s not much, but it’ll be great for a little after-work fishing, that’s for sure.”

Only nodding in response I hear it again, a sniffle. This time, instead of ignoring the sound I turn her toward me. Those tears that were lingering are now freely falling. What is going on? I place my finger to her chin to catch one as it falls.

“What is it? What’s wrong, Piper?” I can’t hide my concern or confusion in my voice.

“It’s nothing, I’m being silly,” she says, gently shaking her head. I won’t be swayed.

“It isn’t nothing, Princess. Why are you crying?”

“The house. This land. It’s all … it’s all so familiar.”

“What do you mean, familiar? Have you been here before?”

She shakes her head no and another tear falls on my hand that is now tipping her face up. I look into those gorgeous eyes. The lightest brown with gold flakes, they never cease to take my breath away. For a brief moment time stands still. I want to kiss her.

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I won’t think you’re crazy, but you’re kind of freaking me out here.” She offers me a tentative smile.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve had a recurring dream. It’s silly really. These dreams have always come and gone but they never change. There’s a long drive, a beautiful house.” She pauses and another tear drops.

I wipe the stray tear from her cheek as she puts her hand on mine and lowers my hand from her face but doesn’t let go of my hand.

“You used to dream of my house? This house?” I ask, and she nods.

“It’s just a coincidence. I don’t know why I’m crying,” she says, releasing my hand and wiping the remaining tears from her face.

“Hey,” I say and she looks up at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I just felt overwhelmed. I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t leave me more time to get ready or I’d be Rocky Raccoon with my makeup a hot mess,” she jokes.

“You could never look a hot mess, Princess. We really should get going.”

She agrees and we fall in pace side by side back to the truck. Once we’re both in I start the truck and look at Piper. She’s staring out the window, but the tears seem to have stopped.

It’s silent for a few minutes as I drive toward my parents’ house. Thankfully, the tension from the earlier silent treatment is gone.

“Thank you for taking me there, Ben. I can’t believe that house actually exists. That’s so crazy. What are the chances?”

“It’s a pretty run-of-the-mill farmhouse, Pipe. You probably saw one when you were little and it stuck with you.”

“No, Ben. I mean it was the house. The porch, foyer, and kitchen, all of it. Even that little stained glass window in the kitchen. All of that was from my dreams.”

The look on her face as she tells me this is one I want to memorize. She is equal parts excited, mesmerized, and a little scared. I imagine it’s similar to the look I have each time I touch her.

“The stained glass?” I ask.

She nods in response.

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