Page 36 of Midnight and Mine

“Sweet dreams, wild girl,” I mutter under my breath and head to the bathroom to shower. When I come out, I knock on her door, and she says, “Come in.”

“I thought I would grab the Gator and your camera. You can take photos around the farm.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“I keep telling you that I’m fun.”

With a brief sugary smile, she admits, “I’m beginning to believe you.”

“Nancy is coming this morning to change your dressing and give you a shower. Or I can do it if you want,” I joke, but not really. I have washed Wynter from head to toe hundreds of times. Mainly after shower sex but still.

She hurls a pillow at me. “In your dreams.”

“Or maybe in yours.”

Her face flushes, as I assume she recalls her dream from an hour ago.

An hour later, I come back with her camera and our Gator, a recreational utility vehicle. Nancy is standing on the porch, talking with Wynter and her parents. Wynter’s hair is in a ponytail with bouncy curls. She looks fucking amazing. She stands, leaning on the porch rail with her pink cast.

Nancy catches me before she leaves. “She seems to be gaining her memories. She’s scheduled with a psychologist next week, but it’s up to you if you think she’ll need it by then. She hasn’t figured out you’re her husband?”

I shake my head, “No, but she’s having dreams about me.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “So, I’m sure she’ll know who I am soon.”

Unhooking the heavy duty tie-down straps, I release the Gator, roll it down the ramp from my truck bed, and jog up to the steps. “You ready?”

“Can’t wait. Be back soon,” she says, waving at her parents.

I hoist her onto my back, carrying her to the Gator. When I set her down, she notices her camera and immediately fiddles with it. She hasn’t forgotten how to change or adjust lenses. I downloaded her photos from it because before the photos she took the day of the accident, there were pregnancy pictures of us that she had Vanessa take with her camera. We’re kissing, hugging, and I’m feeling her stomach.

Wynter immediately pulls the camera to her eye and takes a photo of me.

“Not me… landscape.”

We ride through her parents’ ten-acre farm, and with each bump jostling her around, I slow down. She gives me an eye roll and frown as we pull up to the creek’s edge. It’s always been one of our spots. I help her out, and she leans on me to walk without putting pressure on her broken leg. “You smell good.” She appears surprised, looking at me with wide eyes.

“Do I usually smell bad?”

“Like moldy cheese.” I raise my eyebrows, looking down my shoulder at her. Those hazel eyes peer up at me as she grins. “Kidding. The best way to describe the way your smell is fresh.”

“Good to know. Lean against this tree while I get the blanket.” I spread the blanket out and set the small Kentucky Stallions cooler on the edge. “Do you want to sit, or do you want to walk around to take photos?”

“Let’s sit, and we’ll see what catches my eye.”

Her legs are long for her height, and they stretch out in front of her. She’s repainted her toes to blue. “When did you change your toenail polish?”

Wynter wiggles her toes in the cast. “It seems we missed the national championship game while I was in the hospital. Even though we lost to those who will remain unmentioned, I wanted to show my state basketball pride.. See?” Her little toes have little crystals in a basketball design. “Vanessa did it for me.”

“I was listening to the Final Four game on the way home from Lexington when I was called by search and rescue. I… never thought you would be the person Bravo and I were searching for. It was surreal when I found you. Devastating, actually.” I pick up a few blades of grass, twisting them around my finger, pulling them apart, and throwing them into the springtime wind. “And once you were in the hospital, I would have completely forgotten if it hadn’t been on in the hospital waiting rooms.”

She leans on my arm, caressing me like I’m the one who needs comforting. Inside, she knows we belong together. Everything is so easy between us. But just like our first eight years, she’s stubborn, not wanting to admit it to herself. Being an only child, she was the center of attention, and that didn’t change in our friend group. She was always the one wanting to push boundaries. Mark, Vanessa, and Jess weren’t far behind, while Beau and I attempted to keep us out of jail and safe. I’m not saying we didn’t participate; we did. But we made sure phones were charged, and we had service.

“I’m sorry I scared you. Ooh, look at that butterfly.”

She pulls the camera to her eye, focusing on the grayish insect. The camera shutter clicks with precision several times in a row. The sound is sharp followed by a gentle, echoing whir, but what I notice is the way her lips tip into a smile behind the large piece of equipment.

Resting the camera in her lap, she switches to view the photos and shows me. Wynter has captured its wings in mid-flutter, then extended all the way. “It’s beautiful—teal, gray and orange. I never think of a butterfly in these colors.”

“I remember loving nature. I don’t know what my house looks like, but I imagine it reflects the colors of the outdoors. This butterfly’s colors combined with grays and blacks is calming.”

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