Page 40 of Apex of the Curve

Chapter Eleven

Aspen…

“What time will you be home? My pops is planning on grilling up some meat for the three of us.”

Home…

I wished that it was, wistfully thinking back on the night before – falling asleep in Fenris’ arms, feeling absurdly protected and safe even though I wasn’t in any sort of danger. It was like he had held me together and the candlelight and soft drumming and rhythmic vocals of whatever we listened to soothed the soul, lulling me into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I can’t say how absolutely invaluable the dreamless part of that was to me. It was priceless.

So priceless that when the morning had arrived and my alarm had gone off, I hadn’t wanted to get up and for a completely different reason than the weight of my sorrow holding me down.

I hadn’t wanted to get up because I was so… content. I don’t think I was ready to go as far as happy yet, but it was close. Closer than I had been in a long time. The feeling returned with hearing his deep and velvety tone over the telephone’s line.

“Aspen?”

“Sorry!” I said quickly. “Lost in thought for a moment, there. Um, it’s Paint Night here and I won’t be off until something like ten… I thought I had said something. If that’s too late to come back, I can always go back to Tacoma tonight.”

He chuckled, and I looked out over my little shop. I was just about to set the long tables for tonight’s Paint Night. I would much rather spend the evening with Fenris in the countryside, but I also had a divorce to pay for and a myriad of other bills that would be due next month just as they had been this month.

“No, don’t do that. Just come this way when you’re done and we can reheat it.”

“Don’t wait to eat on my account, please.”

“Don’t you worry about that. By the time you make it back, I’ll probably be hungry again.”

I smiled at the smile in his voice.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“See you around ten-thirty, eleven o’clock?”

“Absolutely, I look forward to it,” I said.

“Good.”

I ended the call and with a gusty sigh started the process of setting up for tonight’s Paint Night. Some were better than others, and tonight was looking to be decent with twenty ladies or so signed up via the website.

It was a harrowing few hours when the ladies finally arrived, but I loved the paint nights and classes. It made me happy sharing the joy of shaping the earth into beautiful things with other people. Typically, my clientele ranged from the extremely creative to the people who thought they weren’t good at anything with a creative bent. I loved to prove the latter wrong when I could, but sometimes shaping clay just really wasn’t their thing. Still, I definitely encouraged them to find for themselves what was up their alley. Everyone deserved to find some kind of joy in life.

Tonight’s Paint Night was good, a lot of laughter and more than a few inappropriately wonderful jokes. I had a good time, despite myself and my desire to be back in the country. The little goat farm was utterly peaceful and charming and the quiet stillness… I was quickly becoming addicted, I think.

I was looking forward to spending time on it in the daylight. I think Fenris was right, I needed a break. Just some time to get away from it all, to catch my breath, to feel my feelings and to allow my broken spirit to mend just that little bit so that when I did turn to face the monumental tasks in front of me, my grief and the loss I felt wasn’t quite so monstrous and I had enough of me restored to give to the tasks at hand.

I did a cursory cleanup around the shop, surveyed it all, and decided that it would be alright if I left the rest until morning when I opened. I was tired, and I wanted to go back to Fenris’ farm, have a bite, and sleep.

I seriously wanted nothing more than to sleep lately. I honestly thought I could sleep for a thousand days and nights and it still wouldn’t feel like enough.

God, I was depressed, but could you blame me?

“I hope this wears off soon. I don’t know how long I can honestly live like this,” I said to no one in particular. I was alone… but I didn’t feel lonely anymore. At least, not nearly as much.

Fenris was such an unexpected gift in that regard.

The drive back to that little slice of farmland and countryside between Auburn and Black Diamond felt excruciatingly long. It felt like the only thing keeping me awake was the glow from the navigational display on my phone, and the mechanical woman’s voice from Google Maps. I turned my little car as instructed automatically and was relieved when the rush of pavement turned to the crunch of gravel beneath my tires.

The turn onto the gravel drive took me through a short tunnel of trees. The foliage, a natural privacy screen around the property, made it feel a little like a hidden oasis of peace during the day. At night, like this, it was foreboding, bordering on menacing.

---