Page 87 of Dear Henry, Love Edith
Setting the pathetic peace offering next to him on the top porch step, Henry stretched his legs out. With time and plenty of rehab, he was back to performing all his usual activities. But the stiffness never went away. Probably never would. Just like, he imagined, the ache in his heart if Edith had already left him for good.
What am I supposed to do here, God? I want to be with Edith, but... what if she doesn’t want to stay? You can’t reallyexpect me to go with her. Not now. Why would you hand me this opportunity if you wanted me to leave?
“Oh, my—” A muffled scream startled Henry from his prayer. He looked up to see Edith clutching one hand to her chest and holding the other out to brace herself. “Jeepers,” she said. “What are you doing sneaking around in the dark like that? Don’t you know I could have shot you?”
“Sneaking? I’m sitting on the porch. And what exactly would you have shot me with?”
“I don’t know. A Winchester ’73?”
“Winchester ’73? I’m thinking more likeThe Shakiest Gun in the Westif you’re going to be naming movie titles. Pie?”
Despite shadows obscuring most of her features, Henry caught the small smile on her lips as she grabbed the container and sat down on the step next to him. “Or ratherThe Fastest Gun Aliveyou mean. I’d make an excellent shot, you know.”
“Sure you would. I’ve seen what kind of steady aim you have with popcorn.”
She punched him in the shoulder. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Being so likable. Not when I’m trying to be mad at you. It’s not fair.”
Henry twisted on the step to face her. “Listen, about this morning—”
“No, Henry, you don’t have to say anything. It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay—I made a complete idiot of myself—but it’s okay. I think it’s what needed to happen, honestly. I wasn’t trying to get you to apologize.”
“I do want to apologize.”
“You don’t need to.”
“But I want to.”
Edith stood and climbed the porch steps. “Well, I don’t want you to, okay? I don’t want to hear it. It doesn’t matter whether you’re sorry or not sorry. Or what kind of pie you brought. Unless it’s peach. Is that peach? Nope, doesn’t matter. I’ve decided to leave. So if you want to apologize, fine. But honestly it might be a whole lot easier for the both of us if you didn’t.”
“Wait—” Henry clambered after her with the pie in one hand, gripping the porch rail with his other.
“No, listen,” Edith said, pausing to swipe her hair from her eyes with shaky fingers. “I know I said a lot of things this morning. Things I shouldn’t have said. It was crazy to think we could ever make a real marriage out of a pretend relationship. I think we both—”
Henry kissed her, dropping the pie container to the ground. He cupped both sides of her face. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He was sorry he wasn’t there for her this morning. He was sorry he wasn’t up-front about his feelings sooner. He was sorry for how much time he’d wasted this summer—how much time he’d wasted in his life.
Feeling her stiffen beneath his grasp, he loosened his hold, prepared to be pushed away. Prepared to have another reason to apologize.
He was not prepared for her to grab on to him and deepen the kiss. “Henry,” she murmured, her entire body molding against him.Sweet mercy.
And suddenly it was like their first kiss again. She wrappedher arms around his neck like her life depended on him, and he couldn’t help sliding his hands behind her back to press her tighter against him. When they finally came up for air, he had her pressed against the front door, their breaths tangled and heaving.
“Come with me,” she said.
“What?”
“Come with me.”
“Edith.” Henry wanted to come with her, all right. Inside and straight to the bedroom. But he knew that wasn’t what she meant. And even if it was, he knew he couldn’t say yes. “I can’t.”
“Why not? What’s keeping you here? You’ve said it yourself: you’re bored. So come to South Africa with me and we can do something amazing. Together.”
“I am doing something amazing.”
“What? Painting walls? You could do so much more than that and you know it.”
