Page 20 of Aim High Mountain Man
After the shower, two days ago, I had been in bed, and out of it, with Chance. We finished going through Johnnie’s things, and I packed some up, but gave some to Chance. He didn’t cry, which was nice, and he shared more memories. It was nice to see him opening up and letting some of the wounds close.
He needed it.
And throughout all of this, he never brought up staying again. But I can’t lie and say I didn’t think about it, because I did.
It’s been on repeat since it was uttered.
I wanted to stay, I wanted to be with him, but was it too fast? Too soon?
I was so much older than him, but for us, it didn’t feel like a problem. We talked to each other, we understood each other, we fit better than I thought we would.
Far more than I had with anyone else before.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I turned my attention from the window to him and offered him a smile. He sat down next to me on the couch, his arm moving along the back.
“You seemed deep in thought.”
“I am,” I told him.
I glanced down at my hands, but he quickly took them in his, his thumb brushing along the back of it. Even such a simple touch could tame my runaway thoughts.
“What’s going on, baby?”
“Is it too soon? Too fast? Is the age gap too wide? What would people say?” I blurted out.
“Woah, back it up. What is all of this?”
“Chance,” I said, turning to face him. He didn’t seem so young now, not with the concern and worry on his face. Not that I was a grandmother, but still, I was quite a bit older. “I’m thinking about what you said, about me living with you.”
“I like that way that sounds.”
I fought the grin and lost. Because I liked the way it sounded too.
“What about it? You think I care about anything that you listed?” he countered.
“No, I don’t think you do. Especially not about people.”
“Look, Johanna, I want you, plain and simple. Other people, they don’t bother me. I know you might think you’re too old or people might look at us if and when we go to town, but honestly, you’re wrong. I’m telling you; you don’t look your age. If I honestly saw you walking down the street, the last thing on my mind would be that you are as old as you are.
“Baby, to me, you don’t look a day over thirty. In fact, younger. I can see why men might be surprised that you had a kid, because you don’t look to be that old. Not to mention the good head you have on your shoulders. I’m telling you; their loss is my gain because you are just the perfect package. And let me tell you, I rather enjoy this package.”
“Do you think you might get tired of me?”
“No, I don’t. Do you think you’d get tired of me? I might still be waking up in night terrors for years to come.”
And that broke my heart.
Because when he had them that first night, the anguish I heard had me sitting upright, clenching my own chest. And I did the only thing I could think of; run to him to help him. To hold him. To be there for him. I did the same thing last night when he had them; I was just there for him.
And I couldn’t think of walking away from him now. Not ever, actually.
So, there was my answer.
As crazy as this was, I wanted to be here. But I needed to know one thing before I could answer him.
“You had a lot of pain, you still do. There’s still lots for you to work on.”
