Page 73 of Mountain Grump
But even then, even with the idea of a new future before me, I never counted on Ethan.
Never could’ve dreamed him up.
I lift my empty hand and bring my fingertips to my lips.
Even if we stop here.
Even if I only ever see him again in passing.
Even if I never touch him again.
I have no regrets.
My smile grows as a sense of pride fills my chest.
I can’t believe he came in his pants.
Because of me.
Taking another sip of coffee, I appreciate the stillness around me.
It’s amazing, the difference between here and where I came from.
If I’d had a patio to sit on at my old apartment—which I didn’t—I’d be listening to traffic. To horns honking. To sirens. To people talking and laughing and shouting.
I wouldn’t be in sweatpants.
I’d be in a skimpy dress, and I’d still be sweating my boobs off.
I’d be drinking an iced coffee, not a hot one.
I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of the mountain.
The leaves shifting in the breeze. The happy, chirping birds.
I really, truly get it, Uncle Jack.
I’m still not sure what I’ll do for work. But I’m not going to stress about it. I’ll get by.
My eyes open, and I tilt my head to the side.
Is that…?
I stand and carry my coffee through the empty screen door, into the house.
My bare feet are quiet on the floor as I cross the living room.
Beauty and the Beastwas playing while I fell asleep, but this morning, I turned the TV off.
I decided to absorb the silence.
But then I opened the windows, and the house filled with birdsong. It’s still quiet, but not the overwhelming silence I’ve been dreading.
And through the open front windows, I hear the unmistakable sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway.
Opening the front door, I step outside, mug in hand, and wait for Ethan.
The noise of tires on gravel gets louder.
