Page 50 of You, with a View

I bring the viewfinder to my eye. It feels too intimate to catch Theo in my lens, to bring him closer to me with a quick adjustment to the zoom. The angles of his face are so close I could touch them. I want to spread the heat from the air and the sun onto his skin, down his neck, into his chest.

Iwanthim closer, even though he’s safer at a distance.

With my heart flying, I press my finger on the shutter release. It’s my first picture of Theo. But I doubt it’ll be my last.

The memory of Theo’s face is still imprinted hours later as Las Vegas comes into view, a neon blanket over the night-black valley below.

“I wish it wasn’t so dark.” Paul tsks, squinting out the window. “I’ve got a letter here. I should’ve thought of it when we were in Death Valley.”

“We can do it now,” I blurt excitedly. My hand shoots out, landing on his knee.

With a chuckle, Paul reaches over to the cardigan lying on the other seat, pulling out the letter.

Theo glances over as I smooth it out on my lap. “How are you planning on reading that?”

“I’m going to turn on the light and read it out loud.”

“I won’t be able to see the road if you turn it on.”

This letter is getting read right now, come hell or high water. “That’s an old dad’s tale, you know. The car isn’t going to crash because you turn on a reading light.”

Even in the darkness, I can see his eyes roll.

“Here, I’ll do you a solid and use my phone’s flashlight. I’ll even turn it down so you can still concentrate.”

He sighs but doesn’t argue. A win.

“Paul, what’s the story with this one?” I ask.

“Oh, this one is quite self-explanatory. I can answer questions after, if you have any.”

“She will,” Theo says.

I toss him a glare, then clear my throat. “All right, here we go.”

The van is silent save for my voice as I start to read Gram’s words out loud.

November 17, 1956

Dear Paul,

Have you read F. Scott Fitzgerald? Probably not. Your nose is always stuck in a photography book.

There’s a quote that reminds me of us: “They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.”

When you told me you loved me last week, the—

I whirl in my seat. “This is when you told her you loved her?”

Theo snorts. “You say that like you didn’t know it was coming.”

“Excuse me, this is a huge moment.”

He gives me a sardonic look. “We’re on a road trip that’s following the honeymoon they never had. Mentally prepare yourself for the rest, Shep.”

I shoot an aggrieved look at Paul, who simply grins, then return to the letter.

When you told me you loved me last week, the happiness I felt was almost too much to bear. It’s been just over two months since I met you, and you’ve quickly become the most important person in my life. Before that, it was my family, and now they have to share me with you, though they don’t know it yet.

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