4
Fran
“Ah, baby, don’t cry.”
I wrapped Mark up in my arms and stroked a hand over his back. He was such a strong man, one of the strongest I’d ever known, and I loved that he’d never been afraid to be vulnerable with me.
I buried my face in his hair, which smelled like my shampoo, and that soothed the ache in my chest.
Mark lifted his face to mine. “You’re sure, though? About me? Us?”
I nodded. “I’ve never been more sure. After you fell asleep last night, I stayed awake watching you sleep.” I frowned. “Which… kinda sounds creepy in retrospect…”
Mark burst out laughing.
“But I was thinking about you saying that you wished I’d called you, and maybe I should have. Maybe I wasted time we could have had together—”
“Or maybe we needed time apart so we’d reallyknowhow much we wanted this?” Mark suggested.
I nodded. “Maybe that. But you should never doubt how much I care for you. You’ve been in my heart since the day I left you. I’ve thought of you every day, and I… Wait. Let me show you instead.” I smiled and grabbed his hand. “Come see.”
“See what?”
“My workshop.”
I bundled Mark into his coat, which had been drying by the fire, and a pair of my tall boots that came up over his sweatpants, then I opened the back door and quickly shoveled a path off the porch and down the stairs.
The storm was entirely over, leaving a pristine landscape of sparkling snow behind that somehow seemed a little warmer and less desolate because Mark was with me.
Mark stood on the porch with his hands tunneled into his pockets and squinted out at it, a little smile on his face.
“Wait until you see this clearing in spring when there are so many shades of green it’ll hurt your eyes,” I told him. “Or summer, when the wildflowers come up. Or in fall when the leaves change. That oak over there goes bright orange and— What?” I broke off, because Mark was grinning like a loon.
He shook his head slightly. “Not a thing. Just happy.”
Phoebe scratched at the door behind him, clearlynotas happy.
“You can let her out,” I said, “but unless you feel like running through four feet of snow to chase her down, maybe hold her collar until we get inside the workshop.” I hooked a thumb toward the low clapboard building maybe twenty feet away from the porch.
“Sure. And then I really have to call down to town and let my friends know I’m okay before they send out a search party.”
I hesitated. “You think they’d come up here?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about having people in my space. Mark didn’t count, of course, since he wasmyperson and I wanted this to be his space, too.
“I mean… they might?” Mark frowned. “And even if they don’t today, if I were living here I’d probably want them to come sometimes. Would that be a problem?”
“No.” Except that it felt like Mark and I were in a bubble, just the two of us. I didn’t want anything to ruin that.
“I think you might really like them if you give them a chance,” Mark said gently. “And…” He hesitated, then said, “Last time we were together, you and I shared so much, but we were never really involved in one another’s daily lives. You never introduced me to your coworkers. I never took you to meet my sister. And I think maybe that’s because we knew it was temporary and we wanted to keep our time together just forus. But this time, if this is going to be permanent…”
“It is,” I said firmly.
“It is,” he agreed. “So maybe that’s something that needs to change. Just think about it, okay?”
I nodded. I pushed open the door into the chilly workshop and lit the fire. The place was well-insulated, arguably even better than the house, but it still took a minute to warm up when I first came out.
A minute later, Mark and Phoebe bounded in after me, Phoebe shaking the snow off her coat and Mark stomping it from his boots.
“Oh, wow. This isnotwhat it looked like from outside.” Mark’s eyes roamed around the cozy room, over my drafting table and the desk with my computer setup, then to the large wooden workbench at the back of the room.
