I gasp and point to the sky. “Look! There was one! A shooting star!”
Jake chuckles and kisses the top of my head. “Make a wish.”
I know exactly what I want: more of this. This, for as long as I can feasibly have it. This, frozen in time. Would Jake and I even survive in the real world?
That’s all speculation, but I can share what’s been on my mind for a while.
“Hey, remember the night we hooked up for the first time?—”
“Yes, it was like three weeks ago.”
“Shut up,” I whine. “I know. I was there. Let me say the thing.”
“Say it,” he says, patting my hair again.
“You asked me what I want. All I could think about was that I want you. I want this. I want nights under the stars and sitting on the porch swing wrapped up in a quilt with you.” That part makes me surprisingly emotional, choking my words, but I go on. “I want the mountains and the holler and the creek, and even Paint in all of its Mayberry-like charm. I want this feeling, this moment in time, forever.”
Jake’s quiet, his hand no longer moving on me.
“Please don’t tell me I can’t have that,” I say. “I already know that. I can’t freeze time. It’s just what I want.”
Jake’s lips meet my temple, his voice gritty when he speaks. “I wasn’t going to tell you that. I was going to tell you it’s what I want too.”
His swallow is audible, as well as a long, deep breath. I shiver at his words.
“You remember when we were on my kitchen floor, and I said I wanted to bring you peace?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“And you said you wanted to give me the same, you know, peace. What I didn’t say is that I think maybe you are my peace, Darcy. Even at your most chaotic—” he huffs before going on, “you feel like home to me. You are peace. And I know we haven’t known each other long but I want to freeze it forever too.”
“I don’t want to ruin now worrying about forever, though,” I say.
“I don’t either. I think we can do our best to live in the present.”
I turn into him, hugging his ribcage while he wraps his arm around my shoulder. We stay that way for a long time: my ear to his chest, listening to his breath and his heart, his lips pressing into the top of my head.
If nothing else, we’ll always have this summer.
FORTY-FIVE
JAKE
Darcy stirswhen I get up just before dawn. “Is it time?” her groggy voice asks.
I sit on the edge of the bed and kiss her temple. “No. I’m just going to take Cane out for a ride. I’ll see you after while. Get some more sleep.”
“I should come out with you. He’ll throw you again.”
“Just a ride, boss. Even you can ride him,” I say. “Go back to sleep.”
I scoop Stormy up and place her against Darcy’s stomach, letting her spoon her cat. She hums and nestles down into the sheets. “Be careful, cowboy.”
“I will.”
I’ve been leading Cane around the barrels a couple times a week now, enjoying the quiet time alone with him in the mornings. With the stress of preparing for the fall semester and waiting on that stupid robot part to come in, I need something just for me. My time with Darcy is relaxing. I love coaching the kids. But Cane and I have gotten closer as the summer’s gone on.
Even with Darcy, there’s something of a don’t-look-down element. Our time together is joyful, but part of that is because we’re not discussing what happens at the end of the summer. We’re in that new phase of a relationship where just catching a whiff of each other leads to sex. From past relationships, I know this phase doesn’t last forever, and so does Darcy. We’re just trying to let it be what it is—or at least I am.
