I’m not sure how I’d have felt about the forwardness of his joke, if it wasn’t for the boyish laugh that followed it.
But because of that laugh, I kinda liked it, and my face showed that with a faint blush.
I could see from behind that he was adjusting his throat, shifting the discomfort.
And then I didn’t see much else.
We moved into the trees, darkness closing in on thick branches.
“It’s notmuch farther.” His voice was lower, strained.
I found myself scanning, taking in the darkness around me.
Deep in the woods, his hand slipped from mine. He glanced for watchful eyes. . . no one’s except mine stared back.
He opened out his backpack, tilting it to the floor, and out she popped—his furry friend.
Surprise caught me, my eyes blinking at the sight of a tiny fluffy tail.
I gawked at Woodrow, shocked that I hadn’t seen any evidence of a living creature on the entire journey. She hadn’t moved, gnawed, or squeaked.
“Climb on up,” he told me, looking at a nearby tree. A grand oak that could surely watch over the entire land if it wasn’t surrounded by its leafy army.
I continued to gawk at him, mouth open, amazed he thought I had the ability to scale a tree, in giant flip-flops, no less.
“Go to the other side. There's a ladder built into the bark.”
I didn’t object. Even with my mouth still wide, no words tried to creep out.
I mounted the tree, my fingers gripping the ladder—a dozen slats nailed a foot apart—my feet following. For a second, I froze, listening as Woodrow talked to Bonny, and watching and appreciating his gentle touches along her fur. I didn’t move as he pulled a container from his backpack, lifting a lid to reveal a salad just for her.
I continued to climb the rest of the steps as a smile climbed onto my lips. By the time I reached the last slat, Woodrow was on my tail.
I moved to a large square of wood—something that wasn’t part of the tree but attached to it.
“It used to be a tree house.” Woodrow smiled at me, shiny teeth catching my eye. “I think maybe my granddaddy built it for my father. It was pretty much destroyed before I ever discovered it.”
A tree house, vacant of so many parts and rotting, was now nothing but the remainder of many happy memories.
“I did warn you this wouldn't be a five-star date.”
I laughed, brushing away fallen leaves, and shifting to a place the nesting birds above hadn’t deemed their bathroom. “It's perfect.” I smiled back at him, always willing to appreciate the smaller things in life—because they made the biggest statements.
I took a fallen leaf between my fingers, admiring its beauty while Woodrow pulled out a small blanket and a few food containers.
He laid the blanket out. Its blue fabric was soft against my skin as I moved into its center.
“I apologize for Bonny sitting on our breakfast.”
“I’m just shocked that you could fit so much in one backpack. Reminds me of a cartoon I used to watch.”
A smile lifted his lips, his dimple again appearing on his cheek as the smile grew.
“When did you sneak her inside? I didn’t see her last night,” I wondered, as I helped him to remove container lids.
“I saw her through my window a little while later.”
With all the containers open, the smell of fresh bread wrapped me in a trance. A sandwich calling from the first container.Eat me, eat me.
