“I’m staying. Getting in was the hard part,” I said, not sure I believed that.
Devin snorted. “Funny, you never seem to have any trouble…”
“Are youteasingme?” I asked, widening my eyes innocently. “Teasing me right when I’m being so vulnerable with you?”
“Teasing you right when you could drown me if you wanted,” Devin said, grinning. “I trust you with my life,” he added.
Somehow,thatwas the thing I needed to hear. I trusted Devin with my life, too. I knew he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.
“Grab hold of the edge,” he said, squeezing my hand. “And we’ll just… walk along until your feet won’t touch the bottom anymore. All the way over the other end.”
That didn’t sound so bad, and it wasn’t so hard to grab on with one hand and follow Devin along the side.
His feet stopped touching the bottom long before mine did, and I could see his legs cycling in the water as we reached the point where I was on tiptoes.
“I’d say it’s literally just like riding a bike, but I know that’s not gonna help you.”
“It’s not the leg part I have trouble with,” I pointed out, shoring up my grip on the ledge.
“Come on,” Devin tugged gently on my arm. “Trust me.”
I trusted him. OfcourseI trusted him.
Gathering all my courage, I let go of the ledge and lifted my toes off the bottom, letting Devin help me as I made my way out into clear water, legs kicking automatically.
That was a nice surprise.
“I got you,” Devin said, but I wasn’t so much listening to him as watching the way his whole face shone with love and pride, lips spreading into a broad grin.
He wasproudof me. I’d made him proud.
“Take your time, your body knows what to do,” he said. “You have a lot less trouble when you’re not thinking so hard.”
“You asking me to stop thinking?” I raised an eyebrow.
“You know Iloveyour enormous brain,” Devin said. “But sometimes you need to switch it off. You murmured half a poem to me last night. What was it?”
He was trying to distract me, and I couldn’t help but appreciate that.
“Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, enwrought with golden and silver light, the blue and the dim and the dark cloths, of night and light and the half light, I would spread the cloths under your feet,” I said, remembering.
“What does enwrought mean?” Devin asked while I was taking a breath to continue.
“It means like… made of or decorated with. In this poem it’s probably more decorated with than made of, although if they’re heaven’s cloths they could bemadeof gold and silver, I guess. He’s probably just repeating the part about embroidery.”
“I only remember the part about dreams,” Devin said. “Something about… treading on dreams?”
“But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet—tread softly, because you tread on my dreams,” I recited.
Devin’s face softened. “That’sdefinitelya love poem,” he said, grinning enthusiastically all over again.
“You make me think of ‘em,” Morgan said. “I haven’t thought about that one in years.”
“Who’s it by?” Devin asked.
“Yeats,” I said. “W. B. Yeats. He was Irish.”
“He was a romantic,” Devin said. “Just like you.”
