5. Jasper
Chapter 5
Jasper
I pull my jacket closer as I trudge up the icy sidewalk to Ma’s house. It’s been five weeks since I had the best night of my life. I’ve hired a private investigator and gotten a full report on Thea. I know she’s the top talent manager in Nashville and that she lives in an expensive apartment on the better side of town.
I have her phone number and all of her contact information, but I haven’t reached out. Every time I start to, I remind myself she asked me not to. Her request is the only thing that keeps me from charging into her life and demanding she marry me right now. She had to have felt our connection too…didn’t she?
“Oh, look at you. You’re the bestest boy,” Emma May croons as she feeds another one of the cats on her front porch. I swear, I think she’s adopted every lost cat in a five-mile radius.
There’s something about Emma May. She’s one of those people that was clearly meant to be a mother. She had five children of her own. When she was done raising them, she began fostering, too. I was one of the foster sons that she took in.
“Hey, Ma,” I call out softly, so I don’t startle her.
She looks up from the gray cat she’s stroking with obvious affection. “You’re early.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I explain. I don’t sleep now that Thea isn’t in my arms. For months after my leg was gone, I’d wake up in the middle of the night feeling that something was missing. The loss of my limb haunted me for a long time.
Losing Thea feels the same way. The pain wakes me up in the night. My body and my heart know I’m missing something. Something that’s vital to my survival.
She frowns at her car then at the driveway. “Have you been coming around my place putting salt on my driveway and scraping the frost off my car? Happens every winter. Then in the spring, the gutters are always clean.”
I shake my head. I have no idea who’s doing something so nice for her. “I’m here because you called me about the bookshelves.”
She glances one more time at her car then sets her newest adoptee onto the soft, cushioned bench. “Whoever it is, I’m sure God knows. He’ll bless them.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I agree quietly. She’s always been a person of faith. She doesn’t attend church regularly, but the way she talks about Jesus, you’d swear the two of them are best friends. I’ve never had that kind of faith. Always been a little too scraggly and a little too scarred to reach for that.
I follow her into the house where she’s already pulled two eighty-pound boxes into the house. She’s done it by herself. She didn’t need my help, but I still settle on the floor with the power drill. She could have put these together by herself in an hour or two.
Ma is fearless and despite her sixty years of age, she’s still independent. She does whatever she wants, and no one can tell her what to do. Not even Dr. Cash, who’s been begging her to slow down for the past two years.
She settles on the floor too, her body creaking as she does. The arthritis gets worse in the cold weather. I bought her a little space heater for this drafty house a few months ago. She gave it away a month later to a family in need.
She reaches for the instruction booklet, bifocals perched on the end of her nose. “Do you want to tell me why you’ve been moping around lately?”
“I’m looking for D3. It connects to E3. Do you have that piece?” I ask, instead of answering her. I should have known she would have picked up on my mood by now. There’s not much that gets by Ma.
“Got it.” She goes to hand the white shelf to me. But when I reach for it, she pulls it back. “You talk as you drill. That’s the deal.”
I take the piece from her, slipping the screws into place as I explain, “Met a girl. Liked her. She lives far away. The end. Now you know everything.”
“Is that all?” She clucks her tongue.
I finish drilling the first set of screws into the wood, angry at myself for letting her get away. Should never have gone out to cut that damn firewood. “Half my heart is missing, but yeah, that’s all.”
“Then move. Go wherever your girl is. You can do your work from anywhere, but love is precious. It’s worth changing your whole life for.”
Of all the things I’ve considered over the last five weeks, moving wasn’t one of them. It never occurred to me that I could. Courage County has been my home for so long that I guess I’d forgotten I could live outside of it. “But what about…?”
She shakes her head. “Don’t you finish that sentence by asking about me. If my Donny were alive, I’d move heaven and earth to be with that man again. You go find your love.”
I swallow hard, feeling guilty that I’m not more grateful for it. “I already got my miracle.”
She passes another board when I gesture for it. “What are you talking about?”
“In the hospital, when I was young, one of the nurses told me every person gets one miracle in their life.” I pat my leg, knowing that I survived when others in the ward didn’t. “I got mine.”
The look she gives me is a mixture of compassion and sorrow. “Oh, sweet boy. There’s not a limit on miracles. You’re given them every day.”
I frown and ask, “It’s that simple?”
She nods. “Yes, but it’s up to you to recognize a miracle crossed your path and appreciate it.”
For the first time in five weeks, it feels like the sun is shining. Maybe it’s that simple. Maybe I leave behind everything and show up in Nashville. It’s not much of a plan, but at least, I’ll be in the same city as Thea. That’s a start. “I think I’m moving this month. I have a miracle to appreciate.”
She grins. “Good. Finish my bookshelves first.”
The next two hours with Ma pass easily despite the convoluted assembly instructions. When the bookshelves are finally in place and she’s beaming at me, I leave for my cabin.
I feel lighter than I have in months. I’m almost whistling as I head to my truck. But something stops me. There’s a shadow in the grove of trees in the corner of Ma’s front yard. It takes my brain a few seconds to register it’s a person. A grown man.
Oh, hell no. I stomp toward the figure, booming out authoritatively, “Who the fuck are you? And what are you doing here?”
The man in a faded flannel shirt steps forward. He keeps his head ducked, not meeting my eyes. But I recognize him. “Whiskey, where have you been?”
He’s one of hers, Emma May’s foster boys. I didn’t know him very well. I only met him a few times before he shipped out with the military. He was medically discharged a few years ago, and no one has heard from him since. Ma still prays for him every day. She says he’ll come home one day. Looks like that day is today.
“Around,” he finally answers, still not meeting my gaze.
Then it makes sense. The sidewalks that are salted and the gutters that are cleaned. He’s been watching over Ma from a distance. “She’d want to see you. She’d be happy too. I can walk in with you—"
He shakes his head. “Don’t tell her you saw me around. It’d break her heart.”
Then, before I can answer, he’s fading into the grove of trees, disappearing deep into the forest. I’m torn between telling Ma and letting Whiskey go. He must have been through hell on earth and if he’s not ready to face all of his demons yet, then it doesn’t seem like it’s my place to make him.
One week later, the phone call comes in as I’m boxing up more art supplies in my sketching room. I got the apartment rental I applied for. It seems a place came available in Thea’s building, as if someone up there is confirming Ma’s idea that I should move to Nashville. I’ve already paid the deposit.
I’ll be in Music City at the end of the month. I still don’t know what I’ll say to her or how I’ll convince her to be mine. But I have a diamond the size of my fist, and I’m a patient man. Even if I have to sit outside of her apartment for the rest of my life, I’ll convince her to be my wife.
Maybe by this time next year, I’ll be happily married to my dream girl. A fellow can’t ask for more than that.
My doorbell rings as I finish taping the last box. I’ve left out the sketchbooks of Thea I’ll pack last. Yeah, I spent the last six weeks sketching her. She’s my new muse.
The doorbell chimes again, and I grunt. There’s no one coming to see me. There are a few other mountain men that live around the area. Since I saw Whiskey, I quietly asked around. I’m beginning to suspect he’s living in the mountains of Courage County.
Stomping up to my door, I swing it open. I draw in a breath, prepared to tell off whoever had the audacity to interrupt something as important as packing to go see my soulmate.
But my breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh. Standing on my front porch is Thea Madison, my dream woman.