40. Jillian
FORTY
Jillian
The sun casts shimmering gold flecks over the water’s surface as we settle into our spots along the river. I look at the lazy current and frown.
Elliott tugs at a corner of the blanket. “Don’t worry about him being so close to the water. I won’t take my eyes off him.”
He correctly reads my expression. Even if Jamie is a good swimmer, thanks to years of lessons at the Y, he’s not used to anything other than a pool.
I walk to the bank, scrutinizing the water.
Elliott comes to my side. “It’s very shallow all around for at least ten feet in. I grew up playing in this river. The water is no higher than his knees.”
It’s true. The water is so clear I can see every pebble under the surface for several feet. I drag in a breath and force myself to relax. Jamie is so excited, I don’t want to take away from this experience.
Elliott hands Jamie a small fishing rod. My son watches and listens with intense focus as Elliott explains how to cast the fishing line.
“Here you go, buddy. Hold the rod like this.” Elliott guides Jamie’s hands with gentle precision. “Now you sit and wait. When you feel a tug, reel it in.”
Jamie looks at me, and I smile. A soft breeze ripples through the trees, carrying the scent of wildflowers and damp earth. I lie down on the blanket Elliott set up near the water’s edge and close my eyes, enjoying the early morning sun on my face, the sound of lapping water against the shore, and the birds singing in the trees.
A loud squealing sound startles me. I blink, disorientated. I fell asleep. Jamie! My heart pounding, I sit up to be greeted with a scene that makes me freeze. Happy squeals coming out of Jamie. He’s jumping from one foot to another as he tugs back the fishing pole, the line tense with something pulling it back. He’s forgotten all of Elliott’s instructions in his excitement.
“Reel it in, buddy!” Elliott encourages with a grin. “You’ve got this!”
I grab my phone and stand up, get it all on video for him.
Jamie’s eyes narrow in concentration as he reels in the fish, his little hands gripping the rod tightly. Elliott is beside him but allows Jamie to do all the work, taking full ownership of his catch. The fish surfaces, fighting back the pull of the line, its silvery scales glistening in the sunlight.
Elliott kneels at the water’s edge and grabs the line to keep the fish from thrashing on the dirt. “Great job, Jamie! ”
I walk up to them. “You did it! You got your first fish!”
Jamie looks up at me. He’s so proud of himself.
“Let’s take some pictures to show Grace and Sheila.”
Elliott gently takes the wriggling fish from the hook, careful not to harm it, and shows Jamie how to hold it. I take several pictures of Jamie. “Elliott, get in that picture, too.”
He complies and I take several more.
Elliott gently takes the fish back from Jamie. “We’re going to release it back into the river. We don’t want to keep him out of the water for more than a minute or two.” He instructs Jamie how to carefully lower it back into the water.
Jamie watches the water and I step closer to Elliott.
“I think you created a core memory. He’s so happy.”
He tugs at a lock of my hair. “Two core memories. I’m happy too.”
“Make it three. I think I fell asleep. How long was I out?”
“Not long. Maybe thirty minutes? You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you. And you didn’t really miss anything.” He lowers his voice now. “It was me talking to Jamie and him nodding or shaking his head to answer me. Until he caught that fish and you woke up.”
I hug myself. “It’s three times now he’s made a sound. It’s not words, but it’s so much more than I expected. I’d always thought he’d start speaking later when he’s older.”
“He’s surprising us all.”
“And I have you to thank for it.”
“I didn’t do anything. Maybe the change of pace or scenery helped, but it’s been you and him and the therapists working together all along. The credit goes to all of you. And him the most.”
In this moment, I want to kiss him, tug his face to mine, mold my body to his. Desire grows inside me like embers turning into fire and threatening to consume me. Had we been alone, I would have pulled him into the blanket with me, pulled his body over mine. I ache with the thought of his weight pressing into me, his muscled body moving above mine. His scent, his taste, his hands on my body, caressing my skin, pushing away the loneliness. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way. Awakened. Alive. Desired.
His gaze flits all over my face. He inhales deeply and releases a controlled breath. His chest expands in the fitted, well-worn T-shirt. His hands flex at his sides and he shoves them into the pockets of his cargo shorts.
And I swear he can read every thought crossing my mind right now and is doing everything in his power not to cross that line with Jamie standing a few feet away from us, searching for rocks at the water’s edge.
I clear my throat and take a step back. “Anyone hungry?”
Jamie waves both hands above his head like a shipwreck survivor trying to flag a plane above.
I laugh. “Well, then. Wash your hands and take a seat on the blanket. Let’s see what Grace packed for us.”
Jamie looks at his hands and at me and then around as if asking me, wash his hands where? I point behind him. Plenty of water behind you. His eyes widen and he turns to the river, eager for the new experience. Elliott helps him wash his hands and makes sure he doesn’t fall in by keeping a hand on his shoulder.
I unpack the basket and find a dish towel on top. “Here you go, dry your hands. Let’s see what we have.”
I lay down the containers in the center of the blanket. “ We got cut-up fruit, cheese, finger sandwiches, potato salad, chips, and peanut butter cookies.”
Grace packed a small feast for us. This feels surreal. Sitting here, surrounded by this beautiful place teeming with life with my son and Elliott. The breeze rustles through the trees. Birds land a few yards away, looking for scraps. There’s deer grazing in the tall grasses in the distance. Wildflowers dot the greenery with pops of pink, yellow, and purple. Never in the last two years have I imagined I’d be opening myself to be with someone again. Someone other than CJ. I need to push out of the cocoon of safety I’ve created for Jamie and me and let go of the past. One cannot live in yesterdays. My guilt is the underbelly of fear. Fear of living a full life without my husband. Fear of being happy again. Fear of loving someone who’s not CJ. So much fear, it kept me trapped in a prison of my own making. And I didn’t even know I was a prisoner.