Chapter Nine #2
She slapped the steering wheel and reminded herself that she was thirty-three years old.
She had been independent since she got her first job at sixteen, and really on her own when she was tossed out of the system at eighteen.
With the help of her art teacher, she rented a small garage apartment and learned how to budget her paycheck at the diner to make it and her tips take care of rent, food, and art supplies.
“We’ll always have the Bridal Veil cabins,” she whispered, “kind of like the famous line in an old movie about always having Paris. I doubt the characters had what Wyatt and I did.”
Molly meowed loudly in the back seat.
“Just two more hours, sweetie, and we’ll be home. You won’t have to get in that carrier again for a long time.”
Molly whined a little, but when Jillian looked in the rearview, the cat had curled up in the carrier and had a paw over her nose. Jillian wished that her life could be so simple. Just snuggle up next to Wyatt and take a long nap. Never have to say “see you later” to him.
“Sweet Jesus!” She gasped. “I have fallen in love with him.”
She digested and analyzed that the rest of the way home, but was that still the case?
Folks said that home is where the heart is.
If that was the case, then home was back in the woods north of Wamba, Texas, in a little cabin.
That’s where she had left not only her heart, but her soul right along with it.
Wyatt unpacked and put away everything from his truck and took Rascal to the park not far from his house.
With all the noise from the kids squealing and yelling, he was afraid he would miss Jillian’s call if the phone was in his pocket when he sat down.
So he laid it on his thigh and kept a close watch on it while Rascal ran and played in the enclosed area for dogs under twenty pounds.
Usually, when he went to the park, he sat on one of the benches and plotted out his next scene.
Not so that afternoon. He fidgeted like a kindergarten kid just before recess time.
The amazing whirlwind of writing and outlining in the cabin had come to an abrupt stop. So fast that it boggled his mind.
“Hello, Wyatt,” a familiar voice said.
He turned to see Henry, an elderly fellow who had a busy rim of gray hair surrounding his well-worn Veteran of Vietnam cap. “I see that a bear didn’t eat you or Rascal while you were away in them woods.”
“Nope. Got home safe and sound a couple of hours ago. How’s Zeus?”
“That boy is going to break me in vet bills, but hey, since I ain’t got kids to leave all of my money to”—he chuckled down deep in his chest—“I might as well spend it on him. He’ll be twenty years old this Christmas and moves about like I do.
Slow as a slug going through molasses.” Another chuckle.
“Why do you keep looking at that phone?”
“I met a woman,” Wyatt admitted.
“I thought something was different about you.” Henry wiggled his thick gray eyebrows. “Was it a good-time woman or a forever woman?”
“It could be the forever kind,” Wyatt answered.
“About damn time. You ain’t no spring chicken anymore.
Life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer to the end, the faster it goes, so if you got a chance to be happy, grab that brass ring and hang on tight.
I passed up that opportunity more than once, and now that I’m looking at eighty in the rearview mirror, I have a lot of regrets. ”
“Yes, sir,” Wyatt said.
Henry cut his eyes around at him. “Is that any way to address a first lieutenant?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Wyatt raised his voice and saluted smartly.
“That’s better.” The million wrinkles in Henry’s round face deepened. “When I see you again, I want you to tell me that you didn’t let this woman slip through your fingers. Anyone who can make you fidget like you are doing has got to be almighty special.”
“She is, but I’ve only known her three weeks,” Wyatt admitted with a sigh.
“The heart wants what it wants, whether it’s three weeks or thirty years.
” Henry’s sigh was even longer and more pronounced than Wyatt’s had been.
“Poor old organ ain’t got no ears or eyes, just a helluva lot of feelings.
That’s why we ought to listen to it.” He stood up and called his Jack Russell dog over to the fence.
“Time for us to go, Zeus. John Wayne don’t wait forever. ”
“You still watching those old westerns?” Wyatt asked.
“Yep, and I will long as they’ll play them on television, or my old DVD player don’t wear plumb out,” Henry said. “If I don’t see you here tomorrow afternoon, I’ll figure that you went wherever you have to go to take care of more important business than talking to an old veteran in the park.”
“What if she thinks I’m smothering her?”
“If she’s as head over heels as you are, it won’t happen,” Henry answered, and snapped the leash on Zeus’s collar. “Maybe she’ll even be sitting right here beside you on this bench the next time I see you.”
“From your lips to the ears of the powers that be.”