Chapter 37 Diem
Diem
The air bit at my cheeks, winter crisp despite the onset of spring, and I was grateful I’d had the forethought to pack warmer clothes.
Trees budded under a pastel blue sky. Fat robins perched on branches, reminding the world that the season was indeed changing.
The scent of pine and earth infiltrated my nose.
The remote cabin was somewhat protected in the lake clearing, surrounded by forest on all sides.
I reveled in the peace and quiet, attuned to the chirping birds and rustle of foraging animals in the distance, the whisper of water sloshing around rocks and licking at rotting logs that bobbed on the shoreline.
The occasional croak of frogs made me smile.
Apart from nature shows on TV, I couldn’t remember ever hearing such a thing before.
It was the first time I’d been away from the city for more than a day.
The first time I’d ventured into the woods.
I couldn’t deny the effect it had on my soul.
The bindings around my wrists were gone.
My lungs expanded further than I ever thought possible.
The air felt lighter and purer without so many other people around breathing it.
The pressure of daily life and responsibility diminished, nothing more than a distant worry on the horizon. One for another day.
To think of the countless times I almost changed my mind about this trip. My nerves had jangled and sang during the entire three-hour drive the previous day as I sat next to Tallus’s stepfather, a virtual stranger, and ventured into the unknown.
It was our first full day in the wilderness.
I’d slept soundly after an awkward dinner of start-and-stop conversation.
Heath, a blessedly patient man, inquired about my hobbies and shared his.
He told stories about Tallus as a teenager that brought a smile to my face, and when the inevitable tension rose from my poor social skills, he landed a few painfully horrible jokes that dissolved it and put us back on neutral ground.
Recognizing my struggles, Heath took over, chatting with abandon like we’d known each other for years.
We’d risen before dawn, cooked a breakfast of bacon and eggs, and Heath brewed bad coffee in an ancient carafe over the camp stove, insisting it would put hair on my chest. I didn’t explain that I had enough already and wasn’t a huge fan of coffee on a good day.
When the dishes were clean, he set out tackleboxes and fishing rods.
My lessons began in earnest. How to tie simple knots, select the appropriate lure, choose bait, and cast a line.
He told me what types of fish we should expect to catch, and how amazing they would taste cooked over an open flame that evening.
We practiced casting, and Heath never got frustrated or yelled when my line flew in the wrong direction or got caught in a tree. He instructed again and again, slapping me on the shoulder, saying, “You’ll get there, son. Keep at ’er.”
I’d never fished a day in my life, and Heath was a patient guide. He didn’t berate me. He didn’t call me stupid or useless or wish he’d taken someone else. He smiled and offered tips until I got it right more times than I got it wrong.
He made me feel proud of my efforts and determined to learn.
Then, we sat in peaceful silence on a rickety dock for hours, and it was never uncomfortable.
On the day I confirmed the trip, I explained to Heath that I could only go if we abandoned the idea of sharing cold beers or alcohol of any kind. I was fragilely sober and afraid of falling back into old habits. It was a hard thing to admit, but he understood.
The cooler was stocked with Dr Pepper and ginger ale, making me think he’d asked Tallus what I liked to drink instead. My dislike for coffee had not been shared, so I suffered with burnt grounds and powdered milk because it was part of the experience.
Hours passed.
The lake was quiet, but my thoughts were loud. They had been for days. Weeks.
Tallus had noticed and asked numerous times if I was okay. The little shit kept digging up old pennies and putting them in my palm, but I couldn’t share my thoughts with him until after the fishing trip.
The fish weren’t biting, much to Heath’s dismay, but it didn’t matter. The serene lake was peaceful and gave me time to work myself up to what I wanted to do.
Tallus had assured me he and Darcy would be fine for a weekend by themselves. They might snap at each other a lot, but as the days passed, they discovered common ground and got along better than before.
The sun glinted off the water, warming my face. I glanced at Heath, but he was lost in his own thoughts and didn’t notice the attention.
I blew out a breath and steeled myself for the serious conversation I’d rehearsed no less than a hundred times. It was now or never. If I didn’t act soon, I would lose my nerve, and if I went home without doing this, I would hate myself eternally, and I was done hating myself.
“Hey, Heath. Can I ask you something?” My mumbled drawl drew his attention.
“Anything you please, son. I’m all ears.”
I rolled the words I’d practiced around my mouth several times, tasting them before letting them pass my lips. “I love Tallus.”
Heath softly chuckled. “Don’t I know it? Hell, I see it in the way you look at him, and that boy is crazy about you, too. Never seen him so happy. I knew when he found the right person, he would settle down. I told Bernice to have patience, and here we are.”
“He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He took a chance on a miserable asshole, and I’ll be honest, some days, I still don’t know why.”
“Because he knew you weren’t an asshole.”
“He’s always seen right through me.”
Heath smiled knowingly, and maybe Tallus wasn’t the only one.
I lightly spun the reel, drawing in my line inch by inch as I’d been taught. “A while ago, I told him that I wasn’t really the marrying kind. He seemed okay with it, but Tallus takes everything in stride.”
Heath bobbed his head. “Yep. Ain’t that the truth. Tallus isn’t fussy. He doesn’t ask for much… I mean, unless it’s to do with fashion or food, then he asks a great deal.”
I snorted. “Don’t I know it. He’ll put us in debt someday.”
“But he’ll look good while doing it.”
Indeed, he would. I thought of the running shoes he’d recently purchased that cost over three hundred and fifty dollars.
The likelihood of them ever leaving the box was slim.
They’re high-quality, he told me. Carbon fiber, constructed to absorb impact and improve performance for long-distance running.
What performance? I’d asked him. Are you joining the gym?
“Is this about his mother?” Heath asked, breaking into my thoughts. “She can be nosy and have a lot of opinions, but I assure you, she only cares that you two are happy. Ignore her. She gets whimsical ideas, but it’s none of her business what you two decide.”
“That’s the thing…” A lump caught in my throat, and I worked desperately to swallow it down.
“We… I… I changed my mind. I do want to marry him. He chose me. He always chooses me, and I want to choose him back. Properly. But… before I ask, I wanted to get your permission. Call me old fashioned, but…”
“Ah, hell. You’re a true gentleman, Diem Krause. Of course you have my permission. I already consider you my son, but I’d be damn proud to make it official. Do you think you might call me Dad someday?”
“I… can try.”
“Excellent.” He held up his travel mug of burnt coffee. “To family.”
“To family.” And if tears prickled my eyes, Heath didn’t mention seeing them.