Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
COLBY
The sunbeams pour into the skylight and even though this is normally the time I’d tug on my sleeping mask and go back to bed for a few hours, I don’t.
Oddly, last night after I sent the recordings to Josie, and then recorded and uploaded my final episode, I thought I’d toss and turn all night, waiting to see a response.
But something totally unexpected happened.
I fell asleep immediately.
I roll over in the bed and check my phone to see if Josie has replied, and my heart sinks that she didn’t.
It’s okay, though. Of course, I’m heartbroken and had grand visions of her driving here in the middle of night to crawl into bed with me and profess her love, but I also know that isn’t reality.
I’m not even sure if she saw the email, much less listened to all the recordings or the show.
And, to be true to my word, I won’t contact her again and find out.
She drew her boundary line, and I need to accept it, even though my heart is shattered.
“Come on, girl. Let’s go potty.” I slide out of the bed, throw on a sweatshirt over my pajamas, and stuff my feet into sandals.
Oh, the joy of sandals. Well, technically Crocs, because they’re more practical in this terrain, but sock-less shoes after a long winter is pretty damn dreamy.
With Memorial Day weekend right around the corner, the weather is absolutely glorious.
That perfect mix of warmth with no humidity, verging on shorts and T-shirt weather, is my favorite.
The hot tub is bubbling over, and today, after breakfast, I’m going in.
After everything that happened with Josie, I haven’t stepped in the tub.
Even though I went all these years tubbing solo, once I had her in it, it didn’t feel the same to go back to it alone.
But today is a new day. Today, I will sit in the tub, and breathe in the nature, and think about what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.
Because I did it. I told the world who I was.
I came clean, and I feel so incredibly free.
I thought that I would be overcome with anxiety.
That I’d fret about my livelihood, that I’d have to take on a job in finance again, that maybe I’d even have to sell my beloved home and move elsewhere.
I thought that I’d be worried about the backlash and what people would say, and hateful comments about being a fraud.
But even though my chest aches for Josie, I feel nothing but freedom.
What may have originally started out as a grand gesture, quickly changed.
This was not about me trying to win Josie back.
This was me officially shedding the very last piece of the protective shield I’ve armored myself with since Amelia died.
I dig my foot into a large stone stuck into the ground, and when it releases from the marsh, I rub off the dirt with my palm and hold it to the light to try and determine what type of rock it is.
It’s beautiful, a color that I’m not sure I’ve seen before out here.
Maybe this will be my new thing—rock collecting.
I love agate hunting, and I live in Minnesota, dammit.
The geology is spectacular. Time for me to discover more. About this area, about me.
Because yes, I am a widow. But you know what?
I am so much more. Being a widow can no longer be my sole identity.
I am also a dog mom, and a podcast host, and a damn good cook.
I’m a daughter and a sister who desperately needs to reconnect with her family.
I am a lover of books and crocheting and watching really terrible reality TV.
I am an unashamed lover of cupcakes, and hater of edamame (no matter how much soy sauce or butter I add).
I’m a lover of living in the woods, and chopping wood, of nature, and of naps.
I am more than just a person with a dead wife.
I am a survivor.
The air is so rejuvenating. Is there any other better time in Northern Minnesota than late May?
The summer on the cusp of breaking through.
The winter already gone and forgotten. The smell of lilac trees and pine, the rush of the rivers, the creeks at their peak from all the snow runoff.
My mood has lifted, but there’s a lingering pinch in my heart.
I have no idea what Josie will say, if anything.
Kona and I are almost halfway home from our afternoon walk when she starts barking wildly.
My chest freezes for a moment, and I pat my pocket to confirm the bear spray is ready and loaded.
When I look around, though, there’s no bear.
But Kona is a hell of a lot more intuitive than I am, and my hair stands on edge.
“It’s okay, girl,” I say, patting her on the side.
We walk a little more, and Kona starts tugging me upwards, with her fat, floppy tail wagging.
My heart leaps. Maybe? Could it be? I scan the woods, turn in a full three-sixty, squint and see nothing.
Oh… there. A bunny hops out from his hiding place and scurries across the path.
My heart drops. Cute of course, but by some miracle (delusion, perhaps?) I thought Josie would be here.
She’s probably working today, back from her lunch break, logging in a pet chicken with a raspy cough.
Or she’s squatting down in her favorite pink cherry scrubs, rubbing an animal on the back while calming the owner and assuring them their loved one is in good hands.
The earth crunches below my hiking books as I walk a few more steps, up the hill, and I stop.
Kona is barking and wagging her tail, and my heart thuds against my chest. Am I dreaming?
Is this the product of me feeling this incredible relief that my mind is manifesting all of my hopes and dreams, and seeing what else I can handle?
Because at the top of the hill stands Josie. My heart leaps into my chest, drums against the column of my neck, and I freeze. Kona absolutely cannot hold back her excitement, and before she tears my arm off, I release the leash. With her tongue flapping, and tail wagging, she runs.
And so do I.
I don’t take my eyes off her. I want to make sure I’m not dreaming, make sure this isn’t a mirage, elicited by the golden sun cutting through the dense forest and the feelings of hopefulness that have overtaken me.
As the earth crunches beneath my boots and Josie sharpens into focus, she drops her gaze from mine and squats next to Kona, absorbing all of Kona’s doggie kisses and scratching behind her ears.
The hope running through my heart is electric and warm, but also tight.
I don’t know what Josie’s going to say. Is this a goodbye forever, or let’s stick with being friends, or let’s dive in together and shoot for something wonderful?
Whatever it is, I’m braced and ready for it.
By the time I reach the top of the hill, I’m sort of regretting running because all I can mutter out is a heavy-breathed, “Hey.”
Josie rises from squatting, with a soft grin, and pushes back a swipe of her soft pink-blond hair. “Hey,” she says, digging the tip of her toe into the mossy ground.
It’s only been two weeks, almost a quarter of the total time that I’ve known her, but I swear I didn’t remember how beautiful she was.
I don’t have any pictures of her, and I thought I distorted the beauty in my mind.
That somehow the little gap in her front teeth was not as endearing, her pale cheekbones blushed with pink wasn’t quite as sweet, that her Bambi-brown eyes didn’t catch the light the way that they did.
But I was wrong. She’s even more beautiful.
“Do you want to sit down?” I ask, pointing to the patio set. When she nods, I follow her to the covered area, sink into the cushioned chairs, and stuff my shaky hands underneath my legs while I wait for her to speak.
Her gaze sweeps mine and she nibbles at the corner of her lip. “I listened to the journal, and the podcast.”
My heart is still kicking against my chest from the run up the hill, but now it’s leaped and stuck in my throat.
The moment of truth has arrived. My stomach is turning so much that I feel nearly sick.
Sending my journal was the most vulnerable thing I’ve ever done.
It’s my diary, my innermost thoughts, it’s me. All of me.
“I want you to know that I didn’t do that for some manipulation tactic.
I just… I knew that you deserved all of the truth, and this was the way to give it to you.
” My face is beating so red that it feels like a blood vessel will explode.
“Please know that I will completely respect your decision. If you want to never talk to me again, just say so. Of course I will be heartbroken, more than you probably know, but it’s okay.
Or if you want to be friends, even better.
I would love to be your friend. You can come here whenever you want, you can visit Kona, you can take your walks and chop wood and we can snuggle—or not—while watching shows.
Really, you tell me how I can fit into your world, and I’ll do it. ”
Josie hesitates for so long after I say this that I score all of my words to make sure I made sense. She brushes off debris from the table and watches it flutter to the ground, then takes a deep inhale. “What if I don’t want to be friends?”
It’s fair. It’s so unbelievably fair from what I did to her.
My heart drops into my stomach, and dammit, my eyes are turning shiny from tears.
I promised myself if she came here or wanted to talk, I wouldn’t cry in front of her.
I bat them back and give her a sad nod. “It’s okay.
I understand,” I say, swallowing back the choked sob.
“Then I’ll say, thank you for the time you’ve shared with me, and I’ll remember you forever.
You’ve opened something up in me that I thought was dead, and from here on, for the rest of my life, I will be forever grateful. ”
Her chin trembles, and that flush in her cheeks spreads. “What if I want to be more than friends?”
My heart leaps. Does she mean that? I don’t want to get my hopes up, don’t want to leap out of the chair and scare the hell out of her, but my legs are buzzing with energy, my arms heavy with the need to pull her into them. I catch her gaze, reading her, the hope and fear, the hesitation.
Josie stares at her hands for a long while before speaking.
“You have no idea how much it meant that you spoke to Amelia’s spirit about me.
For so long, I’ve felt sort of invisible, and never thought I’d impact anyone enough to do something like that.
” She reaches down to rub Kona’s ears, clearly adopting the same nervous coping mechanism I’ve had all these years.
“It still really hurts that you withheld your identity, and the show, and honestly, we are going to have to spend a lot of time rebuilding that trust. But I’m game to do it… if you want to.”
If I want to? Right now, I would do just about anything to keep Josie in my life.
Rebuilding trust, starting at the very beginning, starting over, whatever it takes, I am all in.
“Of course I want to.” My heart feels so open and raw, but now is the time to lay it all out.
“I want you in my life. Everything feels lighter, more acute, sharper. You bring that joy, that sparkle, that I’ve been missing.
I will spend whatever time it takes regaining that trust.”
Josie drops her hand from Kona, and brings it back to her lap, with a soft smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“I don’t want you to think this is going to be an unfair playing field or anything.
I still have things to work out on my own, and I absolutely let my inherent trust issues affect me.
We’re both still trying to find our way and navigating what this sort of post-self-discovery world looks like for us.
But there is no one else I’d rather be on this ride with than you. ”
And yep, my heart has officially leaped from my stomach and back into my chest. Her smile, the sincerity in her eyes, the way she’s looking at me, I want to take it all in. “Really?”
Tears form behind her lashes, and she nods.
“I love this.” She waves her hand to the forest, to Kona, to me.
“I love what this is and what it all represents. And I love the new me. Well, maybe it’s not the new me, but it’s just me.
I love who I’ve transitioned into, who I’m still learning to become, that I’m stronger than I ever thought.
” She swallows and the tears slide down her cheek. “And… I love you.”
The words are so soft, lobbed so tenderly but carrying so much healing weight that it feels like she’s hugging me.
I push away from the chair and kneel in front of her, holding her in my arms as she embraces me back.
I’m lifting and breaking and healing, with her touch, with her words, and my body trembles.
“You do?” I whisper, needing to hear it again, needing the confirmation that I’m not alone on this, needing to know that even though this is scary, for me, for her, that I trust we will ride along together.
She pulls back and cups my cheeks in her hands. “I do. I really love you.” Her dark eyes travel mine. “I know we’re going to have ups and downs, and not everything will be smooth, but you are the only person I want to do this with. We are worth figuring this all out, together.”
Josie leans in, presses her soft mouth against mine, and I melt into her. The way her body feels against me, the way our hearts are pounding against each other, the way that she is stitching me back together one minute at a time, fills my soul. “I love you, too,” I say and then kiss her again.
After Amelia died, I was lost. In who I was, in what I wanted to be.
And I never thought I would find love again.
My body fills with the type of gratitude that I’ve only read about in books, the type of warmth I’ve only seen in movies.
I squeeze her into me, bury my head into her shoulders, and sigh.
“How about you get trapped here for the next, I don’t know… lifetime.”
A soft giggle, the most beautiful sound in the world, escapes her lips. When Kona makes a huff, clearly annoyed that she is not getting any attention, we both grin and break our embrace. She lays one hand on Kona’s fur, one hand on mine, and smiles.
“That sounds… heavenly.”