Chapter 34 - Callie
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Callie
THREE WEEKS LATER
The long hand of the vintage singing bird clock hanging above our bed hits the top of the hour, and an eastern meadowlark begins chirping. I listen, amused, as the little bird finishes its song.
“Jensen.” I gently shake his shoulder. “Did you hear it?” I shake him again. “Did you?”
“Uh huh,” he mumbles, not bothering to crack open an eyelid. Instead, he uses the arm that’s already slung over my torso to pull me closer, tucking me into his chest.
“The yellow warbler is next,” I tell him, even though I know he’s not nearly as excited about the clock as I am.
When Frank offered to let us borrow his RV while we figured out our next steps, he hadn’t told us it was basically a time capsule.
From the retro fabric of the curtains to the avocado green color scheme, the entire RV screams 1978, and I am absolutely obsessed with it.
The bird clock is my favorite little oddity, and it fills me with absolute delight every time it sings.
I sigh contentedly and run my fingers along Jensen’s forearm, tracing the colorful lines of his tattoos.
Lying next to him in this bed feels like the most natural thing in the world.
It doesn’t matter that the mattress we’re sleeping on is full of lumps and barely big enough for the two of us, or that Jensen has to hunch over just to get his head wet in the small shower.
It doesn’t bother me that the stove only works sporadically, the roof leaks in spots, and two of the windows are sealed shut.
The man next to me is my home, and I’d live anywhere just to be with him.
I do miss the farmhouse and the airstream, but you don’t survive what we have and still think of material things the same way.
We lost a lot in the twister, including half the town, but houses and things are replaceable.
It’s the moments that matter. All the little pieces of our lives—the smell of the first flowers in springtime, a kiss beneath the autumn moon, laughing til your stomach hurts with your dearest friend, a warm, freshly-baked apple pie—those are things that matter.
It’s the experiences, the memories, the relationships.
I survived an F-3 tornado, and I’m determined to live every day for moments like this one.
Even if I never do anything else in this life, getting to spend every morning listening to a silly bird clock with the man I love is more than enough.
Something wet presses against my cheek, and I turn to find a pair of large brown eyes staring at me. “Good morning,” I coo, scratching Peaches under her chin. “Are you ready for breakfast?” I sign “eat” and she leaps up, barking and wagging her tail.
Ever since the tornado, Peaches has been my little Velcro dog.
She’s never far from my side—a fact that Jensen jokingly bemoans.
He keeps claiming that I stole his dog, but I see the way his eyes crinkle when Peaches and I are snuggled up together.
Having children of my own has never been something I felt super passionate about, so the fact that Jensen and I may never have any doesn’t bother me.
I’m more than happy to play dog mom to Peaches, and I feel like our little family is complete.
It’s still hard for Jensen to talk about what happened with Anna, but I remind him every day that he’s more than enough for me, and this life we’re building is perfect just as it is.
Sitting up carefully, I ease myself off the bed.
I hate how slow I’m moving, but the vertigo from my TBI is still pretty bad, and it’s worse first thing in the morning.
The doctors assure me it will fade with time, but for now, I have to take it easy.
Bright lights can be tricky, and the headaches can be intense, but I’m trying not to get frustrated.
I’m lucky to be alive, and I owe my body time to heal.
I pour kibble into Peaches’ bowl and place it down in front of her.
The kitchenette area is tiny, and I have to step over the dog to start the coffee pot in the corner.
I pull a small frying pan out of the cupboard and turn the nob on the stove.
The burner clicks, but doesn’t ignite. I try again.
Still nothing. So much for making breakfast.
When I turn back towards the bed, Jensen’s eyes are open, and he’s watching me with an expression that makes my skin flush.
“Stove’s out again,” I say. “I was going to make omelets.” I poke my lower lip out in a pout.
He laughs. “Let me try.”
Flinging the covers off, he gets out of bed. He’s shirtless in a pair of shorts that sits low on his hips, and sweet magnolias, the sight of him doesn’t exactly help with the vertigo. I grip the counter for support and suppress a grin.
He fiddles with the burner for a few minutes before shrugging. “Stove’s out again.”
“Like I said.” I laugh, giving his shoulder a shove.
Jensen captures my hand in his and yanks me close, wrapping his arms around me. I sink into his embrace.
“Morning, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his mouth skimming the shell of my ear.
A warm shiver skips down my spine. “Morning.”
Breath hitches in my throat as his lips travel down my neck, and when his teeth catch on one of my collarbones, heat flares through me.
My head falls back and my eyes flutter closed as Jensen kisses my bare shoulders.
One hand toys with the straps of my tank top, while the other stays anchored at my hip, holding me in place.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, taking his time as he moves back up my neck, pressing his lips to my skin before brushing his lips against mine. These sweet, gentle touches are enough to have me squirming in his arms, and I’m about to pounce when there’s a loud knock at the door.
I groan, disappointment making my nose scrunch.
Jensen laughs at my expression and gives me a kiss that’s over entirely too fast. “Later,” he promises with a wink.
I’m half tempted to ignore whoever is at the door and turn “later” into “now,” but a familiar voice calls out.
“Come on out of there, you lovebirds. I ain’t got all day!”
I snort out a laugh. “Be right there, Ms. Dorothy.”
We dress quickly, stepping out into the golden sunshine. It’s early, but the air is already thick with humidity. Ms. Dorothy waits for us, leaning against the side of a new-to-her Oldsmobile. She’s wearing a bright pink dress with flamingos and a pair of matching bedazzled sunglasses.
“Look at you.” I beam, reaching to pull her in for a hug. “You’re going to put all those native Floridians to shame. ”
Ms. Dorothy chuckles, squeezing me tightly. “Well, I figured, when in Rome.” She pulls back, tapping me gently on the cheek. “I’m gonna miss you, neighbor.”
I try not to cry as she gives me another hug. After both of our RVs were destroyed in the tornado, Dorothy decided to move in with her sister in Florida. She’d stayed long enough to get her affairs in order, but she was heading out today—something I could barely think about without tearing up.
She hugs Jensen next, sniffling. “You take care of our girl now, ya hear?”
“I will,” he promises. “Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay? I can work on getting another RV ready. Just say the word.”
“Oh no, I think it’s time to move on. Besides, I’ve decided I’m officially too old for tornadoes. I intend to spend the rest of my days on a beach with a good book and a drink in my hand. No more weather worries for me.”
“Uh . . . ” Jensen quirks a brow. “You know they got hurricanes there, right?”
Ms. Dorothy flashes a wide grin. “Sure, I do, honey. Whatcha think I’m gonna be drinking on that beach?”
We all share a laugh and another round of hugs. “Don’t you worry about ole Ms. Dorothy. I’ll be just fine.” She reaches into her car and pulls out several Tupperware containers. “I made y’all some lemon squares and banana nut bread. It’s a thank you for all you’ve done for me.”
A lump rises in my throat as I take the baked goods. “We should be thanking you, Ms. Dorothy. If it weren’t for your advice, I’m not sure we’d be standing here.”
“Nah, a love like what you’ve got always finds a way.” She re-adjusts her sunglasses. “Well, I best be off. You two take care now.”
Jensen wraps an arm around my shoulders, and we wave until Ms. Dorothy’s car is out of sight.
I swipe at my nose and let out a breath. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
Jensen points to the construction site behind the RV. We’ve already started clearing out the wreckage of the farmhouse, but it’s a slow process.
“I’ve got a couple of guys coming to help clear the big stuff, but that’s not til later. Oh, and your cousin is stopping by to take some photos for me. Insurance wants more documentation.”
“Okay, how can I help?”
“You can go back inside and rest for a while.” He gives me a pointed look. “Doctor’s orders.”
“I feel fine,” I grumble, knowing this is not a battle I can win. “And I want to help.”
“I know you do, but your brain needs time to heal. The more you rest, the faster that will happen.”
I hate that he’s right.
“What about your knee?” I challenge. If I have to take it easy, I’m determined that he’s going to take it easy with me.
“Still hurts,” Jensens confirms, “but my knee is hardly as precious or as important as this.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Go rest, Callie.”
I start towards the RV, but Jensen grabs my arm and whirls me around. “I love you,” he says, cupping my cheeks.
Just like that, I feel a little better. “I love you, too.”
The grin he gives me makes my heart pound, and I practically skip back to the RV. I didn’t want to admit it, but the dull headache I always seem to have is getting a little stronger, so rest is probably wise. I lay down, snuggling Jensen’s pillow and letting his scent lull me to sleep.
Mabel wakes me up a while later by plopping down on the bed, her camera bag crossed over her chest. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty! Your favorite person is here!”
I wipe the sleep from my eyes and grin. “Jensen?”
Mabel purses her lips and gives me a playful slug in the shoulder. “You wound me with your words.”
Laughing, I sit up and tuck my hair behind my ears. “How are things? I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Sorry, I guess I’ve just been a little busy.” There’s a strange look on Mabel’s face, and she won’t look me in the eye. Whatever’s been keeping her “busy” is not something she wants me to know about. I gasp as my Cousin Radar goes off.
“Mabel! You’re seeing Sullivan. ”
Her eyes go wide. “What? No. I’m not seeing him. He’s just here. I can’t control where he goes, you know, and he’s doing his work thing. Trust me, I don’t want to see his stupid handsome face any more than I have to.”
“Mmmhmm.” I am not buying it. “And where exactly is he staying while he’s in town?”
The answer is clear enough from the pink splotches that color Mabel’s cheeks, and I burst out laughing.
Mabel rolls her eyes. “I’m not here to talk about Sully. I’ve got a job to do.” She opens her bag and rifles around.
“That’s right. Jensen said you were coming over to take pictures for the insurance.”
She pulls a strip of cloth from the bag. It’s the same bandana she used on me for the blind date photoshoot. “Not for insurance, Callie.” Her expression has changed, and there’s a softness in her eyes that I don’t understand.
“What?”
“Just trust me.” With gentle hands, she ties the bandana around my eyes and helps me up, leading me through the RV, out the door, and into her car.
The drive isn’t very long and when we park, I have absolutely no idea where we are.
Mabel guides me forward, her grip steady until she suddenly stops—and I collide with something solid. Not something. Someone.
Jensen’s hands are there to steady me, pulling me close .
“What’s going on?” I ask, still not understanding.
He unties the blindfold, and I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the light.
We’re standing in the exact same spot where we met during the first photoshoot, under the shade of a tall oak tree.
A soft, denim blue blanket has been laid out atop the small hill that overlooks the river, glinting in the sunshine.
There’s a wicker picnic basket on the blanket next to a bouquet of wildflowers, and framed photos of me and Jensen and from Mabel’s photoshoots are placed between scattered rose petals.
A Bluetooth speaker begins to play a soft, sweet song, and in the center of it all, Jensen stands with Peaches at his side.
She’s wearing a t-shirt that says Mom, will you marry my dad?
Tears well up in my eyes as Jensen reaches for my hands.
“Callie Dawson,” he begins, his voice like a caress.
“I’m in love with you, and I have been from the moment I laid eyes on you in this very spot.
I never thought I would find love like this—never thought it was even possible to love someone as much as I love you.
I never thought anyone could love someone like me. Til now. Til you .”
Jensen’s voice cracks on the last word, and I squeeze his hands, tears rolling down my cheeks.
“I was a broken man who didn’t think he deserved anything more than pain and regret, but you brought my shattered heart back to life and filled it with such love, I can barely contain it.
There’s nothing I want more in this world than you, and I promise I will spend forever showing you how much I cherish you.
It would be the greatest honor of my life if you would be my wife. ”
He bends carefully, moving slowly due to his injury, and gets down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”
“Of course, I will,” I say, dropping to my knees in front of him.
Jensen wraps his arms around me, his lips crashing against mine. This kiss, this soul-searing kiss, brands itself on my heart. I love you, I love you, I love you.
When we pull apart, I spot Mabel crying her eyes out as she moves around us, snapping pictures with her camera. It hits me then, how this all started because of her, because of a photoshoot. I owe her a lifetime of Ben & Jerry’s.
Jensen signs something to Peaches, who plops down in front of me. A sparkling solitaire glitters from her collar, and I have to swallow down more tears as Jensen carefully removes it and slides it onto my hand.
Falling or flying.
Falling or flying.
Falling or flying.
“Flying,” I whisper against his lips. “Definitely flying.”