Chapter 17
HENRY
Iexpected Maisie to be ready to go home after we went on the ferris wheel but to my surprise she was in no rush. The afternoon was spent going on rides, petting farm animals and playing horribly at all the games.
“Oh my god, I used to beg my mom to let me get my face painted at one of those silly booths.” Maisie points to a little kid that now resembles a tiger which gives me an idea…
“C’mon.” I take her hand and walk over to the booth where there’s an empty chair.
“W-what are you doing?” Maisie asks. Usually I wouldn’t ignore her but I say nothing as I pull out my wallet and gesture for her to take the open seat.
“Alrighty, which face art do you want today, sweetheart?” The older woman hands her a binder full of options to choose from. Maisie flips through the pages, a beaming smile plastered on her face when she looks up at me.
“You’re joking, Henry!”
“I told you we were being children today, so if this is what little Maisie wanted, then this is what little Maisie gets.”
Her smile is still plastered on her face as she flips through the book, stopping on a butterfly. “Let’s do this one,” she hands the book to me, “and what are you getting?”
“Oh, I wasn’t,” I start to say, but see the smile start to dim and decide at that moment that I will never be the reason her smile fades. Maisie Winslow has me wrapped around her finger. “Let’s take a look.” I flip through multiple pages and decide on a puppy. “What do you think about a puppy?”
“I think it’s rather fitting to your golden retriever energy.”
I grab another twenty from my wallet and next thing I know, both Maisie and I are walking away with our faces painted.
“This is so silly, can I take a picture of us?”
“Yeah, yes, sure,” Maisie agrees and I pull out my phone, opening the front facing camera.
I want this one for myself.
Putting my arm around her shoulders I pull her in closer. I smile and take the photo right as she looks at me with stars in her eyes, capturing a moment I’ll never forget.
The drive home was something I had been dreading all day knowing one less item was to be crossed off.
I knew from the second that I first saw Maisie at Ruby’s Diner that she was something special. I feel a gravitational pull whenever she’s near.
After getting our faces painted, we went on a few more rides, ending on the big slide. I’ve never seen someone so happy to just… be. The smile that lit up on her face when I asked her if she wanted to go again was a smile that I’d spend every day trying to recreate.
Maisie Winslow is going to be the death of me, but what a way to go out, it will be.
“What was your favorite part of today?” Maisie looks from the window and her face brightened as it met mine.
“Would it be cheesy to say the whole day?” I laugh as I stare at the road ahead of us.
“Not cheesy, but definitely a cop out.”
“Okay, let me think… I think my favorite part was…” My words ponder off as I tap my fingers to the beat of the song playing through the radio. “It would probably have to be winning you the teddy bear on my first try.”
“First try, huh? I think you mean twentieth.”
“The first nineteen tries are always practice.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She pauses as I quirk a brow in her direction. “Oh, god, get your mind out of the gutter!”
“You wound me, Winslow.” I clutch my chest with my free hand.
“I think the wound will heal itself in no time.” She’s now laughing which causes me to also, this moment has me feeling blissfully happy.
I’m not one to dive head first into friendships or relationships but being around Maisie is easy and comforting and I hope I can keep her in my life—even if just as a friend.
“I still can’t believe we got our faces painted.” She pulls down the visor and inspects the paint on her face through the mirror.
“The butterfly fits you well.”
“You think so?”
“Dolly Parton once said, ‘love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing.’ You, Maisie, are a rare and gentle thing.”
This time it’s she who takes my hand and intertwines her fingers with mine.
“Henry,” she’s looking at me with a faint sadness in her eyes, “I wish today didn’t have to end.”
“Me too, Maisie.” I rub small circles on her hand like I did earlier on the ferris wheel. “Thank you for inviting me to come.”
“Not to take away from the moment, but you technically invited yourself.”
“Technically, Wren invited me.” I squeeze her hand. “You say that like you didn’t just say you wished the day wasn’t over.”
“I don’t think it would have been the same without you.”
“I think it would have been different but I still think you would’ve been brave with or without me and overcame your fear,” I say confidently. “Speaking of, do I get to watch you cross it off?”
I see her tense up at the question but she lets out a calming breath and nods. “Yes, when you drop me off, let me just run inside and grab it.”
We continue driving for another fifteen minutes and somewhere between me asking her if I can watch her cross off her bucket list, and now, she’s somehow fallen asleep.
I use the time I have sitting at the stop light watching her chest rise and fall, her mouth slightly parted. She looks at peace, the whole time not letting go of my hand even in her sleep.
A few minutes later we arrive at her house and as quietly as the truck will let me I put it in park. Hopping out, I make my way to the passenger side where she rests.
Opening her door, I reach over to unbuckle the seatbelt. Before waking her up I grab her bag by her feet and toss it over my shoulder.
While debating on the best way to wake her up, it’s decided for me when I hear her tired voice.
“Hi,” she says softly and it brings a small smile to my face. “Did I,” a yawn breaks her sentence, “fall asleep?”
“Yes, but we’re back home now, so you can go right back to bed.” I push her hair behind her ears, my fingers selfishly gliding across her cheek. “If you give me permission to go inside, I can carry you.”
“I can walk, it’s okay.”
“I know you can, but do you want to?” She looks back at me with a sleepy smile on her face, shaking her head. “Come here.” I hold open my arms and help her out of the car princess style. Her arms immediately wrap around my neck and she nuzzles her head into my collar bone.
I know this version of Maisie is half asleep but I want to take in this moment as much as I can. I feel engulfed by her scent, her soft hair against my skin. If I could just stand here with her for as long as I live, I would in a heartbeat.
Just friends.
I remind myself every time I feel any sort of emotion toward her.
I carry her up the front porch steps. “Hey, sleepy head,” I whisper as to not startle her but she doesn’t move, a soft snore escaping that has me smiling to myself.
Not wanting to wake Maisie, I somehow manage to grab her keys out of the bag I have on my shoulder and unlock the door. I try not to look around her home as she didn’t expect me to be inside but from the small glimpses, I can tell this house is very her.
There are picture frames everywhere on tables, the walls, on shelves. She really likes holding onto memories.
I wonder if she would want to frame a picture of us one day? A memory of this summer, of us.
After a minute or so, I find my way to her bedroom, her yellow floral bed set made perfectly with matching wooden nightstands on either side.
On both nightstands, she has more picture frames—the one closest to me is a photo of her and her mom when she was a kid at the zoo. She’s on her mom’s shoulder, looking and pointing at the tiger in view. That makes my heart warm.
Walking to the side of her bed, I hold her tight with one arm while the other pulls back the comforter. I hate to think about it, but I can’t help wondering if she’s ever had anyone else in here, in her bed.
I feel a pit in my stomach about her being with any guy that isn’t me.
But I remind myself that right now, all that matters is getting Maisie to sleep and making sure she’s safe and sound.
I lean down and lay her on the floral sheets then slip off her shoes, setting them next to her nightstand.
Before I do something stupid like slip under the sheets and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, I pull the comforter over Maisie and tuck her in.
Moving a stray hair out of her butterfly painted face, I do something a friend wouldn’t and lean down to press a kiss to her forehead and then force myself to leave.
I lock her front door and leave her house key under the mat and send her a text before I forget. Getting back in my truck and turning on the ignition, my mind starts to wander.
It wanders to the picture perfect day I had with Maisie.
It wanders to when we first met.
It wanders to when I’ll evidently have to say goodbye.
Small towns have never been for me. I know I’m leaving and she deserves someone who will stay with her here in Ruby Lake, but something in the air has me thinking I could stay here for good.