and Meadow, and showered for nearly twenty minutes—shaving, exfoliating, conditioning.
Lemon water.
Stared out the front window.
Read a few chapters of my book—near the front window.
Quilted by the front window.
Lunch on the front porch.
And back to more quilting.
Amie: Is he there yet?
Me: No. (crying emoji)
Amie: Lol. He’ll be there.
Just as I typed the crying emoji four more times, he pulled into the driveway. Pursing my lips, I blew out quick shallow breaths followed by several deep ones as I angled myself away from the window so I could see him, but he couldn’t see me.
“Jesus …” My lips parted as he shrugged off his shirt, tucked it into the back of his worn jeans like a rag, and lifted his lawnmower out of the truck bed.
Over the next hour, I drooled. He mowed, trimmed, and edged my yard. After he loaded everything into the back of his truck, I adjusted my strapless sun dress, rubbed my glossed lips together, and stood idle at the door, waiting for him to knock or just barge in like he’d done so many times before.
“Breathe, Elsie,” I whispered, closing my eyes.
They sprang to attention, wide and panicked the second I heard the rumble of his truck starting. I threw open the door as he backed out onto the street and put it in drive.
“Wait!” I ran down the driveway in my bare feet, toenails freshly painted red, as he headed down the street. “Kael!” I stopped in the middle of the street, releasing my flailing arms to my sides when I realized he didn’t see me.
Then his brake lights illuminated. He pulled off to the side of the road.
My phone vibrated in my right hand.
Kael: Going to shower.
Me: Kiss me.
Kael: I’m sweaty.
Me: Kiss me.
Kael: Later.
Me: Kiss me.
Kael: Soon.
Me: I’m living in the now. KISS ME!
Kael hopped out—shirt covering his tan torso again. He ran his arm across his sweaty forehead while walking a straight line down the middle of the street toward me. “Your dress is white.”
“Kiss me.”
“People could be watching,” he continued making his way back to me.
Twenty feet.
Fifteen feet.
“Kiss me.”
Ten feet.
“You’re such a horny duck.” He smirked.
Five feet.
“Kiss—”
He kissed me.
My face in his hands.
My feet lifted onto my toes.
My heart in the jar on the top shelf—crashing to the ground.
Epilogue
After two months of sex—so much sex—holding hands in the town square, flirting over lunch at Spoons, and ignoring the judgmental glances from some of Epperly’s residents, it was time for me to leave for Texas to get Bella settled into her dorm.
I took my house off the market since it wasn’t getting any lookers anyway. Kael and I agreed there was no reason to live together, even if we shared the same bed most of the time … even if there was an extra toothbrush at his place and mine. Autonomy mattered to us. Space mattered. It not only mattered; it made our time together mean more.
After my boys moved, they’d come home to visit. And there was this shift. They weren’t home to hole-up in their rooms or hide in the basement; they were home to visit me. We shared more meaningful conversations. Our time together was intentional, not just a convenience of shared space.
With Kael, we made the choice every day to be alone or be together. Our time together was always intentional, always meaningful.
“You should come with me to Peru next month,” I said while packing my bag for Texas.
Kael rubbed Meadow’s belly from their sprawled out positions on my bed. “Have you ever taken a trip all by yourself?”
“No. I got pregnant in college and raised four kids. I don’t feel like I’ve been going to the bathroom by myself for that long. And honestly … Meadow occasionally follows me in there to watch me do my business. I think she feels it’s only fair.”
He chuckled. “Then you definitely need to take a trip by yourself. It’s an incredible experience. It’s healing. It’s a confidence booster. It’s the opportunity to let something be only about you. You’ll learn to trust yourself more—to rely on yourself. It will edge you out of your comfort zone. And you’ll get to know yourself in a way you’ve probably never had the chance to do.
“I took my first solo trip out of the country when I was twenty-four. It changed me. I matured. I found a deeper meaning to my life and learned to create my own happiness. It forced me to make new friends and redefine the meaning of family … and in