Page 81 of Country Charm

I love my father, to this day.

I love coffee and good books.

I love…

What more is there to love?

Is there a possibility that love is out there for me, and I just don’t know how to feel it? I cared for my boyfriend in college. He was great in every way, but I don’t think I loved him the way I love the girls, my father, or even my favorite book.

Why don’t I understand the extent of this feeling more? Is it because I don’t have a mother?

No, Mary also grew up without a mother and her love for Trent is something beyond what I can imagine. I can tell she would be devastated without him, and I can see how it’s different from her love for Georgie, Lynn, or me.

I can see everyone else around me experiencing it; I can even see Hunter feeling love like that, but I can’t picture it for myself. A tight hold takes over my heart.

I can see Hunter laughing and loving someone the way I see the others doing so. I can see him hauling a little one around; they’re sitting on his shoulders, laughing full belly laughs about something he said.

I can see him late in the evening helping his partner make dinner in the kitchen, creating a warm energy that brings a lightness to the end of the day.

I can see him intently listening to his partner speak while he massages her feet at the end of the couch.

I can see him taking the time that my friends’ husbands take with each of their wives. I hate that I can see it because I know there is going to be someone else on the receiving end.

I don’t know if a part of me wishes that was me, because still at this moment I can’t imagine myself as that woman in his life.

I can’t imagine being the other half of the equation, cooking in the kitchen or hauling around children.

I can’t imagine sitting at a counter listening to Hunter tell me about his troubles on the farm or listening to him tell me the latest scoop on what’s happening in that small ass town.

I can’t imagine sitting on that gorgeous porch swing, reading a book in comfortable silence while he squeezes my feet, or a little one waiting patiently for me at the edge of the library door with a piece of artwork they had just made.

I can’t imagine sitting on that long chaise with a small babe sleeping on my chest while I read out loud to a quiet room, or quietly laughing over coffee on a Sunday morning after sleeping in.

My chest feels heavy, and my stomach acid begins to act up. I imagine I am developing heartburn from all this self-reflection if that’spossible.

Mindlessly I return to work. Typing away, running numbers, gathering research, and putting together reports. My acid reflux calms down. My chest feels lighter. I see an email from Dom, and after a quick scan, I can see that it’s all related to work. If anything, Hunter and their altercation may have caused Dom’s pointless advances to finally stop. Which I appreciate.

Georgie: We have dinner plans so don’t make any.

Me: I would never turn down a free meal.

Another ping from my phone, which I assume is a smart response from her, turns out to be an email.

Application & Referral.

It’s a response from that application I put through after getting the referral from Monica. I read on and find a list of dates for interview opportunities. With their consideration of me for the position, I feel like there begins to be a light at the end of the tunnel.

A new job, a new town, a new start. Georgie will be delighted at our dinner tonight with the news. I know my glum attitude does nothing for her, so she will be happy to have the old me back.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Hunter

Damn that stubborn woman.

Damn her, damn her friends.

Damn it all.

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