Page 67 of Smoky Mountain Dreams
“Your songs are beautiful.”
“Andyouwant in my pants.”
Jesse shook his head. “You know that’s not why I like them.”
Christopher nodded, his eyes back on the table now. “I know.It’s been a good night. Let’s just…have another good night on another day?” Helooked up like he wasn’t sure Jesse wanted that too.
“When can I see you?”
“Text me.”
Jesse watched him a few seconds longer and headed up to dealwith his daughter. He took deep breaths, determined to stay calm, but equallydetermined to also make himself clear: her behavior was unacceptable and therewould be consequences.
When Christopher finished putting everything right inthe kitchen, he sat at the table. He was rusty, but he still remembered what todo. Drifting through the floorboards and ceiling was Brigid’s voice, high-pitched,pleading, and Jesse’s heavier tones, authoritative and uncompromising. They’dbeen talking for a while, and Christopher hoped Jesse was making progress.Because if he didn’t…
Jesse had to put his kids first, and Christopher wouldn’twant it any other way. No question. He was okay with being second choice, butstill, his heart damn near broke at the thought of not seeing Jesse anymore.How had he gotten so attached so quickly? What if…no.Therewas no point in going down that road. He could hear Gran singing softly in hismind as he bent his head to his task.
Que sera, sera…
Six origami cranes later, Christopher wrote a note onanother square sheet of paper from a stack he’d found on the counter.
Dear Brigid,
I’m sorry six of your cranes got messedup. I know they’re very important to you. So I made these with the intentionthat they go toward whatever it is you’re wishing for. I hope we can be friendsone day. And if we can’t, that’s okay too. I’ll always wish for all of yourdreams to come true.
Sincerely,
Christopher
Chapter Fourteen
CADESCOVE, THE FLAT VALLEYbetween the two ridgelines including ThunderheadMountain and Gregory Bald, was nearly devoid of tourists, though the weatherwasn’t terribly bad. It was late in the day and the sky was typicallyautumnal—overcast with the sun peeking out occasionally— not the brilliant blueof summer, but Jesse thought it was beautiful.
The cove stretched for five miles and was completely hemmedin by mountains. The fields and creeks served as a refuge for deer, bear, andwild turkeys. The autumn leaves on the mountains were well past their prime buta remarkable palette of rich autumn color continued in the lowest elevationsand in the hidden parts of the cove, providing interest alongside theevergreens.
As always, the mountains held a mysterious beauty, and Jesseand Christopher were quiet as they drove around the cove’s loop. Marcy hadalways loved Cades Cove, and when Jesse had seen her earlier that day, leavingthe usual flowers and checking in on her care, he’d told her about his plans. “Doyou think it’s too much?” he’d asked. And then, contradicting himself, “It’sbeen a month now. Is an evening picnic romantic enough?”
Of course she’d met his commentary with flat eyes and nochange of expression. Now Jesse pulled the car into a small gravel parking areanear the place he’d taken Hope on their ill-fated date. He sincerely hoped thisdate would fare better.
Christopher unbuckled his seat belt, looked out at themountains, and whistled low. “That’s a gorgeous view right there, don’t youthink?”
“It’s why I chose it.”
“You have excellent taste, good sir.” Christopher grinnedand opened the passenger door, climbing out. He stretched, lifting his handsway above his head, and from where Jesse still sat in the car, he watchedChristopher’s shirt ride up, exposing the line of dark blond hair under hisnavel that disappeared beneath his pants.
Gorgeous view? Hell yeah.
Christopher ducked down. “Coming?”
Jesse popped the trunk of his blue Mercedes. He’d packed apicnic and brought a blanket to sit on—an old quilt Nova had made during herhippie quilting phase. As far as Jesse could tell, every hippie was required togo through a quilting phase and a knitting phase. Nova had been through bothtwice now. He suspected glass blowing might be next. Or maybe canning.
“I was happy when you wanted to get together today,”Christopher said as they spread their blanket on the mountain side of a massiveoak tree so that other cars passing on the loop couldn’t see them. “After theother night with Brigid, especially.”
They both kept their jackets on, the temperature too coldeven in the late sunshine. Christopher’s cheeks had pinked up. Jesse didn’tknow if it was entirely from the cold or if some of it was embarrassment atbringing up Brigid’s behavior.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. HowisBrigid? Didyour talk with her go okay?”
