Page 15 of The River in Spring
“And now that I think about it, he had the same kind of reaction you had when he fished. Like he almost apologized to the fish. Kind of a Zen thing.”
“That’s him! Oh! He used to fish there all the time before you owned the land but he had a heart attack and didn’t make it there again for years. That story makes me so happy,” I say, a tear suddenly welling and running down my face. “To think you saw him.”
We braid fingers. He doesn’t say ‘don’t cry’ or get embarrassed that his date is weeping in the fancy restaurant. He stays silent in my grief, standing by me.
“Your sympathy is touching,” I say. “You seem to get it.”
“It’s empathy. My sister Kristen died a few years ago.”
“Oh, Nobel. I’m so sorry. That must have been crushing for your family. I saw her picture on your wall.”
With a sigh, Nobel lets me inside.
“I don’t think I can ever get over what happened. People say you get through it, but I think you end up in a new place. Missing her is just part of life now.”
“Same here with my grandparents.”
“Do you ever talk to them? I mean out loud?”
I chuckle. “All the time. And I see nothing odd about it.”
“We find comfort where we can.”
He kisses my hand and that one gesture soothes me to my core. Then I get a brainstorm.
“I have a favor to ask of you. But I don’t want you to say yes because I’m teary, or because you want to get into my pants.”
A contained smile appears on his face. “I won’t, and I do. But we can talk about that another time. Ask away.”
That gets him a silent brownie point.
“I still have the remains of my grandparents. I’ve been waiting to find the right place that would mean something. A place in nature because they were so at one with the land. What are my chances of sprinkling their ashes on the shore of the fishing hole?”
“I have no problem with that. None whatsoever. In fact, I practically owe it to you.”
“Thank you, Nobel,” I say, squeezing his hand. “Oh, that’s really kind of you.”
“Don’t be so surprised. I’m more than just a man with questionable self-control.”
His hand picks up one of my curls and gently winds it around his finger. He plays with it for just a moment before tucking it behind my ear. His fingers sweeping the edge. Who knew the curve of my ear could be so fucking erotic? Never has been before. I felt it down to my wiggling toes.
An image of kissing him pops in my mind. We are naked in his bed. Clear as day. Not sure if that’s a vision or just a wish, because his shlong was awesome looking. I’m going with the second one because if it turns out he has a little pickle that would blow confidence in my gift.
I’m at a crossroads here. If it was a vision, I want to throw every reason not to sleep with him out the window. Why wait? It’s already ordained. Why shouldn’t I be the aggressor? But it’s important to remember he may not be there yet. Just because I saw it, doesn’t mean he has.
My Devil self is making her case on one shoulder, while my wisest Angel across the way is simply filing her nails listening to the argument. Can’t hurt to consider all options. Can it? That fucking white winged know-it-all. Every time she’s silent I know I’m going to do therightthing. The safe thing. The thing that will protect me in some way. Damn brain.
“Where’d you go?” Nobel asks.
My daydream dissolves instantly. I’m a little embarrassed.
“Sorry. I was just ... You might catch me doing it again.” I chuckle. “You don’t know yet, but I have this sort of sixth sense. Once in awhile I get a fleeting picture in my mind, or a certain feeling. I know it sounds crazy, but I respect it.”
He gathers a question before speaking.
“Did you have a feeling just now or see a picture?”
I’m surprised he takes the news so well. As if it is a given. I learned early on to only share my gift with certain people. It can be misunderstood. God help the man who belittles it. But Nobel has taken it in stride, so I continue.
