Page 7 of The River in Spring
My fingers wrap around his foot and the sock gets removed.
“I probably know more than you do. My grandparents were big believers in self-reliance. I can’t count the times we handled scrapes and cuts and minor mishaps ourselves.”
“Is that who raised you?”
“Yes.”
I examine the foot and its ability to rotate. Only his clenched teeth give him away.
“That hurt? Right?”
“Just a little. Think I just need to rest it tonight. It’ll be fine tomorrow. Thank you, Dove.”
“Yeah. I don’t think you’re completely out of commission. Just temporarily hobbled. Nice feet, by the way.”
The surprised expression on his face turns to embarrassment. But it doesn’t stop the man from getting sassy.
“Well thank you. I hadn’t planned on showing you my naked foot for at least another month.”
I rarely feel shy. But this is how it feels. Shy and happy at the same time.
“Listen,” he says, sitting up straighter. “It would be great if you would join me for lunch, out on the patio. I’d like to at least thank you with a meal before you get back to wrestling a bear or whatever you have planned for the rest of the day.”
It takes one point two seconds to consider the offer. My wide smile answers.
“I’d enjoy that. But let me help you up.”
“Hand me that walking stick by the fireplace. The parents brought it back for me from one of their trips.”
I retrieve the tall carved stick and help him upright.
“Do you like lasagna? I made some last night.”
This guy is a constant surprise. What else is he good at?
A half hour later, we are under the Montana sky, enjoying a feast. A big romaine salad made with tomatoes from his garden pairs perfectly with the pasta. He added avocado, dried cranberries, and candied walnuts to top it off. Who is this guy that uses candied walnuts? The men I’m used to have been more the order out types. Musicians have their art on the mind almost all the time. You’re lucky to get a plate and a paper towel napkin.
Leaning back in his chair he looks at me and smiles. “I bet you’re the kind of girl who sees dragons in the clouds.”
“I am that girl.”
“Tell me Dove, what are some of the things you like?”
I could think of a hundred right off the top of my head. But let’s make this interesting.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
“Done.”
“Old books.”
“New books.” He smiles.
“Breakfast for dinner.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Sunrise.”
