Page 52 of Grown-Up Second Chance

I sighed and sipped my wine.

“Part of it was the times we grew up in,” I said. “And my dad was a practical man. Kathleen’s a lot like him. A camera was fine. If I’d wanted to open a studio for family portraits, graduation photos, and weddings, he might have gotten behind that.”

“You would have hated it.”

“Yep.”

“And your husband?” Joe sat down and turned his total focus toward me.

How could I explain the power Larry had had over me, a situation I hadn’t even realized I was in. I’d considered myself a strong woman. Independent. Yet he’d kept me in a cage of invisible walls. I hadn’t realized it was there until I opened the door and walked out.

“Let’s just say he wasn’t supportive of anything that didn’t contribute to our welfare.”

“Meaning his welfare.”

Surprisingly, tears formed in my eyes, as an echo of the constant ache I used to feel in my chest returned. I couldn’t speak, so I nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” Joe said. He put his hand on mine, but didn’t say anything more.

We sat there quietly for a while, as I let the warm comfort he offered seep in through my bones. When the time was right, he took his hand away, and we settled into dinner and a non-consequential discussion.

We had just finished when people began to stir, moving toward their scopes as if someone had sent an urgent memo. Fingers pointed toward the edge of the trees in the distance.

Abandoning dinner, we joined them. Joe chatted with the nearest person, and the pointing resumed. He moved the scope ever so slightly a few times, then stopped. With a smile, he gestured for me to come over and showed me where to look.

It took a bit for my eye to adjust to the optics, but then I saw him, a magnificent canine who could only have been the leader of the pack. His fur was dark black, contrasted with the golden eyes that seemed to peer back at me through the lens. No wonder wolves were feared. They could see into one’s very soul.

Joe and I traded places back and forth for a while as other members of the pack emerged.

“Shall we finish our dinner?” he asked after some time had passed.

I nodded.

We ate silently, trading looks and short sentences as we absorbed the miracle we had seen together. Wolves in Yellowstone. An ecological balance created.

After we cleaned up, we returned to the scope and watched until we could see no longer. People around us packed up and left until we were almost alone.

“That was amazing,” I told him. “Thank you.”

“It was.” He turned to me and brushed my hair from my face. “And so are you. Don’t forget it.” He smiled. “I screwed this up the last time. If you don’t mind, I’d like to try again.”

He searched my eyes, asking for permission.

I forced myself not to stiffen and let my lips relax as I tilted my face toward him.

Was I doing this right? How did one kiss in their sixties? Tongue or no tongue?

Were my lips too dry? Should I moisturize them? I hadn’t planned on being kissed.

But as soon as Joe’s mouth connected with mine, the voices stopped. He knew the answers to all the questions.

It was the best kiss of my life.

Chapter Sixteen

The Fourth of July rolled up on us before it seemed possible. Soon we’d be departing, going our separate way from Joe.

The three of us had settled into a routine of sorts. Periodically Kathleen would call a work day, and we’d clean and scour the RV, do the laundry, and make sure we had the right amount of everything we used consistently, like dish soap and toilet paper. Two or three times a week we’d pick a place in the park, drive to it, and spend time exploring. Other days we did what we felt like doing.

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