Dweller - Jeff Strand [73]
She told him that she wasn’t crying over Tom as much these days, but didn’t directly relate it to what may or may not have been a blossoming romance.
She asked him what he did in the woods, and he lied. He just walked through the trees, enjoying the fresh air and solitude, getting exercise, being one with nature.
He took her with him, several times. It was a big forest. Plenty of places to go. She pretended to have a good time, but he called her out on it, and she admitted that she was much more of an indoor person, or at least preferred the outdoors without so many bugs. They laughed and happily found other things to do besides hiking in the forest.
She comforted him every time he got a rejection, which meant that she did a lot of comforting. They joked about killing comic strip editors.
When she wanted to go to an all-weekend bluegrass music festival, they went together. They sang during the drive, as loudly as they could—they loved enduring each other’s vocals, as long as they didn’t torment innocent bystanders.
Neither of them said anything, but it was understood that they would share a hotel room, and a bed.
They lay together, kissing gently, Sarah down to her bra and panties. Then the look of sadness from the support group appeared, and she pulled away from him.
“I’m sorry, I…you understand, right?”
“Of course I do.”
They held each other all night.
The music festival got rained out, so they spent the day singing in the hotel room. They kissed some more after darkness fell, and she said that she was ready.
Then she warned him that she was ending a dry spell of several years and that he might be in very serious danger.
Somehow, he survived.
1986
“What if we got married?” Sarah asked.
“Um, are you proposing to me?”
“No, I’m not trying to steal your thunder. I’m just throwing the idea out there. I love you, you love me, we want babies someday, so let’s make them legitimate before they’re accidentally conceived.”
“Wow.” Toby kissed her. “That’s the most flowery, poetic—”
“I know, I know. But I’m serious.”
“—heartfelt, romantic—”
She punched him playfully on the arm. “Enough! You know what I mean. Let’s do it. We’re not getting any younger.”
“So, what, do I just drop to one knee?”
“No. You should get a ring first.”
“How do you know I don’t already have it?”
“Do you?”
“Yes. It’s back at my place. If you’d been considerate enough to start this conversation there, I could’ve run into my bedroom, brought it out, and it would’ve been this great big romantic deal. But instead, we have to drive eight miles.”
“You’re joking, right? Do you really have a ring?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously, Toby, don’t kid around. You really truly bought an engagement ring?”
“Let’s go get it.”
He’d decided to buy a ring the weekend after they made love for the first time. He knew it was too soon, way too soon, and that he might never get to give it to her, but he wanted to have the ring.
Owen had helped him pick it out. Toby had brought pictures of the top three possibilities, and Owen had tapped his talon against the princess-cut diamond, which was Toby’s first choice, too. If he asked again with the same three pictures, Owen would probably point to something different, but that was okay.
He also had his mother’s engagement ring in his top drawer. It was a beautiful ring—much more expensive than the one he bought for Sarah. But he couldn’t give his future wife a ring that came from the finger of a woman who slit her wrists. He just couldn’t.
As they drove toward his home, Toby wondered about the impact of his marriage on Owen. They’d have to move into a new home—his house was okay for himself, maybe for the two of them, but definitely too small for an expanding family.
She knew he loved the forest. He’d just have to insist that they get a home in the same general area. He’d start researching possibilities.
He made Sarah wait in the living room, then went into his bedroom and got the ring box. He walked back to her, got down on one knee, and took her hand.
“Sarah Habley, will you marry me?”
“Oh my