Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Gimme it tomorrow,” he mumbled.
“No.”
Simon wiggled out of bed and rummaged around in the closet. He slid back into bed and turned on the bedside lamp.
“Wake up,” he said and kissed Jack’s cheek, then pressed an envelope the size of a notebook into his hand.
Simon bit his lip and Jack turned his attention to the gift. It wasn’t wrapped, just sealed with the envelope’s clasp at the top. When he reached in, he found the edge of a piece of thick paper and slid it out.
The drawing was in pen and, even before he registered the familiarity of the animals, Jack recognized the style. Fluid lines that started and stopped in unpredictable places, the sense that everything was resisting gravity just the tiniest bit, light falling almost magically on the forms.
“Is this...?”
Simon was nearly vibrating with excitement on the bed.
“Corbin Wale drew it. For you.”
Reverently, Jack flipped the drawing over, looking for a signature. In crabbed writing it said, I got your email. More soon. Your animals are very truthful. So are your animals. Here they are. Simon said you’re the best thing to happen to him. Corbin.
Simon leaned in to read it too and made an embarrassed sound when he got to the end.
“I can’t believe you did this,” Jack said, fingers hovering over the words.
“I sent him scans of your books so he’d know what an amazing artist you are. And pictures of the pack.”
Jack imagined the email Simon might have sent, what he would have asked for, what he said to get it done.
He flipped the drawing back over and examined it more closely. The animals all looked amazingly like themselves though the style wasn’t realistic exactly. That is, he could tell Bernard was Bernard because Corbin Wale had captured an essential Bernardishness in the drawing, even though a stranger might not have been able to match them. It was extraordinary. He’d even conveyed the fierce love Louis had for Puddles with one line of his paw, though he doubted Simon would have been quite that thorough in his description.
“I can’t believe it,” Jack said again. He slid out of bed and put the drawing on top of the tall dresser where none of the animals could possibly get to it.
For a moment, he stood and took in the scene before him. Simon, the love of his life, naked in his bed, hair tousled and cheeks flushed, smiling at him softly. Their bed. Naked in their bed.
A year ago, Jack had stood on the precipice of having his trust crushed to smithereens. Now he felt so full up with love and trust that the whole cabin seemed to pulse with it. He had ideas. Convictions. The pack. A future and someone to share it with. He had everything.
As if he could read his thoughts on his face, Simon reached out a hand to him.
Jack got back under the covers and switched off the light. Simon came back into his arms like they were magnetized at the heart.
“Our bed,” Jack said, kissing him.
“Ours,” Simon echoed. Then, “I live here now.”
“We live here now.”
They murmured to each other in the dark, pressed together tightly. In a few hours, Jack would get up and check on Box, make sure she was settling in all right. But for now, they just held each other in their bed, in their cabin, with their pack, as the snow fell on the roof and the trees and on all of Garnet Run, Wyoming.
* * *