Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Once again, my insides flip, and it reminds me of the excitement I felt the first time I had ice cream again. I wanted to gobble it all at once but forced myself to eat it slowly, savoring its deliciousness.
That’s how Tyler makes me feel.
“I better go,” I say, wrenching my eyes from his. “My friend is waiting at the road, and it’s getting dark. She has a date to get to…”
He looks off behind me and up at the darkening sky, then he hands Poppy’s leash back to me as he steps outside, closing his front door behind him. I look at him questioningly, and he points to the trail leading back to the road and nods his head.
Wordlessly, he walks me back to the end of the dirt road as the sun begins to set, the sky turning a dazzling reddish orange behind us. I turn several times to see the sky change color, and he watches me with amused interest.
He’s not rude, I decide. Plagued with a bad attitude? Yes. Guarded? Definitely. But enough of a gentleman to walk me back to the car so I don’t have to walk alone. On television, that’s what the nice guys do when they like a girl.
“Thank you, Tyler,” I say, handing the leash back to him after kneeling down to give Poppy a kiss and a pet goodbye. I hope Tyler doesn’t notice my hand shaking. “For saving me, and for taking care of Poppy for me. I know ‘thank you’ isn’t enough…”
He stares down at his feet for a few seconds, and it almost seems like he’s struggling, maybe wanting to say something, but when he raises his head, he just nods and then heads back up the trail. I remain rooted where I’m standing and watch them walk away. Right before they disappear from view, Poppy turns to see if I’m still there and, of course, I am.
For reasons I can’t understand, I long to go with them, back to the little house in the woods.
“It’s about time,” Feather says when I get into her car, pulling me back into reality. “I was starting to get really worried.”
“I’m sorry, I went as fast as I could.”
“So, what did he say?”
“Nothing. He doesn’t talk.”
“Still? Is that like a permanent problem? Did you see his face? What the hell happened to him?” She puts the car in drive and burns rubber back onto the road.
I don’t answer her because all I see when I look at him are eyes the color of a sky I ached to see but was kept hidden from me for ten years.
10
Tyler
If not for her misty blue-gray eyes, I never would have recognized the beautiful woman in front of me as the same girl I pulled out of a dirt hole. It seems like a lifetime ago.
Back then, I thought she was much younger. I guess not being able to eat or get outside in the sun and air robs a person of being able to grow properly. She’s still thin and pale, but her genes obviously refused to be denied, and now her natural beauty has surpassed dirt and malnourishment. Unfortunately for her, not much can erase tragedy and heartache from forever lingering in her eyes.
I’m reminded of that little fact myself every morning when I look in the mirror.
She’s still holding the note I gave her when I leave her standing by the side of the road. As I walk away, I want to turn back to see if she’s still there watching me, but I don’t let myself. Her dog looks back though, and I can tell she’s still there just by the amount of time it takes him to face forward again. The endless, unconditional love and loyalty of a dog are serious goals.
Call me a bastard, but I’m glad she brought him back because I would’ve missed this little white fucker. Sure, I still have the fuzzy red lunatic to keep me company, but the dog on the end of this new blue leash weaseled his way into my heart a year ago. We’re kindred spirits, me and him.
Both debarked.
Both scarred.
Both lost.
Both worried about her.
Both still thinking about her.
I climb up into the loft, to lie down, as soon as I get back home, but I don’t fall asleep as fast as I normally do. It’s been an unusual couple of days, and they keep playing over in my head. I never get visitors or people traipsing into my yard unless it’s a lost hiker.
If I had known it was her, I wouldn’t have tried to scare her with the mask. The thing is, though, she didn’t run back toward the road screaming her head off like most people do when I play let’s-scare-people-out-of-my-domain. She took control of the situation and calmly got herself away from me. She handled it like she was well trained in dealing with someone unhinged.