Page 9

I must have checked this bag a thousand times, making sure I had everything I needed for the picnic with Autumn this morning.

I place it in the backseat and head to the park.

I wanted to make arrangements to pick her up, but I wasn’t sure if she’d be comfortable with that.

I haven’t heard from her this morning, so I hope all is well and that she’s ready for me.

It’s ten minutes until ten. I’ll be at the park in five.

I wonder if she’s already there waiting for my arrival, or did she oversleep?

I get my answer when I pull in and see her car. A smile instantly comes to my face.

She’s here.

She’s waiting.

She’s ready to spend the day with me.

I park beside her. She smiles when she looks over and sees me.

I get out, take the bag from the backseat and then close the door.

She’s already gotten out, and I pause my steps toward her and take in her beauty.

She looks like a breath of fresh air if it were something you could see.

She has on a yellow, backless, strapless dress.

My throat nearly tightens when I discover freckles sprinkled over her chest like glitter.

Her hair is gathered in a high ponytail.

She has pink gloss on her lips and no makeup hiding her uniqueness.

Thank God.

I want to bask in her beauty marks all day. My thumbs ache to play connect the dots on her beautiful face.

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

She smiles, her face glowing with happiness beneath a partly cloudy sky. “Good morning, Judah.”

“How are you feeling this morning?” I ask. It’s a question I’ve grown accustomed to people asking me. I want to be the one asking for a change.

“I feel good. It’s a beautiful day. It’s…pleasant.”

“Yeah, that’s why I wanted to get out here early before it got too hot.”

“Good idea. Is it just us?”

“Yes,” I say, walking beside her. “Just us.”

I’m tempted to take her hand into mine, but I fight the urge.

Instead, I pay attention to her aura. Her aroma.

I savor her presence. She smells like cocoa butter and peaches.

She looks relaxed and ready for whatever.

I suppose that’s a good thing. It means she’s comfortable with me. That brings me joy.

Walking over near the paddle boats, I ask, “You’re not afraid of the water, are you?”

“No. What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking we could paddle or drift to the middle of the lake and talk and eat.”

“Cool. I’m down.”

The worker at the dock advises us to grab life vests. I put mine on and assist Autumn with securing hers. Then we get on a boat, sitting in the front, our feet resting on the pedals.

“You’re the man. I’ll let you steer,” she says. “But I will pedal on my side, too.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. I can’t tell you the last time I’ve been in one of these. It’s fascinating to me the things we forget to do as adults that we used to enjoy as children.”

“That’s true. The simple things in life bring the most pleasure.”

Simple things like seeing your face. Basking in your glow.

“I one-hundred percent agree with that.”

We pedal backward, then as we turn, we head forward, going away from land. I want to get as far out as possible – until I feel like I have her all to myself.

“Oh, my,” she says, huffing. “Can you tell I haven’t been to the gym in a while?”

“Why not?”

“Work. I’m usually so exhausted after I get home, I just crash. Sometimes, I don’t even have time to eat dinner.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, but,” she shrugs. “What can you do?”

“Quit.”

She laughs. It’s a sound I enjoy hearing. She has the cutest laugh that makes anyone who hears it smile. That’s how darling she is.

“I can’t quit,” she says. “Besides, I love what I do. It gets on my nerves sometimes, but it’s rewarding.”

“What all do you do there at the rec center?”

“I arrange different activities and classes for people. I work mostly with the older crowd.”

“What kind of activities are they doing?”

“You’d be surprised. They love yoga. I just planned an early morning outdoor yoga class. They line dance, learn different stretches to avoid injury. Oh, and chair aerobics with one-pound weights is all the rage.”

I grin. “One pound…”

“Yep,” she says, tickled. “You can’t tell them nothing when they get them weights. But, hey, I just like that they’re active.”

“That’s nice. You have the kind of personality that’s great for that.”

“How do you know?” she asks, side-eyeing me.

I look over at her and then back straight ahead again. “Because I have a good feeling about these things.”

“You have a good feeling about me?”

“Yes, I do.”

She stops pedaling. The water splashes up against the sides of the boat as we rock. Time slows. The world is quiet. Out here, it’s just me and her. It’s the solitude I need to figure out what’s going on in my mind where she is concerned.

I say, “It looks like we’re out far enough. Is this good?”

She looks around and says, “Yes, this is perfect.”

“Good.”

She pulls in a breath and closes her eyes, tilting her head up to the sky. I was going to unzip the backpack, but I observe her breathing and the way the sun strikes her face the same way it kisses the lake and wakes up the earth.

I’m captivated.

She opens her eyes and looks at me as if she could feel my eyes on her. The smile that comes to her face is one of happiness.

“Yes?” she asks.

“Nothing,” I say, forcing myself to look away from her face, though everything in me wants to hold this vision in my eyes forever.

I unzip the backpack and remove two bottles of lemonade. Handing her one, I say, “I would’ve made some fresh lemonade, but wasn’t quite sure how to bring it out here.”

“This is fine, Judah.”

“Okay. I made these sandwiches. I watched the lady in the deli make them and just basically copied her, so if they’re not good, blame the sandwich lady.”

“Judah?”

I pause removing items from the bag to look up at her. “Yes?”

“Everything is perfect. Just the gesture alone is perfect.”

“Okay. Thanks for saying that,” I say. She sensed my nervousness. I’m usually never like this, but I want her to enjoy herself so much that it’s making me tense. I take a beat, regather my intentions, and force myself to relax.

I hand her a sandwich and leave everything else in the bag for now. She unwraps it and says, “Roast beef. I love roast beef.”

“Good.”

We indulge for a while as the boat moves and drifts with the gentle ripples of the lake.

The wind slides across our faces like the gentle stroke of a finger.

The sun pronounces a shimmer on Autumn’s cheeks – her freckles coming alive and standing out more dominantly.

If I must die, this is the vision of her I want plastered in my final breaths.

I ask, “Did you grow up in Arden?”

“No. I grew up in Asheville.”

“Right up the street.”

“Exactly. My parents still live there. I moved to Arden six years ago when I took the job at the rec center.”

“I know I’m not supposed to ask this, but how old are you?”

“Guess.”

A smile grows on my face. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. If I guess too high, you’ll be offended.”

“I won’t. It’s just a guess.”

“Okay. Um…I’d say you were twenty-six.”

She smiles. “Close. I’m twenty-eight. How old are you?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No. I’m an only child.”

“Me, too.”

“Ah—something else we have in common,” he says.

“What’s the other thing?” she asks, peering over at me, glancing at my lips.

“Our love of nature.”

“Oh. Right.” She takes another bite of the sandwich and says, “I don’t mean to come across as intrusive, and if I am, just tell me and I’ll back off, but how did you find out—you know—that you had brain cancer?”

“It started with these bad headaches. When they first started, I would pop a couple of Tylenol and keep it pushing. The problem was, they were getting to be more frequent. More intense. My mother urged me to go get checked just to make sure nothing was wrong, but I soon discovered that something was wrong. Very wrong.”

“How do you feel now?”

“I feel fine other than the fact that I know I have it. The cancer has been in remission for years. The headaches have stopped. I don’t get dizzy—I feel like I’m living a normal, yet temporary life.”

“Temporary?”

“Yes. My doctor already forewarned me that with the type of cancer I have, I’ll have a slim chance of surviving remission.”

“But you don’t know how long you’ll be in remission?”

“No, I do not.”

She sighs heavily.

I say, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m the one who brought it up.”

“I know, but we don’t have to talk about it. It’s supposed to be a relaxing day. Besides, I hadn’t intended to tell you about my diagnosis.”

“Why did you?”

“I told you why—I trust you—and honestly, I hadn’t meant to do other things with you that I willingly did.”

“Like what?” she asks, turning to me, curiosity piqued.

“Like when we met, I hadn’t intended to see you again.”

“Oh, wow. Talk about a punch to the gut…”

“No, I don’t mean it like that, Autumn. I—”

“So, the only reason you agreed to see me again is because I initiated it.”

“Technically, you didn’t initiate it. I invited you to the campground with my friends.”

“Yes, but only after I walked over to your car and introduced myself before you were apparently about to drive away only to never lay eyes on me again. You know that sucks, right?”

“My apologies, but like I said, it had nothing to do with you, Autumn. It was just me.”

“Then, why didn’t you stick to your guns and drive away when you saw me approaching?”

“That would be rude. Besides, there’s no way I could drive away from that pretty face of yours.”

She smiles hard, clearly flustered by my compliment.

“Stop,” she says. “All of your female friends are pretty. Do you make it a habit of gathering beautiful women by your side?”

“No.”

“So, you want me to believe you never asked Luna to come on a paddle boat ride with you?”