Page 42 of It Comes In Waves

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He can see the fact that my brain is in another place. “Don’t worry about it right now. We will figure it all out when we get back home.”

Home. The sound of that simple four-letter word falling out of Judson’s mouth is quite possibly the greatest sound I’ve ever heard. My mother walks back into the room, and if her looks could burn a hole through me, they would. She is just trying to keep me in Tennessee to live the life she missed out on, vicariously through me. What she doesn’t understand is there are no do-overs, which is why I left. I left Dakota because I couldn’t visualize my future with him. I left school because I didn’t want to major in business for a “secure” job. I left home because the more life was pushed on me, the more it forced me away. We only get one shot to be happy, so we may as well make it work.

“Reese, when they get Blakely’s discharge papers worked up, we are going to go home. Hanna has prepared a Turkey, so we will try to get this girl back for Thanksgiving dinner. You are more than welcome to join us.”

Silence fills the air. I see mom glance at Judson and then back to me.

“Okay.” She agrees. I take a breath out, relieved. Why am I always craving her acceptance or approval?

CHAPTER 29

JUDSON

December 11

The morning was slow and subtle, full of kissing, and coffee. I drag my fingers through Blake's long dark hair as she rests her head on my chest. I glance down at her wrist, now perfectly wrapped in a cast, and graze my thumb over the scribbles of black Sharpie. She looks up into my eyes.

"I'm okay, you know. Will you quit looking at me like I'm sick?"

She's right. I can't stop thinking that I almost lost her before we really got to live our lives together. The cast will stay on a few more weeks before we will know about therapy. She still can't move her fingers, and it breaks my heart to think that she may not be the same.

"I know, I just am so sorry about everything."

She jumps up off the couch and twirls around, grabbing my hand.

"Let's go do something fun." Her smile is infectious, and her optimism is inspiring. "You are killing me with this sadness. I'm alive. I didn't die!"

She has a point. Did I mention I don't know how to tell her no?

"What do you want to do?" I ask her with a raised brow.

"Well, I was taking pictures a few days ago and found something, let's go, and I'll show it to you." I can't help but picture her stumbling around with one hand snapping pictures.

"Okay, boss. Tell me where to go." She opens the door to the corvette that she has been driving until we find another car to grab her camera.

Nope, I'm driving." She demands, hopping up into the truck. I can't help but eyeball her in the soft green sundress she is wearing with brown cowboy boots. She is perfect. I slide into the passenger seat, and she backs out of the garage. I swear the drive feels never-ending. I am half convinced she is lost when she pulls over on the side of the road and shuts off the ignition.

"Did you bring me here to kill me?" I joke and wonder to myself why she was even out here alone in the first place. She jumps out of the truck and pulls me by the hand through the thick tree line. After about a hundred yards, the trees open up to a pond. It's small, but the view is incredible. There aren't any houses around, and the area we are in is wooded and very secluded. She takes two steps out onto a wooden dock.

"You better be careful. That thing looks like it could fall in at any minute," I warn.

She rolls her eyes at me and sits down with her feet hanging off the edge.

"It's perfect. The most beautiful place." She takes my hand as I squat down next to her, half afraid my weight will send the wood tumbling into the water.

"Sometimes, I can't stop thinking about my dad." She looks down at her cast then into the water.

"I think about my mom all the time, so that's normal. I would like to tell you it gets better with time, but the hurt will always be there." She looks up at me and gives me a half-smile. Her head falls onto my shoulder.

"When I was about five years old, my dad took me to a fishing tournament. It was a bunch of his work buddies, and most of them were bringing their little boys, but I remember my dad asking me to go with him. I was so proud. I tried not to dress as girly that day and wore my boots. My Mom and Dad had just gotten a divorce, so my dad helped me pull my hair into a ponytail. I can still remember the way he struggled and laughed at himself." She fights her tears back and laughs a little bit. "Anyway, we made our way to the lake and got into the canoe. I was terrified the entire time that we were going to flip it over. He gave me a fishing pole and spent time helping me learn how to fish, although I had more fun playing in the bucket of minnows." She laughs again, and I can tell she hasn't told this story to many people, but it's important to her. "We get back to the dock, and I'm laughing and playing on the dock, and after the whole day of me being scared of flipping the boat, I slipped and fell into the water. His eyes were always on me, so my dad saw and immediately pulled me out." She pauses and starts laughing even harder.

"Then what happened?"

"Well, I was soaked, and had no extra clothes, so we laughed the whole way home about how I smelled like Carp." Her smile spreads across her face, and she squeezes my hand. "This dock reminds me of that, of him.

"That is a great story. I wish I could've met him," I tell her.

"Me too."


Tags: Kirstie Goode Romance