Savannah’s response astonished me,
although I didn’t let on. Her brother? What sequence of circumstances caused me
to believe that Melanie, who I had just met, was what? Cheating on me. No, but
when you first meet someone, and then there is a question of trust, how far do
you go with the relationship?
I admit that I overreacted. Savannah suggested I come
by the café near closing—Melanie would be locking up.
Would Melanie know?
So, I asked, “If I do, will Melanie be expecting me?”
“Depends on if you say that you will. Melanie likes a man
that keeps his word.” Savannah flashed a smile.
Oh, so the twist was on me—could she trust me?
So, I met Melanie at closing.
She slowly approached me and slid her arms around me for a
gentle hug. I responded in kind, and she nestled her head in the crook of my
neck.
No love lost here.
“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” she breathed into my
ear, then looked to the floor.
“You looked beautiful in the sun dress, and your home—so
inviting to—”
I turned Melanie to face me and planted a kiss to the moon
and back that made us both shudder.
“I think I’m—”
“Don’t say it. Too early to tell. I have the same vibes, but
to begin exploring these feelings is a destiny for disaster.”
I walked Melanie, hand in hand, out of the café into the full moonlight of a July night. The night light lit the old town street like a stage for a movie set, and I took advantage of it and held her close as we strolled.
“The street dead ends at the cemetery and the trailhead. Unless
you’re wanting to—”
“Kiss you amongst the dead? I’ve never experienced that.
Let’s do it.”
“You serious?”
“As serious as this.”
I kissed her passionately in front of the cemetery. I swear
the tombstones lit up, and dry bones sang. I’d met a mountain woman in God’s
country, and for the first time in a decade, I felt alive.
