Wild Flower by Abbie Williams Page B

snuggled me at once. Tucked to him, I thought of what my life would be like had I moved home to Chicago at the end of that first summer, of where I would be now. And my soul seemed to shrivel, just imagining that.
    We would have found each other, even still . Somehow, I reassured myself.
    After supper Bull brought out the cards and the menfolk gathered around the dining room table, retreating inside now. Diana was laughing about something with her oldest granddaughter, running water into the sink, while Mathias helped us cart dirty dishes into the kitchen.
    â€œShow off,” Tina said to him. She told me, “Don’t expect this sort of thing all the time, hon. He’s normally as lazy as those guys,” and she indicated her dad and the other husbands, lounging around the table with fresh bottles of beer, fanning and reshuffling their cards in preparation to play some poker.
    â€œHey, I resent that,” Mathias said, kicking at Tina’s ankle. “I help out at home. Don’t I, honey?”
    â€œHe does,” I agreed, smiling as I thought of the many times and ways we had made love in our own little kitchen, during and after he had helped clean up from dinner. The counter was a perfect height for certain specific things.
    â€œSee?” he said smugly to Tina.
    â€œBoy, we’re holding up the game for you!” Bull announced in his roaring voice.
    â€œPlay through once without me,” Mathias told his dad. “I’ll be there in a few.”
    My phone, abandoned on my chair, chirped then, and I saw that Noah’s mother Marie Utley was calling.
    Shit , I thought. That meant something was up with Millie, and I tried not to let the sudden burst of apprehension overwhelm me as I caught it up and answered by asking, “Is everything all right?”
    â€œYes, yes, don’t worry,” Marie said instantly. She knew I was thinking of the night last winter when Millie Jo had required emergency surgery for her appendix; Marie had been watching her that evening, and had been the one to bring Millie to the hospital. My shoulders drooped with relief, but then Marie went on, “I hate to ask, but could you swing out to pick up Millie? Noah has…well, he must have been sneaking drinks. He’s too –”
    I interrupted, not wanting to hear anymore of this pitiful explanation, “It’s no problem. I’ll be there soon. Thanks for calling me.”
    Mathias noticed my agitation, however subtle, and came right to my side.
    â€œThat was Marie,” I told him softly. “I have to go get Millie. You stay here and hang out.”
    â€œWhat’s going on?”
    â€œI guess Noah is –” I stuttered a little, anger and irritation blocking my throat so that I had to clear it before finishing, “I guess he’s drunk and can’t bring her home.”
    â€œOh,” Mathias said, his voice carefully harboring no judgment. “We better go then.”
    I turned and studied the lake, curling my hands over the porch rail. I told him, “I can go, sweetheart. You stay and play some cards.”
    â€œI’m not going to stay and have fun without you,” he disagreed, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
    â€œI know, but I feel guilty,” I told him.
    â€œDon’t,” he said gently. “Don’t ever, please, honey.”
    â€œYou’re so warm,” I murmured then, clutching his forearms and hugging them even more securely against me. He was always so quick to understand things, to do what he felt was right.
    â€œI’ll warm you,” he murmured back, kissing the side of my forehead. “Always. I want that in our wedding vows. ‘I promise to warm you through all the days of our life,’ sounds about right.”
    â€œAnd nights,” I whispered, teasing him. “Don’t forget about nights.”
    In response, he tightened his arms around me and nipped my earlobe.
    We left a few