Saving Rain(53)

I wasn’t sure Noah had caught on yet or if he thought his mom and I had started to just spend a little more time together. But whichever it was, he seemed content, too, and for that, I was even happier.

“What’s the kid doing today?” I asked, turning my eyes back on the land to assess what I’d already accomplished.

Half of the yard had been tilled. Not bad for a little over an hour of work.

“Right now, checking out the new game my mom bought him.” She walked down her steps and came to stand closer to my little yard. “Do you need help? I can send him over.”

“No, I’m good.” I grunted as I jabbed the blades into the next tough spot in the row I was working on. “Just thought he’d like to get his hands dirty if he wasn’t doing anything else.”

“I’ll ask him.”

She watched me through a couple more jabs of the tiller into the ground, sipping her coffee and keeping an arm wrapped tightly around her middle. There was something so normal about it, something that said we could have this all the time—maybe even forever—and I liked it a lot.

It was funny. For years, I’d never thought forever with another person could exist in my world. Yet there I was, envisioning her walking down the aisle in a premature daydream.

“Where did you learn to do this stuff?” she asked after another sip of coffee.

“What, dig in the dirt?”

She laughed. “No, I mean, gardening and … whatever it is you’re doing right now.”

“Well”—another grunt with another jab—“my grandfather had a huge garden that I helped him with. That’s where I learned most of what I know”—jab, push, till—“and that continued while I was at Wayward.”

“You gardened at Wayward?”

I nodded as I gritted my teeth for another stab of the blades through the dirt. “I did a lot of stuff there. Learned a lot. Most productive time of my life, to be honest. I probably wouldn’t know how to survive right now if it wasn’t for that place.”

Ray softly bobbed her head, humming contemplatively. I didn’t need to ask what she was thinking—I already knew.

How could a guy speak so fondly of prison?

How could I stoop so low to make out with him on a nearly nightly basis, knowing he’s an ex-con?

“Anyway”—she cleared her throat—“I have laundry to do, but I’ll let Noah know you asked for him to come outside and play.”

I chuckled heartily, trying not to think too much about her abrupt change in subject. “Let me know if you need help with the laundry. I have a lot of experience with doing that too.”

She smiled, looking up to my eyes fondly before stepping toward me and tipping her head back.

I bent to kiss her softly, barely brushing my lips against hers, as I thought, This is nice. I could get used to it. I just hope I get to keep it for a while.

***

“We should go on a date,” she announced during her weekly shopping trip.

Noah wasn’t with her today. I wondered if he was with her mom and was going to ask when she abruptly made a suggestion I hadn’t expected but probably should’ve. I mean, that was what people who liked each other did, right? They went on dates. They made things official. They had dinner together and watched movies and … other normal coupley things that I had never done before in my life.

“A date?” I asked, looking up from my sweeping and promptly smacking my head on the damn Produce sign.

Howard chuckled beneath his breath before wincing apologetically. “I’ll move it, I promise.”

He walked away, his laughter following him as he went, as I muttered, “He’s full of shit. He’s been saying he’ll move that fuckin’ thing for months.”

“Yeah, a date,” Ray replied while watching me rub my hand against the back of my head.

“Like”—my forehead crumpled with the thought—“what kind of date?”

I wished I didn’t seem so stupid. And I hated that she knew it, too, as she laughed lightly at my expense and playfully rolled her eyes.

“You know, like, a normal date. Dinner, maybe go for a walk or go to the movies or something …” She folded her arms against the handle of her shopping cart and shrugged like it all should’ve been obvious. “A normal date.”

“I’ve never been on a date,” I admitted point-blank, then quickly wondered what she would think of me, now knowing that at thirty-one, I hadn’t done something most people did in their teens.

She cocked her head curiously, but didn’t seem surprised. “Really?”

It was my turn to shrug. “Honestly, I’ve never really even had a girlfriend, so …”

This time, she was surprised. “Wait. That night, um … at The Pit … I saw you with a girl. So, I thought …”

I shook my head, both to respond and to remove the image of Tammi from my mind. “It wasn’t like that. She, um …” I glanced around me, making sure none of the other shoppers were within listening distance. “She wasn’t a real girlfriend. I didn’t like her much, and I’m pretty sure she only liked me for … what I did, and, um …”

Shame coiled up from the collar of my long-sleeved shirt and wrapped tightly around my neck. Thoughts of the things Tammi would do to me while stoned out of her mind off the pills I had given her filled my head. Memories of the things I’d do to her in exchange as thanks. It all felt like so long ago—a lifetime even—but the beads of sweat dotting my forehead made it all seem like yesterday.